Claim My Baby (Crescent Cove 2)

“Aquarius, really?” Oliver shook his head. “Why don’t you tell him your favorite color and preferred meal while you’re at it?”

“Hot pink and a nice steak sub with extra peppers and onions.” I smiled, though inwardly I was cringing at being quite so honest. There was nothing sexy about admitting you liked to load up on onions, but then again, I wasn’t trying to make a date. Just a friend.

And yes, I also wanted to rile Oliver. Since he was doing a bang-up job at trying to look as if he couldn’t care less about the conversation—not—obviously, I was successful.

“Pink is a nice color on you,” Lumberjack said, shifting in his seat and inclining his chin at my thin cardigan. “I like steak sandwiches too.”

Except he pronounced it sammiches, which was pretty cute.

“Would you please, sit down,” he added after a moment. “Your feet must be getting tired.”

“Okay. But I’d like to sit next to you, not by the window.” I gave Oliver a hard stare.

“You’re still sitting next to me even if I move into the window seat,” Oliver said, as if I wasn’t smart enough to figure that out on my own. But he moved next to the window just the same.

I shrugged. “At least one of my seatmates will be pleasant.”

Lumberjack rose so I could enter the row and I sat down, careful not to touch Oliver in any way. It wasn’t easy. He was a big man himself, though much more densely packed. There was no chance he’d invade my personal space. I imagined that was probably one of Oliver Hamilton’s life credos.

Stick to your own lane.

But I tended to sprawl. These seats were tiny for a full-figured woman like myself. I’d just have to be careful to not edge onto Oliver’s side, no matter how much I might be tempted to.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed to Oliver the second the lumberjack asked the flight attendant for coffee.

He smoothed his spring-green tie as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “As I stated before, this is a commercial flight. I don’t have to explain my presence here to you or anyone.”

“Uh-huh. You’re here because you think I need a chaperone.” Even as I said it, I argued with myself.

Oliver didn’t like me. Why would he give a whit if I traveled to Vegas to get my freak on?

Which wasn’t seeming likely any longer anyway. I’d be happy to gamble a little, maybe shop, enjoy the warm weather, and sleep in a different bed for a couple of nights. If I met a nice guy to have dinner with, that would be a plus. But I sincerely doubted I’d be able to spread my legs with a stranger, no matter how much I longed to be wild.

I simply wasn’t. That didn’t mean I couldn’t move past my comfort zone.

“You’re a grown woman. You don’t need anyone watching over you.”

I angled my head. “Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?”

“This trip will allow me to pursue some business interests, so it’s a twofer, you could say.”

“You have no business dealings in Vegas.”

“Actually, that’s incorrect. I always cram as much into trips as I can, and this presented an opportunity for both business and pleasure.”

“Oh, really? What pleasure, exactly, do you think you’ll find?”

I didn’t care. Truly. But he was Ally’s brother-in-law, and we were in for a long flight. Might as well make conversation.

It wasn’t as if I could get him tossed off the plane. As he’d said, he had the same right to be here as anyone else.

And if there was a small—very small—part of me that was happy he was here, well, then I’d squash the heck out of that shit.

Uh, crap.

“Why, the pleasure of time spent with a friend.” His smile was about as trustworthy as a bank robber’s. “I’ve traveled alone often, and it’s a bore. I thought you might enjoy having someone with you to play travel guide and offer some insight.”

“Ah-ha! I knew you were here to spy.”