Sinning in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 2)

I perk up. “I’m allowed to tag along?”

Rafe nods. “For some of it. I have a couple errands to run first, so I’ll have to go out without you this afternoon, but this evening when I have to go to the casino you can come if you want to. Afterward, we’ll grab dinner and finish off the night at one of my favorite clubs.”

“All right, I’ll tag along.”

“Great. You can go shopping this afternoon then, pick out a dress. Unfortunately, I don’t have a closet full of women’s clothing for you to raid.”

He had to go and bring up Sin, didn’t he? I’ve been stressing enough all morning about the possibility of seeing him today. I hoped Rafe would warn me one way or another, but he hasn’t mentioned Sin even indirectly before now. Initially, I was afraid it would be Sin who picked us up at the airport, but it turned out Rafe’s car was there, so we didn’t need anyone to drive us. Now I’m wondering if Sin will be at the club later.

I just need to get the first sighting over with, that’s all. I barely slept all night, despite the warm body curled up with me or the soft, comfortable mattress we were sleeping on. Instead, I wallowed in Sin some more, then around the time the sun came up, concluded that this craving is all in my head. I’m making more of it than I need to because I am less experienced with this sort of thing. Look at Rafe—after I had sex with him, I let myself believe I needed to come to Las Vegas to tell him I was pregnant, just on the off chance he’d be romantic instead of practical and tell me to keep it. Even if those feelings weren’t like these, even though I never felt heartache with Rafe, I felt enough fondness to want to see him again.

For whatever reason, it’s just more intense this time. I don’t know why. Maybe because of raging pregnancy hormones?

I should probably stop blaming the baby for everything and take some responsibility. I have made a mess of my life, and I have no idea if I’m on track to cleaning it up or making it worse. Logic tells me I should have broken free of this twisted web and hauled ass back to Connecticut. Some other demented part of me said, “Eh, let’s see where this goes” and apparently I listened to that crazy bitch instead.

As much as I’m dreading it, I want to see Sin again. I’m hoping against hope that when he appears, I will be fine. Whatever spell I was under will be broken, and relief will pour through me. No longer his captive, I will be free to move on with my life—whether that means giving Rafe a fair shot, heading back to Chicago to let Mia help me out with single parenting, or going home to Carly in Connecticut. Wherever I go from here, I will be able to go without this albatross around my neck. Without the feeling that I’m missing a part of myself, that I left it chained to Sin’s bed and I need to go back for it.

The desire to sink to my knees will dissipate, and whatever fever has struck me will suddenly be cured.

I crave wellness, and I don’t think I can have it again until I face my demon. Rafe is not my demon; Sin is.

Rafe parks the car in his driveway. This place shouldn’t even feel vaguely comfortable to me, but I’ve been without a home of my own for so long at this point, bounced around from place to place, I’m pretty much open to whatever. Rafe’s house is big and gorgeous—though, not as big as the one back in Chicago. Rafe doesn’t have a bunch of people living under this roof, though. It’s just him, and now I guess me.

He unlocks the

front door and thrusts it open, gesturing for me to go inside first. He trails behind with a suitcase. I didn’t have a suitcase with me, but before Mia would let us leave, she gave me one of hers, filled with clothing. Some gender-neutral baby clothing none of hers got a chance to wear with tags still on, the maternity stuff she bought for me, prenatal vitamins when she found out I wasn’t taking any, and various other things she told me I needed.

This kid needs a closet already, and it has barely made the transition from embryo to fetus.

We head left into his living room, and I halt, gasping, as I see my surprise.

The whole set of blue, leather-bound Brontë books I yearned for at the rare bookstore are lined up on Rafe’s coffee table. I turn around, eyes wide. “The Brontë books?”

“Surprise,” he says, smiling warmly.

I throw my arms around his neck and give him a big hug for that one. “Holy hell, Rafe. Thirteen thousand dollars worth of books isn’t a surprise, it’s… I don’t know what, but it’s a step beyond a surprise.”

His arms encircle my body and he gives me a firm hug back, but now all I want to do is look at my presents. Breaking away, I rush over to the coffee table and drop to my knees, this time for something unquestionably worthy—books.

I grab The Professor first and flip it open, running reverent fingers over the title page. If he notices, Rafe will probably think I’m a freak, but I don’t even care; I lean in and smell the pages, closing my eyes as I breathe in their aroma.

Of course, he notices.

“My God, you are a nerd,” Rafe states, clearly amused, as he drops onto the couch and leans back to watch me.

“It’s a great smell.” I hold open the book like an offering. “Take a whiff, you’ll see.”

Folding his arms over his broad chest, he shakes his head. “I’m all right.”

I explore the books for a few more minutes, wondering that I actually own them. Actually, I’m not sure I do own them. More likely, as long as things work out with Rafe, I own them. I’m sure if I leave, the books don’t leave with me.

Still, I never dreamed I would own these under any circumstances when we looked at them that day, and I’m feeling grateful. So I crawl around the coffee table, noting the way Rafe’s amber eyes warm, and I climb up on his lap. I straddle him like I did many moons ago, bracing my hands on his shoulders. Then I lean in and brush my lips against his. One of his hands moves around to the small of my back, the other settling on my hip and he pulls me closer. I go easily, closing my eyes and letting myself enjoy the moment of tenderness.

As many doubts as I still have, I really don’t want to sabotage this before we even have a chance to take off. Rafe and I have never been a couple before; we’ve never invested in one another. As recently as a week ago, I didn’t even know who Sin was, and look how I felt for him by the end of it all.

I’m sure I can do that with Rafe too, but only if I let it happen. Seeing as I’m pregnant with his baby, I might as well give it a shot.

“Thank you,” I say again, when I pull back.