The Heir Affair (Las Vegas Nights 5)

He shouted her name, a declaration to the universe that this woman belonged to him. And he to her. His chest heaved. Something hot burned in his eyes. He collapsed onto her and buried his face in her neck. Minutes ticked by as they panted in ragged, sated bliss. It was always more than just sex with Melody. It was a mind-blowing connection that couldn’t be denied. Her fingers relaxed their grip on him and he shifted onto his side, drawing her with him. With their legs tangled, his fingertips stroked damp strands of hair away from her face. He dropped a kiss on her temple.

Mine.

And no one was going to take her away from him. Not ever.

* * *

Kyle was whistling as he stopped his car in Trent’s driveway and slid from behind the wheel. It was six in the evening and Melody had invited him for dinner. For the first time since the day they’d attended her ultrasound appointment, they were spending time together with no purpose other than to enjoy each other’s company. As much as Kyle had appreciated the exercises that had helped them reconnect and learn more about each other, he was happy to have no agenda.

After reading the note on Melody’s front door, he turned in the direction of her brother’s house. As much as he was looking forward to the intimate setting of the guest cottage, he understood why she was using the main house to host dinner. Trent’s kitchen was three times the size of hers.

He followed the path through Trent’s carefully landscaped backyard and arrived at the terrace that overlooked the swimming pool. It glowed a soft turquoise amid the cleverly lit trees and bushes that created a tropical paradise. The previous week’s temperatures had hovered in the midseventies during the day, but now as December progressed, Las Vegas was seeing a nearly fifteen-degree drop. And with sunset an hour earlier than in the summer, it was downright chilly.

The scent of cooking beef lured him past the narrow opening in the sliding glass wall and into Trent’s two-story great room. His friend had bought the enormous property in a gated Las Vegas community and turned it into a bachelor’s playground. Before he and Melody got together, Kyle used to love to come to Vegas and hang out here. There had always been a party going on with girls and booze and plenty of distractions.

These days, although Savannah had only been back in Trent’s life for a few months, the changes were evident. A playpen sat beside the large sectional. The dining room boasted a highchair. On either side of the fireplace, toys lined the bookcases’ lower shelves. And below the coffee table was a basket of board books, perfect for little hands.

He imagined his own house in LA looking much the same in six months. After how things had gone between them the other night, he was pretty sure Melody was ready to move back in with him.

She stood in the kitchen, her dark brown hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She wore snug black jeans, torn at the knees, and a dark gray T-shirt that hid her baby bump. Her only jewelry, a silver guitar pick engraved with Melody + Kyle, dangled from a long chain. He’d given it to her the day she left on the tour.

Looking back, he probably should’ve put a large diamond on her left hand, but they’d only been living together for three months and he’d been too arrogant. He’d never imagined she’d stray during their long months apart. If anyone was prone to cheat, it probably would have been him. But being with her had changed him. Before she came along, he’d been accustomed to being alone. The minute she walked out the door, loneliness barged in and sat on his chest like an adult bull elephant.

“Something smells amazing,” Kyle said, holding an enormous bouquet of pink roses and white lilies out to her. “These are for you.”

Predictably, her eyes widened at the sight of so many flowers. He scanned her expression for disappointment. She probably would’ve preferred to receive red roses from him. But someone had already beaten him to the punch and he didn’t want to remind either of them of that fact.

“These are gorgeous,” she exclaimed with such delight that Kyle winced.

How long had it been since he’d showered her with tokens of his affection? He scanned his memory and realized it was too long. What was wrong with him? Melody was the most important woman in his life. She was generous, thoughtful and loving. When she’d first gone on tour, he’d taken delight in sending her little things that made her happy. But as the weeks went on and he ran out of ideas, he’d fallen back on text messages, and the romantic gifts had become less frequent.

“But you don’t have to bring me flowers.” She so obviously meant it that his heart contracted to the size of a peanut.

“I know you don’t expect it, but that doesn’t mean I should take you for granted. Hunter made that mistake and he lost you.”

“That’s not really why he lost me,” she said qui

etly as she filled a vase with water and unwrapped the flowers. “I fell in love with you.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Probably not.” Her cheeky smile came and went. “I hope you have an appetite. I fixed your favorite.”

His mouth started to water. “Beef bourguignon?”

“The very same.”

It was the dish she’d fixed the night she chose him over Hunter. They’d arranged to have dinner at her apartment, not as part of the ruse, but because they both reached a point where being together—even as friends—had become the best part of their day. She confessed later that she’d created a romantic setting without even thinking about it.

He glanced toward the formal dining room and saw it was decked out with fine china, crystal glasses and flickering candles. “You went all out,” he said softly, hope stirring inside him like the first glimpse of dawn.

“I thought maybe we could both use a reminder of what it was like in the beginning.”

“I like that idea.” His voice was a husky murmur, the best he could do given the lump in his throat. “What can I do to help?”

The fastest way to Melody’s heart was to pitch in and become part of her team. She was everyone’s cheerleader and preferred group sports to solo activities. It was another way they differed. He’d grown up an only child, and although he’d chosen baseball as a career because he excelled at it, pitching had always felt like one of the most isolating of positions. Often the flow of a game hinged on how well he performed. It was one thing to stand in the outfield and wait for a ball to come to you. It was another to place pitch after pitch exactly where you wanted it.

Such drive for perfection was what Kyle and Melody recognized in each other. Their disciplines might be different, but their desires sprang from the same well.