Lady Luck (Colorado Mountain 3)

Rolling off the lounger, she bent low and grabbed some clothes she’d shoved under it. Then she pulled on a tight, tee fabric halter top the color of her swimsuit and then a pair of black short-shorts. Then she sat, bent forward and started strapping on a pair of black sandals with tall, wedged heels.

Something barbed pressed into the skin at the back of his neck and he tore his eyes from his new wife to look three loungers away. There he saw a man who definitely spent a lot of time working on his tan. Oiled up. Tight, black swim trunks. Gold at his neck. His shades aimed at Alexa Walker’s cle**age exposed to his view as she was bent toward the guy.

“Yo!” he barked, felt Lexie’s surprised movement rather than saw it but also saw tight trunk man’s shades jerk up to his face. Walker shook his head slowly. The guy quickly looked away.

The barbed feeling faded.

Lexie stood and came into his line of sight.

“What was that?” she asked quietly.

“I’m standin’ here,” he answered.

Her head cocked to the side. She was confused or maybe she didn’t notice the guy. He was guessing the second as he’d noted she didn’t notice men’s attention, something which she got a lot of.

But he did.

He moved around the lounge, got close to her and tipped his chin down to lock shades.

“He was starin’ at your tits.”

Her head slowly turned to the lounger holding tight trunk man.

Then it turned to him, tipped back and they again locked shades.

Then she muttered, “Euw.”

Total goof. Total cute.

Fuck him.

“Yeah, that for you, for me, my woman is puttin’ on her shoes, I’m standin’ right there, you do not f**kin’ stare at her tits.”

“Oh,” she whispered.

“Right. Oh.” He jerked his head at the lounge. “You gonna get your stuff?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ll leave it to keep my place. I’ll keep an eye on it from our table.”

That was acceptable so he moved.

She moved with him and did what she did the day before, grabbing his hand and lacing her fingers with his. She held on tight. Bag of Bones was watching and she was earning her fifty K.

They were seated at a table where he could keep an eye on her shit; she sat in the seat next to him at the square table instead of opposite. A scan of the pool and restaurant showed that Bag of Bones was gone, probably because the morning Vegas sun was torture on his pasty white skin.

They ordered and he was doing another scan to see if Bones was back when he felt her fingers on his hand and his head tipped down to see her hand was at his which was resting on the table and she was thumbing his wide, white gold wedding band.

“He’s gone,” Walker informed her.

Her hand moved away quickly and her head shot back to look at him, both movements indicating that for some reason he’d startled her.

“What?” she asked quietly.

“Bones. He’s gone.”

Her shades immediately moved to scan the area and she whispered, “He was here?”

Something sharp pierced straight through the left side of his chest.

Then he asked, “You didn’t tag him? He was out here when I got here.”

Her shades came back to him, she shook her head and said, “I thought he was following you. Why’s he following me?”

“You didn’t tag him,” Walker repeated, this time a statement, not a question.

She shook her head again and said, “No. No. I…” She paused. “Oh my God. How creepy. Why’s he following me?”

She didn’t tag him.

She’d smiled bright at him. Called him her goofy name. Kept smiling at him. Tugged him to her lounge. Held hands with him almost the entire time he was with her and thumbed his wedding ring in a way that she’d been absorbed in it and he’d startled her when she saw she had his attention.

What the f**k?

As that question came to his mind, their coffee came, saving him from having to guess at an answer and giving him an opportunity to set aside an explanation as to why Bones was following her. The time would come when the need to know she needed to know was that she’d be looked into. Now was not that time.

“Today, I got shit to do,” he told her as she poured milk into her coffee.

She nodded. “That’s cool. I’m gonna bake.”

“You got shit to do too.”

She went from spooning sugar into her coffee to looking at him. “What?”

“In two days we’re headin’ home. My home. Carnal. You got a job to quit and a life to shut down. You need to start on that.”

Her shades stayed locked with his.

Then she muttered, “Oh God, I didn’t think about that.”

“Tomorrow can be your vacation day. Today, you sort shit out.”

She went back to spooning sugar in but she did it nodding. He counted as her hand moved. She took four sugars. No wonder she had that ass.

“You got people who can help you or do we need to carve out time, drive down and sort that?” he asked.

She stopped stirring, put her spoon aside, took a sip then put her cup down while looking at him.

“Ronnie’s Mom and sisters will kick in for me. I tell them I’m moving out from under Shift’s thumb, they’ll rent Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader outfits and do cartwheels around Cowboy Stadium.”

“They probably should save that energy and use it to pack your shit and send it to Carnal.”

She laughed softly then muttered, “Yeah, Ty, you’re probably right.”

“You need movers, they get quotes, you tell me, I’ll get them the money. I’ll also give you the address.”

Her head tipped to the side. “The address?”

“To my house.”

“Your house?”

“My house.”

“What house?”

“My house in Carnal.”

“You have a house in Carnal?”

“I went to prison but doin’ it don’t mean I was stripped of all my possessions. I went, Maggie saw to my shit.”

He watched with interest as her shoulders went straight and then she asked, “Maggie?”

“Maggie,” he confirmed.

“Who’s Maggie?” she asked and her tone was one he hadn’t heard from her yet. Not sass. Not attitude. Not annoyed. But the edge was sharp. Leaning toward pissed not in the sense that women get pissed. In the sense that women get pissed.

“My former boss’s ex-wife. Though, he got his head outta his ass, saw what he f**ked up and now they’re attempting a reconcile. So, I guess I should say, the last year, Maggie and Wood been seein’ to my shit.”