Vegas With Dad's Best Friend

Without a word further, the ringleader snatches his CD back out of the young woman’s hand and they take off, disappearing into the crowd the way only a local can.

It’s over – and she’s safe.

Which is good, because now I realized why she looks so familiar.

“Savannah?” I say. “It is you, isn’t it?”

She blinks up at me, her eyes struggling to focus. She looks like she’s in shock. “Wait,” she says. “J… Jonas?”

I smile. I knew it was her. I just didn’t recognize her at first because of how long it’s been.

It must be at least six or seven years. She was… what? Fifteen? The last time I saw her. That was when I moved out here full-time, after a long period of trying to manage my business investments from Texas. Once it became clear that Vegas was the place to make money, I made the commitment.

But not without leaving a whole life behind.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask. “I haven’t heard from your Dad recently. You should have let me know you were coming.” Her dad was once my best friend. We used to live down the street from each other. It feels like another life ago now, so different from life here in the city of sin.

“I, um,” Savannah says.

Looking closer, past how familiar she is and yet how different, past how much she’s grown up – and how my body responds to hers, which I shouldn’t really be thinking about now that I know who she is – I realize that she’s shaking. Her gaze is still unfocused, and she’s staring off down the street in the direction those punks went, as if afraid they’ll come back for her.

“Savannah,” I say softly, calling her attention back to me. Her big, blue eyes swing to mine, as bright as a sunny sky and yet unsettlingly blank. She’s in shock, I was right about that. Serious shock. “You need to sit down and have something to drink. Will you come with me?”

She nods uncertainly but doesn’t move at all. It looks like I need to take matters into my own hands.

I take her shoulders in my hands, pulling her towards me. She doesn’t resist, which is good, and she doesn’t appear to be frightened at the contact. I pull her close to my side and turn, slipping one arm across her shoulders so that I can keep hold of her. I walk her down the street, keeping her shielded against the side of the building so the majority of people are away from her, dodging the other con artists still plying their trade.

Luckily, I know the stripe well enough to know that there is a quiet sandwich bar and café inside one of the nearby casinos, tucked away between a couple of more popular restaurants and never quite as busy. I shepherd Savannah inside, trying to focus on getting her safe and helping her to calm down – and not on how her warm skin feels under my hand and against my side.

Chapter Four

Savannah

I find myself sitting in a quiet café, staring at the top of a table. My hands are laying on it, and I’m not quite sure how I got here.

But I do know one thing is that it was Jonas who brought me.

I could barely register it was him when he stepped into my sight and rescued me. I had the feeling that it was all a dream. Why shouldn’t my dad’s old best friend, who happened to be the man I’d had a crush on for pretty much all of my teenage years, be there too?

But now I’m starting to come back to myself. I realize that none of that was a dream – no matter how much like a nightmare it might have felt. I was trapped with those three men, and no one else stepped forward to help me or stop me from getting robbed – or worse.

No one but Jonas.

Of all the people I thought I would meet in Las Vegas, he was the last on my list. I knew he came out here all of those years ago, of course, but dad hadn’t really mentioned anything about him since. I hadn’t even known that he was still out here. Since going to college, I guess I’d kind of forgotten about Jonas and my silly infatuation with him.

He was always my dad’s hot older friend. And sitting opposite him now, I see that hasn’t changed.

“Are you feeling a little better?” he asks, reaching for my hand across the table. It sends a spark of lightning through me when we touch. The more I come back out of whatever it was that just happened, the more I realize just how hot he still is.

“I’m fine, I think,” I say, nodding. I feel a little embarrassed. Why did I have to have such an episode in front of him? He’s sitting there in a black suit and tie, looking expensive and handsome, his tailored clothes fitting well over his still fit and healthy body. Even though he looks a little older than I remember, he doesn’t look old. Not like my dad. He has laugh lines and tanned skin and a haircut that actually, well, looks like a haircut.