The One Who Got Away

“Look, the last thing I want to do is hurt him. He’s such a puppy. And I know he’s lonely.”

Ben grinned. “I’ve never thought of him as a puppy, but I do agree about the lonely part. It’s not easy to find a woman who likes to fish as much as he does.”

“That doesn’t mean he has to go in the opposite direction. I could even understand a compromise. But this…this is nuts.”

“I agree.”

She sipped again, and he focused on her lips. Glossy-pink. Perfectly formed, ripe for kissing. She’d become an uncommon beauty, and if his signals weren’t crossed, she wasn’t averse to the idea of making this week quite memorable. However, it wasn’t going to be remembered for tonight. The dollop of scotch had gone straight to his head, and if he didn’t get up to the room soon, things were going to get ugly.

“Taylor,” he said, “I hate to cut the party short, but I’m going to have to bail. I was up way too early this morning.”

She put her drink down on the table, and he would swear she looked guilty. Why? He hadn’t a clue.

“No problem. I need to get some sleep myself.” She stood, smoothing her short skirt down. “Are you going to be around tomorrow? I’ll talk to Mom as soon as I can.”

He pulled out his wallet, then one of his cards. “Try my room, but if not, I’ve got my cell.”

“Terrific.” Her smile made him weak in the knees.

He stood, held out his hand. “Can I walk you up?”

“Thank you, but actually, I need to pick up something at the gift shop. You go on ahead.”

Disappointed, he nodded. Leaned over and kissed her cheek. Wanted to do a lot more. But he backed off. What he needed was sleep. He wanted to be on his game for Taylor. Nothing less would do. “Until tomorrow.”

She nodded, and as he walked away, he heard that sigh again. It almost made him turn around, but he held the course. Although he made his living interpreting nonverbal cues, he couldn’t figure this one out. Either she was glad to get rid of him, or damn sorry to see him go.

He chose to believe it was the latter.

3

TAYLOR WATCHED BEN get into the elevator. He smiled at her, not noticing that behind him, a tall brunette in shorts was eyeing him with palpable lust. Or maybe he did know. Maybe he’d grown so accustomed to gorgeous women wanting him that it was old hat by now. The elevator doors closed while she still had her hand up, waving.

She wasn’t sure why she’d told him she had to buy something. In fact, she didn’t need a thing, and for all she knew the gift shop was closed by now. Instead, she wandered into the circular casino, her gaze shifting from the machines to the gamblers at the tables.

She’d never done much playing herself, even though she’d come to Vegas several times since she’d turned twenty-one. Mostly she liked to hang out at the blackjack tables—the cheap ones, not those with a minimum bet of twenty-five dollars. She wasn’t rich enough to squander money like that. And normally, she wasn’t an extraordinary risk-taker. Her mother didn’t believe that, given her preference for motorcycles over cars, but it was true. There were only so many chances a person could take in life, and she wanted to make her gambles count.

Like her personal agenda for this trip, for example. Sleeping with Ben wasn’t so much a gamble as a last-ditch attempt to get herself back on course. She was twenty-eight, for heaven’s sake, and dammit, she wanted to get married. Have kids. Two, to be precise. And she had no intention of settling.

Sure there had been nice guys, and she’d liked one or two a great deal. But it hadn’t been enough. Perhaps her friends from Eve’s Apple were right: she was too picky. She wanted a fairy-tale hero, not a real-life husband. What Taylor didn’t understand was why she had to have one or the other. And no, she didn’t feel as if she were reaching for the moon.

The truth was, she liked her life. She didn’t sit around and mope because she wasn’t married. She had lots of things she loved doing, including her bike, shooting pool in her league, going to flea markets, reading, a secret addiction to the Food Channel. She never felt bored, she always had a full plate, and for the most part, she was happy. All she really wanted was someone to share it all with. And, oh, God, how she wanted to have kids.

The Apple gals had suggested she consider doing that on her own, but Taylor had dismissed the idea. In her opinion children needed a father. Not that women couldn’t raise kids successfully solo, but it was tough on everybody. Taylor had gotten along incredibly well with her father, and that relationship had formed her in so many ways. A lot of her independence had come from her father’s attitude toward her. He’d always told her she could do anything, be anyone she wanted to be.

She couldn’t imagine having grown up without his influence.

So, okay, maybe by the time she was thirty-five, if she still hadn’t found Mr. Right, then she’d seriously consider it. But for now, she was determined to go for the brass ring. Being with Ben was an important part of the equation, and she still believed with all her heart that once this week was over, her life would change dramatically. She’d be able to date with new eyes, not always comparing the men she met to Ben.

She already felt better about things. His looks, for example. Yes, it was true he was stunningly gorgeous. But she’d been able to put that fact into perspective. There were lots of gorgeous men, but frankly, she would have been drawn to him even if he wasn’t so handsome.

And that was the whole point. By the time Steve and Lisa got married she would have everything about Ben in perspective, and then she would be able to move on.

It didn’t hurt that the task was going to be such a pleasant one, either. She grinned, but her mood deflated the next second. Perspective was well and fine, but the end result also meant she was going to lose something kind of special. A long-held fantasy was going to disappear in the light of those new eyes, and that was kind of sad.

He’d been her superhero, her perfect guy for so long, it was hard to imagine that standard falling away. But it had to.

Someone bumped her right shoulder, and she turned to face a nice-looking, white-haired gentleman in a really snazzy tuxedo. He smiled, bowed his head gently and apologized. She nodded, then headed toward the elevator, but stopped just before she left the casino floor. There was an Elvis slot machine which would play a song if you hit the jackpot. She pulled a five from her purse, and slipped it in the slot. Instead of a handle, she pressed a button, playing maximum coins. Nothing.

Nothing the second hit, or the third. In the end she only got one cherry. Her five was gone, and she hadn’t heard “Love Me Tender.”

C’est la vie. Her real gamble was up in his room, sleeping by now. Dreaming of her?

BEN STARED AT THE CLOCK on the night table, the minutes passing so slowly they felt like hours. Sleep eluded him—due, to a large degree, to his preoccupation with Taylor.

The connection was still there after all these years. He hadn’t expected that. She’d been so young back then, and had he had an ounce of decency in him, he’d be ashamed that he’d taken advantage of her youth. Yeah, she’d come on to him, but a stronger man would have said no. When it came to Taylor, however, he wasn’t the least bit strong.

Not that he’d always felt that way about her. Back when he and Steve had first started hanging out, Taylor had been a nuisance. She’d followed them everywhere in the tradition of baby sisters, always running to her mother when they’d shut her out of their “big kid” adventures. So they’d had to drag her along when it would have been a lot more fun without her. He hadn’t minded too much. As an only child, he’d always wondered what it would be like to have a sibling. He would have voted for a brother, however. A girl was too foreign. Too girly. And he’d wanted to be the toughest kid in town.

Steve had always protected the little brat, no matter what, even though he’d complained about her presence. Then protecting Taylor had become a part of him, too. He’d kept the older kids from picking on the tall, skinny tomboy.

After he’d graduated high school, he’d pretty much forgotten about her. Until he’d come home that last week, just after she’d turned eighteen.

His folks were gone on a trip he’d bought them. He’d liked the quiet and the peace, the time to study. He’d been taking night classes, studying forensics. During the day, he’d been a beat cop, and the toll had been heavy. The week away had been a blessing.

When Taylor had dropped by, making it awkwardly, painfully clear that she’d wanted him to take her, he’d hesitated, sure, but finally, he’d given in.

They’d stayed in bed for damn near three days. Doing everything they could think of, and by God the girl had an amazing imagination. She’d been wild, free, unafraid. The first time she’d taken him in her mouth, he’d nearly had a heart attack. And he could still remember her cries when he’d showed her the pleasure of his mouth on her.

She’d cried when they said goodbye, and he’d felt bad, but he’d explained to her that he was only in town for a short visit. The letters she’d sent him had come frequently at first, always with an invitation for a return visit, but he’d only answered one. There was no future for the two of them. Even if she had ended up at a college in New York, he couldn’t have kept up a relationship.

His career had been his whole focus for a long, long time. Back then, he’d wanted to be a homicide detective, and he’d accepted every lousy assignment, volunteered for all the crap no one else wanted to do. He’d eventually gotten his master’s degree in forensic science.

But he’d still made it out to California most years to go fishing with Steve. He’d heard about Taylor’s adventures at Berkeley, her first apartment, her job as a paralegal.

Steve had also told her that Taylor wanted to marry, to have kids, to have the kind of life that demanded the suburbs. Not Manhattan. Not with a cop.

But this week wasn’t about marriage and kids, at least not for them. It was Vegas, after all. Sin City. They were here to have a good time, to be there for Steve, although not in the way Steve imagined.

Ben turned over, thinking about his friend, what had gotten into him. Lisa represented everything Steve had avoided in his life. His love of his fishing boats, and his freedom, were so important to Steve, and anyone who knew him saw that from the get-go. So what had happened? Why the radical shift?

Lisa seemed nice enough, but there was no way in hell she was going to make Steve forget about his life in San Diego. Kansas was a terrible mistake, Ben felt it in his bones.

Maybe he should just shut up and let Steve do what he needed to. Or maybe, this was what being a friend was all about.

Whatever, he wasn’t going to be any good to anyone if he didn’t get some sleep.

His hand moved down his stomach until he gripped his length in his hand. Eyes closed, he pictured Taylor sitting across from him in the cabana. That tantalizing stretch of bare thigh.