Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
A va sighed as Kyle dipped Rachel back in a dramatic kiss, their happiness radiating through the tiny Vegas wedding chapel. The love between them was almost tangible, thick in the air like, the scent of roses and old wood polish. It wasn’t the tacky spectacle she had expected when Rachel had sprung the surprise on her and Reed. No Elvis impersonators, no cheesy neon hearts blinking above the altar, no half-drunk couples stumbling in to make bad decisions.
Instead, the place had a charming, almost old-fashioned intimacy. The minister was an elderly man with a kind face, his pinstriped suit slightly wrinkled but neat. His wife, a plump woman with Lucille Ball-colored hair and bright coral lipstick, played the piano with a soft, practiced touch, beaming at them like they were her own grandchildren. The floral arrangements were fresh and lush, though one suspiciously resembled a funeral bouquet. Ava really didn’t want to check the card she’d spotted peeking out from the white lilies.
Not that any of it mattered. Rachel and Kyle had eyes only for each other, locked in the kind of love that Ava had always told herself she didn’t have time for.
They signed the paperwork, sealed the deal, and were promptly handed free passes to a breakfast buffet at the strip club next door. Yeah, that was a hard pass. She was all for new experiences, but she could think of about a thousand better ways to start her morning than with soggy eggs and questionable body glitter.
The four of them stepped out into the midday sun, the Las Vegas Strip buzzing with life around them. The heat pressed down, dry and intense, but not unpleasant. Ava was grateful she’d packed a light sundress, the fabric brushing against her bare legs as she walked. The idea of spending the rest of the day by the pool, catching up on reading—or maybe even getting some sleep for once—was tempting. But as she glanced around at the flashing billboards, the bustling crowds, the never-ending hum of music and chatter, she hesitated.
Vegas was a world in itself. A sensory overload of possibilities.
She wasn’t the type of person who went on wild, spontaneous adventures. She had always been practical, focused, her head down in textbooks while her classmates partied. She had never taken a spring break trip to Cancun, never danced on a bar, never gambled away a paycheck just for the thrill. She’d had responsibilities.
She’d worked hard to graduate high school early, get a scholarship, and sustain her GPA so she could keep any loans low. They’d sold her parents’ house and did their best to save the money, along with the meager life insurance, but it wasn’t much, not enough for living expenses and medical school. Noah offered to use some of his rodeo money to pay for her college but, once he got injured, ending his career, things got way more complicated for both of them. She worked when she could, especially during undergrad years, to support herself. Between her job and studying, that left little time or money for partying.
Maybe…maybe she should do something different for once. Cut loose. Take a risk.
Who would even know?
Rachel and Kyle slowed their pace, laughing as they got tangled up in another kiss. Ava and Reed both looked away awkwardly, pretending to admire the towering resort hotels instead of the blatant PDA happening right next to them.
When Rachel finally surfaced, breathless and grinning, she gave them a sheepish look. “Sorry. You’d think we’d be over this by now. I mean, we’ve been together forever. But something about being officially married is just really hot.”
Kyle smirked, tugging her close. “Would you two mind if we, uh…called it a night? Or an afternoon?”
Reed barked out a laugh. “You mean, ‘Would we mind if you guys ditched us for some legally sanctioned sex?’” He grinned. “Go. We’ll survive.”
Rachel hesitated for a second, looking at Ava, but Ava rolled her eyes and shooed her away. “Go. Be disgustingly happy. I’ll see you later.”
Rachel needed no further encouragement. She grabbed Kyle’s hand and practically ran toward the casino hotel, her laughter floating behind her as they disappeared into the crowd.
Ava let out a slow breath, trying to ignore the dull ache of disappointment. She had been looking forward to spending time with Rachel—exploring, having a girls’ weekend before the inevitable whirlwind of wedding receptions and family drama swallowed them up again.
But now? She was stuck alone.
Or…not alone.
She turned toward Reed, already resigning herself to a solo afternoon. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later.”
She pivoted toward the casino, but before she could take a step, his voice stopped her.
“Hang on. Where are you off to?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t know. The room. Maybe the pool.” She shrugged. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
He stepped closer, a lazy smirk playing on his lips, his hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans. “Come on, Doc. We’re in Vegas, and you’re going to spend it in your room?” He shook his head. “That’s criminal. You should do something. Gambling a little, hitting a show, people-watching. There’s too much to see and not enough time.”
Her pulse did a slow, stupid little flip.
Hanging out with Reed? Did she dare?
They weren’t exactly friends. They worked together. They sparred. He got under her skin like no one else. And worse—she noticed him. The way his T-shirts stretched over broad shoulders, the way he moved with easy, cocky confidence. The way his voice dipped just a little lower when he teased her.
She didn’t trust that attraction.
She didn’t trust herself.
As if reading her hesitation, he gave her an exaggerated sigh, stepping even closer, enough that she could catch the enticing scent of him—clean soap and leather, edgy and exciting.
“No one will know,” he murmured, his tone laced with mischief. “You can cut loose. Have fun. No rules, no expectations. What happens in Vegas…stays in Vegas.”
Ava swallowed; her throat suddenly dry.
God help her. The idea was tempting.
Reed was trouble. He had always been trouble. And the logical part of her brain told her this was a bad idea—the kind—that came with consequences, that came with regret.
But when he looked at her like that, like he was daring her to take a step outside of her carefully structured life…
She wanted to say yes.
She wanted to see what happened if, just for once, she let herself enjoy the moment.
So instead of shutting him down, instead of rolling her eyes and walking away like she always did, she lifted her chin, met his gaze, and gave him a challenging smile.
“Alright, Campbell,” she said. “Show me what Vegas has to offer.”
The way his grin spread—slow and knowing—told her she might have just made a very dangerous decision.
R eed Campbell had seen a lot of surprising things in his life—hell, being an EMT guaranteed that—but nothing had prepared him for the sight of Ava Spencer, usually so buttoned-up and precise, throwing back tequila shots and laughing like she didn't have a care in the world.
“Another round!” she called to the cocktail waitress gliding by their Blackjack table, her voice carrying over the constant symphony of slot machines and jubilant cries from the craps tables. The chandelier lights above caught in her blonde hair, now loose around her shoulders instead of pulled back in its usual severe bun.
She caught him staring and raised an eyebrow. “What? You've never seen a doctor drink before?”
“Not like this,” he admitted with a grin, sliding another chip forward as the dealer prepared the next hand. “I’ve only ever seen you with a single glass of wine at Noah’s barbecues.”
“That's because I'm usually on call. Or about to be on call. Or recovering from being on call.” She leaned in, close enough that he could smell her perfume, something light and citrusy that made him think of summer, and arrowed straight south to his cock. “But we're in Vegas, baby. No one knows Dr. Spencer here.”
The dealer dealt their cards. Reed glanced at his hand—seventeen. Risky. But then, he'd always been comfortable with risk. He tapped the table for another card.
“Bold move, Campbell.” Ava's eyes glinted as she watched him bust with a queen. “You always push your luck like that?”
“Always. What’s life without a little risk?” He watched as she played her hand perfectly, mathematical precision even with three tequila shots clouding her judgment. She collected her winnings with a satisfied smirk that did strange things to his chest. “Except when it comes to certain things.”
Like dating his best friend's little sister. Like dating a colleague. Like dating someone who was both those things and also his complete opposite—careful where he was reckless, methodical, where he was spontaneous.
Like dating someone, he might actually care about losing.
But this was Vegas, where the rules seemed hazier than usual, softened by neon lights and the strange bubble of anonymity they'd found themselves in since Rachel and Kyle had run off to their honeymoon suite.
“I’m up two hundred,” Ava announced, stacking her chips. “Let's go see that Cirque show everyone's talking about.”
“Your wish is my command.” Reed offered his arm with an exaggerated bow, ignoring the flutter in his stomach when she looped her arm through his, her body warm against his side as they wove through the casino.
T he theater was dark, the stage awash in blues and purples as acrobats twisted impossibly through the air above them. Reed found himself watching Ava more than the show, fascinated by the wonder on her face, the unguarded joy as she gasped at particularly daring moves.
“That's incredible,” she whispered, eyes wide as a performer executed a quadruple somersault. “The body control they must have…”
“Says the woman who set Mikey’s fractured radius in under thirty minutes with minimal pain to him,” he murmured back. “I’ve seen your hands work. They're pretty incredible too.”
She turned to him, surprise evident even in the dim light. Their faces were close, too close, and for a moment Reed thought about closing the distance. Instead, he cleared his throat and looked back at the stage.
“Well, I don't look that good in spandex,” she whispered after a moment, a smile in her voice.
Reed bit back what he wanted to say—that she'd look good in anything, or nothing at all—and forced himself to focus on the show. But his awareness of her beside him remained acute, a steady burn that not even the spectacular finale could distract him from.
“ I can't believe Rachel and Kyle actually did it,” Ava said hours later, swirling her martini as they sat at a bar overlooking the Strip. The city sprawled before them, a riot of lights and possibility. “I mean, I know they’ve been together forever, but this still seems so impulsive. They had only a couple of months until the wedding.”
“Sometimes you can’t wait.” Reed sipped his whiskey, watching her over the rim of his glass. “Besides, with all the bullshit they’ve been going through, I can’t really blame them. The cost, the stress, the family pressures. I don’t blame them for running away to get married.”
“Maybe.” She looked wistful, gazing out at the cityscape. “I’m happy for them. Really, I am. It's just... I'm almost thirty and I've never even come close to that kind of certainty about someone. I’ve been so busy working and studying and focusing on the next thing that I feel like my life is passing me by.”
She shifted in her seat and faced him. “I can’t even remember my last date, my last kiss. And quite frankly, I have no clue when I’ll have one again. Working in the ED isn’t exactly conducive to dating. I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do it? Dating?” He laughed. “I don’t date as much as you might think. My shifts are erratic and not all women like having their boyfriend not around when they want them.”
She snorted. “Please. You could have anyone you want. Half the ED staff would jump at dating you. I haven’t met anyone in months.”
“Because you're too busy saving the world and focusing on your career, your future,” he said gently. “Not a lot of room for surprises there. You need to step outside your comfort zone and take some chances.”
She laughed, but it held an edge of something almost sad. “Says the man who takes more risks than a Vegas gambler.”
“A little risk makes everything more exciting.” Reed's voice was sharper than he intended, then he softened his tone. “Haven’t you had fun tonight? You made money, right? You wouldn’t have done that without taking a few chances.”
A smile teased the corner of her lips. “Yeah, I guess.”
He gave it to the urge that had been plaguing him all night. He leaned forward and tucked the lock of blonde hair that brushed her cheek behind her ear, letting his fingers gently stroke down her throat, feeling her soft skin and her pounding pulse.
“Sometimes you need to take calculated risks.”
She stared at him for so long; he wondered if he had overstepped. Then she spoke. “And sometimes you just need to take the leap.” She drained her martini and set the glass down with a decisive click. “Don’t you agree?”
The air between them felt electric. Reed thought about Noah, Ava's brother, and his best friend since high school. He thought about the ED, about professional boundaries. He thought about all the careful distance he'd maintained for years.
Then he thought about how none of that seemed to matter right now, with Vegas spread out before them and Ava looking at him like she was seeing him for the first time.
“What did you have in mind?” he asked, his voice rough.
“Something crazy.” Her smile was slow, dangerous. “Something I'd never do back home.”
“Like what?”
She leaned forward. “Let’s get married.”
Reed choked on his whiskey. “What?”
“A Vegas wedding. Just like Rachel and Kyle, but without all the planning and stress. Just...spontaneous. Crazy.” Her eyes were bright, challenging. “Unless you're not as much of a risk-taker as you pretend to be.”
The rational part of his brain—the part that had established the no-coworkers rule in the first place—was screaming at him to laugh it off, to remind her they weren't even dating, that they worked together, that this was insane.
But the look in her eyes, vulnerable beneath the bravado, stopped him. This was Ava Spencer, who planned everything to the minute, who never left anything to chance, suggesting the most impulsive decision imaginable.
“How drunk are you?” he asked, searching her face.
“No one knows us here,” she said, echoing his words from earlier. “No expectations. No history. Just us, right now.” She paused, something uncertain flickering across her features. “Unless you don't want to.”
Reed thought about all the times he'd watched her in the ED, admiring her skill, her focus, her determination. He thought about all the times he'd made excuses not to ask her out, not to cross that line. He thought about how she looked right now, with her hair down and her guard lowered, more beautiful than he'd ever seen her.
“Let's do it,” he heard himself say, rationality drowned out by the pounding of his heart. “Right now, before either of us changes our mind.”
Ava's smile was like sunrise breaking across the Vegas skyline, brilliant and transformative. She grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet.
“I know just the place,” she said, already leading him toward the exit. “Elvis chapel. Full Vegas experience.”
Reed followed, his head spinning with more than just whiskey. Whatever happened tomorrow—explanations to Noah, awkward conversations at work, potential regrets—that was tomorrow's problem. Tonight, in this city of light and chance, he was taking the biggest risk of his life with the one woman who'd always made him question his own rules.
And he couldn't wait to see where it led.