CHAPTER 21
Riggs
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Maybe not a good idea—more like an okay idea.
But now that it’s happening, maybe not an okay idea. More like a really, really bad idea.
What was I thinking? And what should I do when she gets here? Shake her hand? Hug her? Stand here like an idiot?
This was the worst idea ever!
We’re waiting for them to come down the corridor. Their flight was delayed twenty minutes—long enough for me to think of all the ways this can go wrong.
I shouldn’t be, but I’m nervous as hell.
Ash, on the other hand, can hardly wait to see Rhonda.
I’ve never seen him like this about a girl.
She’s certainly cute enough, with curves for days, but I think it’s the way she treats him, like he’s a misbehaving dog she needs to train.
Maybe my brother just needed to find a girl who could match his out-of-control attitude tit for tat.
If anything, she seems to have a way of keeping him off balance, and it’s nice to see for a change.
It’s always been the other way around when it came to my brother and the women he’s chased.
He’s met his match with this one for sure.
Like Ash and Hourglass Girl, Maddie and I have texted every day this past week.
When she tells me how her day went and all she still has to do, I feel so bad for her.
Even when we text after ten at night, she still has a lot left on her plate, often sewing for a couple more hours.
And that’s her routine, day after day. She can’t be getting more than four or five hours of sleep.
I don’t know how she does it. And I thought I was tough.
When Rhonda sees Ash, she screams, drops her bags, takes a running leap, and somehow lands with her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck, and her lips planted firmly on his. It’s the kind of move you’d want to watch on replay in slow motion. Impressive.
In a much more subdued way, I walk up to meet Maddie. When I reach her, she lets go of the handle of her luggage, which looks like it’s seen better days, and I extend my hand with, “Glad you could make—”
She pushes my hand aside and throws her arms around me. To my surprise, she buries her face in my chest. Damn, she smells good. Damn, she feels good. I can’t help it—I hug her back. But I wonder why she’s acting like this.
After a minute, she lets go with a soft smile and a look in her eyes I can’t quite decipher. I can tell this is about more than a trip to Vegas. Something happened, but what? “Is this about your mother?”
“Yeah. Remember the tests I was telling you about last week?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Mom had a doctor’s appointment this morning. I was worried I wouldn’t make the flight, but I got to the airport just in time. Anyway, he said things are moving in the right direction for the first time since she was diagnosed.”
Without thinking I pull her to my chest and squeeze her tight with another hug. “That’s great!”
When it comes to cancer, good news is rare, so this is a really big deal.
But when I feel her hips pressed against me, something she probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing, my dick can’t take it, so I let her go and take a half-step back with, “Really glad to hear that. Hopefully, things will keep getting better.”
She’s still smiling ear to ear when she says, “I know, right? Hopefully they will.”
She’s happy, which she should be, but from her tone I can tell she’s also being cautious, which is good.
I know what it’s like to keep your guard up even when things look promising.
That’s what happens when you’ve had the rug pulled out from under you too many times and cancer has a way of doing that.
I pick up her carry-on, but when I look around, I don’t see Ash or Rhonda. “Where did they go?”
She laughs. “They left in a hurry. As horny as Rhonda has been this week, I’m not surprised. The things that girl says, and in public no less!”
As we walk to the parking garage, my curiosity gets the better of me. “What did you mean about Rhonda?”
She huffs with an eye roll. “The other day I caught her telling one of our customers all about her vibrator and, let me tell you, there were details. Then she told the woman, and I quote, ‘If my vibrator were a car, it’d have over a million miles on it.’ The woman was eighty-four!”
“Wow. Was she upset?”
“Are you kidding? She wanted to know where to get one. All week I had to keep reminding Rhonda that we sell sewing machines, not sex machines. Honestly, she could open her own adult toy store. Those old ladies love talking to her about their sexcapades in the old hay barns. I think they’d keep her store pretty busy. ”
“Old ladies? What kind of town do you live in?”
“A horny one, for sure. Must be something in the water.”
It’s a short drive to the resort. Ash wouldn’t settle for anything less than the best, so we’re staying at one of the nicest hotels in Vegas. In the lobby, I hand Maddie her room key. “Ash kind of went a little overboard.”
“I don’t understand?”
“You will.”
“Okay.” She draws out the word okay like she’s almost afraid of what she might find.
I ignore her and press on. “I imagine you’re hungry. I’m starving. If you want to drop off your bag, I’ll take you to get something to eat. I can wait here, unless you need some time to get ready.”
“No, I can go now. What room is it?”
“3614.”
“Thirty-six? How many floors are there?”
“Thirty-six.”
“Okay. Are we all on the same floor?”
“Yep. Our rooms are next to each other.”
“I take it they have the same room. So much for her being a good girl.”
I can’t help a grin. “I think that ship sailed the day they met.”
“I think within the first two hours,” she says, grabbing the handle of her luggage. “Told you, something in the water.”
I almost ask if that water makes her horny, too, but stop myself.
The attraction I felt for her at the ski lodge was bad enough, and now that I’ve gotten to know her better, it’s so much worse.
It’s like my brain switched to beast mode the moment she hugged me, and now all I want to do is sweep her off her feet, carry her to my room, tear her clothes off, and have my way with her.
It’s hard to keep a clear head when my blood keeps pumping to where I wish it wouldn’t.
Suddenly I’m too aware of her just standing there facing me. I need to say something, but not what I’m thinking. Something appropriate. “I think Ash has been drinking the same water since he was eleven. Remind me to tell you about our babysitter.”
A smile flashes in her eyes. “I used to babysit a kid just like that when I was sixteen. We’ll have to compare stories.”
I’m intrigued. “I can’t wait.”
As she gets on the elevator, I take a seat in the lobby. There’s a seafood restaurant downtown that I’ve wanted to try. I pull out my phone to see if they require a reservation. Doesn’t look like it. I’m reading the reviews, nearly all of them good, when my phone pings.
Maddie: OMG! OMG! OMG!
I laugh out loud.
Riggs: Yeah, thought you might like it.
Maddie: See you on Tuesday, because I’m never leaving this room! The tub is bigger than my entire bathroom. It even has a full kitchen and don’t get me started on the bedroom.
Riggs: You have to eat sometime.
Maddie: Room service!
Riggs: Please have dinner with me.
Maddie: Do I have to?
Riggs: Only because I said please.
Maddie: Dammit! Okay, on my way.
While waiting to be seated, I’m taking in the interesting décor while Maddie looks over the menu posted on the wall. “Lir is an interesting name for a restaurant,” she says.
Most of the tables are already full and more cars were pulling into the parking lot when we arrived. I’m glad we got here as early as we did.
“I thought so too, so I looked it up. Lir is the Irish god of the sea. I’ve eaten at some unique places, but never a Celtic seafood restaurant. I heard about this place at one of Elsie’s charity events in New York.”
“Really? She has a charity?”
“Not her charity. We contribute to seven that support breast cancer research. Elsie holds fundraising events for them. Ash and I attend if we’re not on the trail somewhere.”
She looks up at me with an expression I can’t quite interpret. Is she impressed, grateful, or something else?
“What?” I ask.
“Thank you.”
Not the response I expected, but I get it. “We’ve been fortunate, so we like to do what we can.”
“Mr. Dwyer, table for two,” the hostess calls out.
The small table in the corner of the dimly lit dining area looks like it was made out of driftwood.
The rest of the décor is fascinating. Dozens of vintage fish traps covered in the old-style nets made of cotton line hang on the walls.
Ash and I have designed several types of fish traps, so I’m always interested in how others are made. A few here are new to me.
Maddie and I enjoy an appetizer of pasta and moon snail—thin slices of meaty rolls floating in a pool of garlic butter. I google what a moon snail is and hold my phone so she can see.
“Seriously? It’s huge!”
The sea snail has a gray shell that’s about five inches in diameter and a meaty foot that’s twice as big. “Just goes to show that anything tastes good with enough butter and garlic.”
The food doesn’t disappoint. She ordered Greencastle chowder. I got the skate in brown butter, and we ordered a third dish just to try it—langoustine bisque, which is a thick, creamy soup with Dublin Bay prawns and a mix of vegetables.
“I thought for sure I would get salmon,” she says while taking a few pics of the dishes. “This is so much more interesting.”
“Ash and I love salmon. We usually try to stock up whenever we’re in Alaska.”
She uses her fork to skewer a prawn in the bisque and pops it in her mouth. “Oh my gosh!” she exclaims, covering her mouth with her hand. “It’s so good!”
I try a prawn, and she’s not exaggerating. “That is good.”
Next, she digs into her Greencastle chowder with her spoon. “This is good too.”
The way she says it, though, I can tell she’s not a fan. “Not what you expected?”