Epilogue 1
Landon
7 years later
“ A G&T, please.”
“Ah, you’re English. Cute.” The blond half-turned toward me, her gaze sliding down my chest and lingering inappropriately on my crotch for a moment. Pushing past the instinctive grimace that threatened to ruin our meet-cute, I smiled.
“You’re very observant…” I pretended to focus on her laminated name tag. “Melissa.” My smile widened as she fluttered her eyelashes at me. Like most heterosexual women, Melissa Fennel was not immune to my looks and natural charm.
The bartender slid my gin and tonic over the bar and lingered to see if I wanted anything else.
“Can I buy you a drink, Melissa?”
“That would be lovely, thank you. Another chardonnay, please.”
The barman quickly fetched her drink and then took my Black Amex, nodding in thanks at the additional tip. It never hurt to treat service staff with respect. There but for the grace of God it could have been me after my father disinherited me shortly before his sad end.
RIP Dad.
Thank fuck I’d found a path in life that suited my special skills. One I enjoyed. Well, most of the time.
“So…what do I call you?” Melissa was at least 10 years my senior, but clearly a practiced seductress, just as her poor husband suspected. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Or in this case, in Palm Springs, where Melissa was staying while attending a dental conference.
“Landon.” I stepped closer.
She hummed in approval, looking at me like I was a tall drink of cold water in the desert.
“Cute name for a cute guy.” God, was this her usual pickup line? It fucking sucked.
Thea laughed in my ear. “The bitch has zero game,” she muttered in disgust, having seen and heard everything from the tiny camera fixed to my jacket. “Let’s move things on fast so we can get the evidence and nail her ass. I don’t like her touching what’s mine.”
I fully agreed with my wife. The way Melissa kept feeling my leg as she leaned in gave me the creeps. Getting up close and personal with cheating wives and girlfriends to test their commitment to their partners was all part of the job, but at times like this, I fucking hated it.
It reminded me of the shit my father used to have me do.
Thea hadn’t wanted me to take on the role of honeytrap. In fact she’d argued vehemently against it, saying it was bad for my mental health, but we’d all agreed I was the best person for the job. Dario sometimes acted as a honeytrap for females, but after he’d slapped some handsy woman groping him in a bar - and got himself arrested - I’d stepped in.
Clementine needed me less now she was older, and since the private investigations business Thea and Dario had started was growing fast, it made sense for me to step in when needed. Plus I had experience, as Thea loved to remind me when I pissed her off.
Two more glasses of wine and a snooze-fest of boring chat later, it was pretty fucking obvious Melissa Fennel was far from a loyal wife. She’d made it more than clear she wanted to take me to her suite and fuck my brains out.
“So sexy,” she slurred, her hand gripping my thigh as the barman pretended not to notice. I placed my hand over hers, just in case she tried touching my dick. That was a hard limit for me. My beautiful wife was the only woman who got to touch my junk these days.
“Dar’s in position for the backup photos, so make it good, babe.” I heard the crinkle of a candy wrapper and smiled. It sounded as if Thea had succumbed to a chocolate craving, even though she swore blind she’d done a sugar detox.
I glanced over Melissa’s shoulder as she yammered on about her job. Sure enough, Dario hovered near a slots machine with his phone, looking like any other random guy here to watch the NFL game and enjoy a drink. Thea had insisted he wore a bright red MAGA baseball cap to deter any sensible female from approaching. It seemed to have worked, as not one woman had stepped within five feet of him.
Melissa finished her monologue and stared up at me. “Wanna go back to my room for more drinks?” She was attractive, I’d give her that, but for fuck’s sake, she had a husband who loved her at home. The poor sap had grown suspicious after a colleague hinted Melissa was playing away.
I angled my body so Dario could get a few decent shots of Melissa’s hand on my thigh and her tits practically in my face.
“Good work, babe. Now get your ass out here. I’m horny.” Thea’s husky voice through the earpiece triggered an instant erection, something Melissa noticed, much to my consternation.
“Looks like that’s a yes,” the woman beside me chuckled throatily. “I’ll just pop to the ladies’ room. Be right back.” She squeezed my leg and wobbled off.
“Thank fuck for that,” I muttered. “Tell her I got called away, yeah?” The barman smirked as I shoved a few notes at him.
“Sure, will do.”
Dario followed me back out, cackling to himself. “Still got it, Casanova,” he laughed.
“Fuck off,” I huffed, debating whether it was worth the aggravation it would cause if I punched him in the face.
Before I could act on my desire, the woman of my dreams appeared out of nowhere with a wide smile on her face. She hooked her arm in mine and pulled me away from the hotel bar toward a black town car idling at the curb.
“Hop in, I have a surprise.”
“Does it involve me fucking your brains out, wifey?”
“It might,” she admitted coyly.
My dick immediately perked up, having wilted in the short walk from the bar to the van.
“Then I’m all in!”
“Of course you fucking are,” Dario snorted as he climbed into the front passenger seat and closed the door.