Chapter 3 #2
I hadn’t been this close to him in almost a year, and I’d forgotten what it did to me.
He was wearing a suit but it didn’t look like work. Dark gray, perfectly tailored to his shoulders and waist, jacket unbuttoned like he couldn’t be bothered with formality. No tie. Top button undone. Just enough to make you wonder about the rest.
And he was looking right at me.
“Oh my god,” Pauline whispered.
I couldn’t respond. He was getting closer. Then he was there.
“Claudette.”
My name in his voice. That was all it took. Just my name and everything in me went liquid.
“Michael.” I barely recognized my own voice. “H-Hi.”
What was he doing here?
His eyes moved over me slowly—starting at my face, lingering on my lips, then drifting down and back up in a way that should have been offensive but wasn’t. In a way that made heat crawl up my spine.
“Hi,” he said with a smile that undid me. “That’s new,” he added.
“The… lipstick?”
“All of it.” His gaze came back to my face and stayed there. “Vegas. The fact that you’re here at three in the morning.”
“Trying something different.”
“It’s working.”
The air between us felt thick. Heavy. Like if I moved wrong, something might ignite.
Pauline cleared her throat. I’d almost forgotten she was there.
“I’m going to get another drink,” she said, already backing away. “You two look like you need to talk.”
“You don’t have to—” I started.
“I really do.” She was grinning. “Take your time, we can complete our bucket list later.”
She disappeared into the casino crowd, and suddenly it was just us. Me and Michael and this charged space between us that felt dangerous.
“Your brother’s been trying to reach you,” he said.
Just like that, reality crashed back. “Oh, Jack sent you.” I don’t know why that disappointed me. Except I did know. I knew exactly why.
“He’s worried.”
“He’s always worried.”
“He said you left a note and disappeared.”
“I left a note saying where I’d be.”
“A note that said you were visiting your friend. Not that you’d flown to Vegas.”
“Well she is in Vegas. Note was accurate.”
His mouth did this thing. Not quite a smile but close. “You’re going to give him a heart attack. He asked me to make sure you hadn’t joined a cult or married an Elvis impersonator.”
“The night’s still young.”
This time he did smile. Small, but it looked genuine. And it did things to me that were completely inappropriate for a casino at three in the morning.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
“We are talking.”
“Somewhere quieter.”
I thought about it. Michael Ashford was my brother’s best friend and off-limits.
But I was wearing red lipstick in Vegas at three in the morning, and I was tired of being careful.
“Okay,” I said.
He held out his hand.
I looked at it. Thought about all the times I’d watched him keep distance. All the family dinners where he’d barely looked at me.
I took his hand.
His fingers closed around mine, and I felt it everywhere. In my chest, my stomach, places that had no business reacting to someone holding my hand.
He led me through the casino, and I barely saw any of it. Just focused on his hand around mine, his back in front of me, the fact that we were touching and he wasn’t letting go.
The bar was tucked away from the main casino floor—dark wood, leather booths, lighting so dim you could barely see the person across from you.
Michael ordered whiskey, neat. I ordered a fruit wine because I definitely wanted to remember every second of this.
We slid into a booth in the back corner, and the space immediately felt too small. Too intimate. Like we’d crossed some invisible line just by sitting down together.
“So,” Michael said, watching me over his glass. “Bucket list.”
“How do you know about that?”
“Pauline mentioned it before she disappeared.”
“She didn’t disappear.”
“She absolutely did.” He smiled—slow and heart-stopping. “Can’t say I blame her.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’ve been trying to get you alone for two years, and she just handed you to me in under five minutes.” He took a sip of his whiskey. “I like her.”
My heart forgot how to beat. “You’ve been trying to get me alone?”
“Is that really what you’re surprised about?” He leaned back, one arm draped over the booth. Completely relaxed. Completely in control. “Tell me about this bucket list.”
“It’s nothing. Just stupid stuff Pauline and I wrote when we were sixteen.”
“What kind of stupid stuff?”
“Like wearing red lipstick and going somewhere I’d never normally go.” I gestured around us. “Hence, Vegas at three in the morning.”
“What else?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Curious.” His eyes hadn’t left my face. “What other boxes are you trying to tick?”
My drink arrived. I took a long sip while I decided how honest to be.
“Learning Italian. Going skydiving. Road-tripping down Highway One.” I paused, let the words sit there for a second. “Having truly phenomenal sex with someone who knows what they’re doing.”
Michael’s glass paused halfway to his mouth, and something dark and hungry flashed across his face.
“That’s on your bucket list,” he said finally. His voice had dropped an octave.
“I was sixteen. I had priorities.”
“Phenomenal sex.” He set his glass down very carefully. “That’s specific.”
“Well, mediocre sex wasn’t worth putting on a list.”
“Mediocre.” He repeated the word, testing it. “So you’re telling me you’ve never had good—”
“I’ve had sex, and it was fine,” I interrupted, my face burning and wondering why I even brought it up.
He was quiet for a moment, studying me in that way that made me feel like he could see through every defense I had. The dim lighting carved shadows across his face, made him look dangerous. Made me very aware that we were alone in a back corner where no one could see us.
“What else is on this list?” he asked finally.
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying to figure out if I should be worried about what you’re planning to do in Vegas at three in the morning with a bucket list full of things you’ve never done.”
“Maybe you should be worried.”
“Maybe I should.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “So tell me. What’s the real reason you came here?”
I looked at him. At the way he was watching me like my answer actually mattered to him.
“I needed to escape,” I said finally. “From my parents walking on eggshells around me. Everyone treating me like I might break if they breathed wrong.” I took a breath that didn’t quite fill my lungs.
“I needed to do something reckless. Something that felt like living instead of just surviving everyone else’s worry. ”
Something changed in Michael’s face. Not pity—I would’ve hated pity. Something softer. Understanding maybe. Like he knew exactly what I meant.
“How long have you been feeling like that?” he asked.
“Too long.”
He was quiet for a moment, then he said. “Well, you deserve to feel alive, Claudette.”
The words settled in my chest, warm and unexpected. I expected him to scold me. To tell me I was making a mistake. Hell, I was expecting him to carry me out of here, into a private jet and back home to my family.
“What about you?” I asked, needing to shift focus before I said something embarrassing. “I saw your engagement announcement. To Hannah Pierce. That was all over the news some time ago.”
“We broke up.” He said it simply.
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It wasn’t—” He stopped. “It wasn’t what either of us actually wanted.”
I wanted to ask more. To understand what that meant. But something in his expression told me now wasn’t the time.
His mouth curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile—something more dangerous than that. “You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you came here looking for something.”
My heart was hammering now. “Like what?”
“Like this.” He reached across the table and took my hand, firmer this time. His thumb brushed across my knuckles, “Someone who’ll give you what you want instead of what everyone thinks you should have.”
I couldn’t breathe. “And what do I want?”
“You tell me.” His eyes were locked on mine. “What’s really on that list, Claudette? The things you’re too scared to say out loud?”
The words came out before I could stop them. “You.”
The single word hung between us.
Michael’s hand tightened on mine. “What?”
“You’re on the list. You’ve always been on the list.” My voice was shaking but I couldn’t stop now. “I want you.”
I couldn’t believe I said that. It was like all self control magically vanished and I was suddenly a different person. It might have been the high of being here, of escaping the way I did. It might have been the surprise of seeing him here. It was everything this night represented.
He was completely still. Then he stood up, pulling me with him.
“Come with me,” he said.
“Where?”
“You’ll see.” He was already moving, hand firm around mine. “Do you trust me?”
Did I trust him? I did, with everything in me.
We ended up outside on the Strip, and Michael was walking with purpose now. Like he knew exactly where we were going.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“You said you wanted reckless,” he said without slowing down.
“So you’re taking me somewhere… to be… reckless.”
“Something like that.”
We passed three casinos, two hotels, and a group of drunk bachelorettes before he stopped in front of a small chapel. White flowers in the windows, soft lighting inside, a sign that read “Open 24 Hours—Walk-Ins Welcome.”
My heart stopped.
“Michael—”
“Listen to me.” He turned to face me, both hands finding my waist. “You have a bucket list. Things you want to do before you run out of time to do them.” He stepped closer, close enough that I had to look up to meet his eyes.
I couldn’t breathe. My only focus was on his hands on my waist and the way he was looking at me.
“So here’s what I’m proposing.” His mouth curved into something wicked. “Literally proposing. Marry me.”
“What?!” My voice came out high with shock when Michael dropped to one knee.