Chapter 2
Ryan
I glanced out the small window of the airplane as we slowly taxied to a stop at the terminal, smiling at the sight of palm trees beyond the edge of the runway.
It was a relief to have made it, after a traffic jam on the way to the airport caused us to make a mad dash through the terminal in order to make our flight.
Mitch immediately stood and moved into the aisle, opening the overhead compartment and grabbing his designer duffel bag before setting the small, carry-on suitcase I’d brought down in the seat he’d just vacated.
“C’mon, man. Hustle your ass. I want to be off this plane and lounging poolside in an hour.”
I grinned at him, then stood up and stretched, grateful that I’d had the airline rewards points to upgrade our seats to first class. At six-foot-two, I needed the extra leg room.
Since we hadn’t needed to retrieve any checked luggage, it didn’t take long to make our way toward the ride-share pick-up area.
A wall of dry heat and relentless sunshine slammed into me as I stepped outside the airport doors, and I was thankful that I’d remembered to bring my sunglasses. I retrieved them from the side pocket of my bag and slipped them on.
“Yeah, that feels good,” I said, smiling widely. “Beats the hell out of the Indiana deep-freeze we just came from.”
Mitch laughed as he glanced at his phone to verify the information on the Uber app, then pointed to a blue SUV that was pulling up to the curb.
“That’s our ride.”
In moments, we were heading toward our hotel in air-conditioned comfort. The sight of Mitch’s phone in his hand reminded me that my own phone was still in airplane mode.
“Damn, I forgot to switch my phone back on,” I muttered as I shifted to fish it out of my back pocket. I tapped the screen, then hit the button to turn off airplane mode. It immediately pinged with incoming texts and missed call notifications.
Mitch nudged my arm as I started to scroll through the screen.
“You’re officially on vacation today, so you don’t need to worry about work calls, and you can check in with the little woman later. She’s probably busy at her office anyway,” he said dismissively, then turned to point out the fountains at the Bellagio as we drove by.
Not in the mood to have him give me shit for it, as he was prone to do, I slid my phone back into my pocket just as the driver came to a stop in front of our hotel, making a mental note to check it later.
We didn’t quite make it to the pool within the hour that Mitch wanted, but we didn’t miss it by much. The minute we got into the hotel suite, Mitch announced that he was changing into his swim trunks.
“The pool is up on the roof of the hotel, and you can see the entire Strip from there,” he informed me as he headed off toward one of the bedrooms to change.
I quickly tossed my suitcase on the bed in the second bedroom and opened it to find my swim trunks and a T-shirt. I changed and applied a little sunscreen, then snatched up my sunglasses, wallet, and cell phone, all the while Mitch hollered from the living area for me to hurry my ass up.
“There are gorgeous women in bikinis up there just waiting for us to buy them a drink.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him as I strolled out of the bedroom. “They’re all yours, man. The only person I’m buying drinks for is myself.”
Mitch scoffed but didn’t say a word as we left the room and headed down the hall toward the elevator.
Ten minutes later, my ass was lounging in a deck chair with a bottle of beer in my hand, watching my friend as he hit on a woman who was wearing one of the smallest bikinis I’d ever seen in my life.
I wasn’t surprised that she was a redhead, as Mitch had a thing for them.
I laughed to myself as he ordered her a drink, then sat down next to her to continue flirting, his eyes glued to the tits barely covered by two tiny triangles and a piece of string.
Melanie complained that he was a teenaged boy trapped in a middle-aged body, and she wasn’t wrong.
He was a lot of fun to hang out with though, and we had almost thirty years of memories together.
Besides, there was nothing wrong with not acting your age all the time.
Just because we were on the wrong side of forty didn’t mean that we had to behave like boring, old fuckers who had nothing better to do than complain about the weeds growing in our lawns and the high price of gasoline.
I looked around the pool with interest, spotting several famous faces in what was clearly a private VIP section on the far end of the rooftop deck.
Mitch ambled over and flopped down in the lounger next to me, holding an almost empty bottle of beer. I raised my brow questioningly, and he gave me a wry grin.
“Struck out?” I asked, tipping my head toward the redhead who was leaving with several other women.
“Only for the moment. She and her friends have appointments at the spa, so I’ll meet up with her later unless someone else catches my eye.”
I snorted as I lifted my beer to take a drink. His confidence bordered on arrogance, but he’d always been like that, even back in high school.
He glanced around, doing a double take as he spotted the celebrities partying in the private section.
“Holy shit…that’s Tasha Madison!”
Of course, the first person Mitch zeroed in on was a supermodel.
“Yeah, and she’s with what’s-her-face, that actress who’s dating the Patriots’ quarterback,” I offered, pulling out my phone to subtly snap a few photos and then sent them to my younger brother, Derek. He was going to be jealous as hell that he was missing out on this.
“He’s one of the players in the tournament,” Mitch said distractedly, then pointed out a woman he swore was a former Playboy bunny.
I squinted as I studied the woman. She had huge tits that defied gravity, and I marveled at the engineering on her yellow bikini top that managed – barely – to contain them.
She certainly fit the image of a centerfold, so I’d take Mitch’s word for it.
I hadn’t bothered looking at a Playboy magazine since Monica Sandowsky had let me take her bra off when I was sixteen.
From then on, pictures just hadn’t been the same when I could have the real thing.
I closed my eyes and settled back in the lounge chair, listening with half an ear as he rambled on about the women around us and how hot they were.
My thoughts drifted to Melanie, wishing she were here with me – preferably wearing the red swimsuit she’d bought last summer.
The sight of her ass in that suit was enough to bring me to my knees, just so I could worship every inch of her delectable curves.
I’d been sorely tempted to have a pool installed in our backyard just so she’d have more opportunities to wear it.
Shit!
I sat up suddenly, startling Mitch into silence.
“I never let Mel know we got here safely,” I mumbled half under my breath as I reached for my phone.
Mitch laughed derisively and shook his head. “Wow, I knew she kept you on a tight leash, but I didn’t realize it stretched all the way from Indy to Vegas.”
I swung my head to glare at him.
“Very funny, asshole. She doesn’t keep me on a leash, and you damned well know it. I’m just being considerate, which is why I’m still married to the love of my life and you’re looking for the next Mrs. Baylor.”
Mitch threw up his hands defensively. “Fuck that noise, dude. No way am I walking down the aisle again. Life’s too short to be stuck with one woman when there’s an all-you-can-fuck buffet of ‘em.” He smirked as he gestured to the various women in and around the pool.
“That’s where you’re wrong, my friend,” I retorted as I tapped my phone screen and brought up Mel’s contact number, noting the two missed calls. “Life is fucking fantastic when you find the right woman, and believe me, Melanie is the one.”
I hovered over the “connect call” button, then thought better of it and switched over to our text chain. I didn’t want to give Mitch any more ammunition to ride me about. I loved the guy, but he could be a real ass sometimes.
She had texted me hours ago, along with the two missed calls, likely when we were literally running to the gate to make our flight.
Melanie: Let me know when you’ve landed.
Me: We just got to the hotel. I’ll call you later. Love you!
I kept it short and sweet, so Mitch wouldn’t start shit-talking again.
He was incredibly jaded about relationships, but after two disastrous marriages which had resulted in two acrimonious divorces, and then way too many girlfriends to count since then, I guess I couldn’t really blame him.
Still, it pissed me off when he complained about my wife, who was absolutely nothing like the crazy women he’d been stuck with.
Thankfully, he usually knew when he’d pushed his luck with me and had the good sense to back off when I’d reached my limit.
One of the waiters came by then, and we ordered another round.
I put my phone down, adjusted my sunglasses, and leaned back in my chair to soak in the sun, leaving Mitch to scope out his next target.
His running commentary on the women and various celebrities blended into the background as I relaxed and let the warm breeze and the smell of coconut sunscreen envelop me.
A couple of hours later, I’d had enough sun, so I slipped my T-shirt back on and left Mitch poolside to flirt with yet another woman while I headed back to the suite to shower and change.
I came out of my bedroom just as Mitch opened the door to the suite and walked in, followed by two women wearing barely-there bikinis and skimpy swimsuit cover-ups that did very little to actually cover anything up.