Time to push her even further out of colleague mode. She’d see the kiss as a lapse and was now trying to backpedal to familiar ground. He couldn’t let that happen.
He tilted the breadbasket toward her. “Have some more bread and tell me something about you that I don’t know.”
Appearing discomfited, she stuffed a nugget of bread into her mouth. She chewed for a moment before she spoke. “I have a dog named Hugo. He’s a basset hound, and I think he needs Prozac because he has these big, sad eyes and constantly looks as if the world is ending. He sighs like a disappointed grandmother, too.”
Okay, he hadn’t expected that one. Snorting, he leaned back in his chair. “How did you end up with a depressed hound?”
“I went to the pound looking for a perky terrier and ended up with Hugo.” Rueful affection filled her voice. She plucked up another piece of bread and waved it through the air. “He was a dead dog walking, and I couldn’t leave him there to get the needle. He’s a pain in the ass, but I love him.”
“Sounds like my cat.” He gave a low laugh.
Disbelief filled her gray gaze. “You have a kitty?”
“An enormous, mean tomcat. No one would call this beast a kitty.” He had the claw marks up and down his arms to prove it every time he tried to give the tom a bath. The groomers refused to touch him anymore. “I inherited him when my mom died because he hates my dad. Seriously, he attacks on sight.”
“Ouch.” She arched her eyebrows. “What’s this terror’s name?”
“George.”
“There was an evil King George in England. George III ruled during the American Revolution. Okay, the U.S. regards him as a tyrant, but I doubt he liked us much, either.” She shook her head. “Sorry, history nerd tangent. I hope I never meet the evil cat.”
“My George would love you,” Finn protested.
“How do you know that? He doesn’t love your dad.”
“Because he’d be dead meat if he attacked you, and George is a master at self-preservation. Mom and Dad let him get away with it. I wouldn’t.” Because he wanted Meg visiting his house. Often. The cat would have to get used to it or he’d be locked outside more often than he liked. In the rain.
The waiter arrived with their meal, and there was a moment of reverent silence as they took the first bite.
“Mmm.” Meg moaned, an expression of utter ecstasy molding her features. She shut her eyes, her tongue sliding out in a slow, sensual sweep to lick her lips.
Finn’s cock stiffened at the look on her face, reminding him that he hadn’t gotten to finish what they’d started in his room. Jesus, what he wouldn’t give to see her wearing that exact expression in his bed.
She glanced at him and froze, no doubt noticing his hunger now had little to do with food.
He let a small smile kick up the corner of his mouth. “You’re amazingly beautiful, Meg. I’ve never gotten hard watching a woman eat before.”
A flush washed up her cheeks, heated awareness flashing in her eyes. Her gaze dropped as if she might see his erection through the table, but he was grateful for the cover. It was one thing to want her—another to embarrass himself in public.
“I…I don’t know what to say. What happened upstairs was—”
“Not something we need to discuss over lunch.” The last thing he wanted was to hear her tell him about it being a mistake. He took a gulp of iced tea, hoping it would cool him down. “Enjoy your sandwich, Meg. Don’t mind me if I enjoy you enjoying it.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Pervert.”
“You’re welcome.” He toasted her with his glass, and then turned his attention to his food.
The sexual tension hanging over the table eased after a few minutes, and he let out a breath. His salmon was delicious, and the cactus pear iced tea was pretty spectacular.
Meg stirred when she’d finished her sandwich and was working her way through her fries. “I’m dragging Anne over to watch the Bellagio fountains tonight, and I might make her ride up the Eiffel Tower in the Paris. It’s fake historical stuff, but whatever. She owes me and I’m making her pay up.”
Finn noted that he wasn’t invited, which annoyed him more than it should. “You know, there are things to do in Vegas that you’d really like, but you have to go off the Strip.”
“There’s more to Vegas than the Strip?” She widened her eyes. “What’s this craziness you speak?”
“I know it’s shocking, but you can handle it.” He grinned. “Did I mention I’m originally from Nevada?”
She blinked in surprise, curiosity sparking in her gaze. “No, you didn’t. You gave up Sin City to come to Half Moon Bay?”
Ah, she wanted to know more about him. A very good sign. The more she knew about him, the less she could relegate him to the impersonal coworker category. At least, that was what he was hoping. “Tahoe, actually, though my dad retired to Vegas after Mom passed.”
“I’m so sorry.” She moved as if to reach for his hand, but stopped herself, and pulled back before she made contact. “I still have both my parents, thankfully.”
“Definitely something to appreciate. We lost Mom about five years ago, so I’ve had some time to cope.” Though there were still moments of grief that caught him by surprise. He’d had one the other day when he’d called his dad to tell him he’d be in town, only to have a woman answer the phone. It had been an awkward as hell way to find out his father was dating again. He squashed that thought and focused on Meg. “Anyway, there’s an exhibit I was hoping to talk you into checking out with me. Off-Strip.”
“What exhibit?” She dipped a French fry in ketchup and popped it into her mouth.
“One that combines both our loves. UNLV has a space for traveling exhibits and there’s one right now on the history of the modern Olympic Games. You love history and I love athletics.” He shrugged as casually as possible. “We can see if anyone else wants to come, of course.”
None of their colleagues would be willing to forgo the pleasures of the Strip, he was sure. Anne was the only exception. She knew the score, so there was no telling what she might do—help him out or hinder him just for fun.
He watched Meg’s desire to check out the exhibit war with her seemingly ingrained wariness. The history lover in her won out, as he’d hoped it would. “Okay, we’ll ask everyone. It sounds interesting.”
And he’d just scored a point in their game of hearts, whether she knew they were playing or not.
Chapter Three
Meg followed Anne into their room, shut the door behind them, and collapsed against it. She let a relieved breath ease out. Surviving that much time alone with Finn had taken Olympian effort. Then she remembered she’d agreed to go to an Olympic exhibit with him. Damn. Well, Anne would just have to come along and play cockblocker, because Meg didn’t know how much longer her resistance could hold out. Not that she’d had much resistance in his room. If he hadn’t stopped, they would have had sex. She’d been ruled by lust instead of logic, and that wasn’t normal for her at all.
Not good.
“Uh-oh.” Anne bounced onto one of the double beds, but came up onto her elbows to stare at Meg. “That’s a bad look. What’s wrong?”
She pinched her eyes shut, not wanting to meet her friend’s gaze when she confessed the truth, but she had to talk to someone about this. She was going to drive herself crazy if she let her thoughts chase themselves in circles. “I dry-humped Finn against his hotel room door.”
“Wow, that boy works fast,” Anne replied, sounding almost impressed.
“What am I going to do?” Meg looked at the other woman, hating the desperate note in her tone. “What was I thinking?”
“It sounds like you weren’t thinking, but that maybe you want to do him.” She grinned puckishly, shrugging. “I’m just guessing here.”
“No,” Meg snapped. “I have rules.”
“Rules are made to be broken.”
“Not my rules!” Meg shoved a hand through her hair. “You saw wha
t happened when Brandon and Regina dated. It was perfect until it wasn’t and the next thing you know the police are getting called, there are restraining orders, lives blow up, and two people don’t have jobs anymore.” Brandon had been a friend, and she’d been there when he’d poured gasoline on his life and lit it on fire. Ugly didn’t even begin to describe it. And when she thought about her secret role in the whole mess, the guilt was almost enough to eat her alive. She shuddered, her stomach jolting. “Was it worth it? I don’t think so. I’m not doing that, Anne. I am not.”
The redhead was quiet for a very long moment, her gaze assessing. She probably saw far more than Meg would be comfortable with. “Okay. So don’t date him, just fuck him.”
“What?” Staggering, Meg flopped onto the bed nearest the door. “You have to be kidding me. What kind of advice is that?”
Anne sat up and propped her elbows on her knees. “Hey, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, baby.”
Meg made a derisive sound, though her hormones jangled with a sharp disagreement. They were more than happy to take any excuse to get some play. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe, but it’d get you laid. Been a while, hasn’t it?”
There wasn’t a single response she could make to that one.
Anne smirked. “That’s what I thought.”
“Maybe he’s not as interested as you think,” Meg fired back, though she thought lightning might strike her for the lie. “He’s the one who stopped it, not me. I should have, but he did.”
She still didn’t know what to make of that. He’d been aroused, but he hadn’t taken the opportunity when he’d had it. Was it really because he wanted her totally on board before sleeping with her? She didn’t know many men who wouldn’t have taken advantage. It was…kind. Kinder than she deserved, considering she’d had her tongue down his throat.
“Did he, now?” Anne grinned. “He’s smarter than he looks.”
Narrowing her gaze, Meg folded her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I stand by my suggestion—enjoy the responsibility-free Vegas experience. Ride that man like he’s your personal pony.”
Another cheer from her hormones. The thought of riding Finn made her heart skip a beat. She didn’t want to want a man she worked with. Not again. But she did. It was foolish and she had to keep denying herself. Clearly, letting herself be alone with him was a bad idea, so she needed to make sure that didn’t happen again. Even if it meant going off on her own or hanging out with the booze crew.
“We’re going to an exhibit tomorrow on the history of the Olympics.” Meg leveled her gaze on Anne. “And by we, I mean you, me, Finn, and any of the others we can round up. You owe me for making me come on this trip. You are not leaving me to deal with Finn by myself.”
Her friend pursed her lips. “I get why you’re hesitant to get involved in any way with a coworker, but you’re never going to get him out of your system unless you try him on for size. This week is your opportunity. No strings attached.”
Trying him on for size sounded far too tempting. No strings attached sounded even better. She shook her head, denying herself, denying the free pass Anne offered. Brandon had thought he could get involved with another teacher and come out of it unscathed, but he’d been wrong, hadn’t he?
She should learn from his mistakes. And her own.
Anne continued her persuasion campaign. “Look, you’re cautious by nature, I know that. Your parents’ heinous divorce only made you more cautious around men. Are you sure you’re not letting their problems influence you too much? Because this is a totally different thing. You don’t have to commit to more than sex.”
Heinous didn’t even begin to describe her parents’ breakup, but Anne was right about their example making Meg cautious with commitment. She’d learned from their mistakes too.
“When do we meet everyone for dinner?” Meg set her jaw and went to unpack her suitcase. She ignored Anne’s long-suffering sigh at the deliberate change of topic.
“Not until seven. You have some time.”
“Good, I’m going to do a little window shopping at the fancy mall thing they have in the hotel.” She unloaded her toiletries onto the counter in the bathroom. “Maybe I’ll get lucky, hit a sale, and replace the clothes Carla and Ed annihilated today.”
Anne bounced to her feet. “Great, I’ll come with you.”
Dinner was riotous. Luckily, Vegas waiters knew how to handle drunken loudmouths.
Meg shook her head. When Carla swung her wineglass a little too close, Meg grabbed her wrist. “Be careful. If you ruin another outfit, I’m going to send you a bill.”
The group whooped with laughter as if that were the funniest thing they’d ever heard. Meg rolled her eyes and sipped her mojito—her first drink of the day, which she definitely couldn’t say for the six stooges. Roger seemed semi-sober, but Frank was listing to one side. Any second now, he was going to be lying against Finn’s shoulder. Finn cast a rueful glance at Frank, then met Meg’s gaze, winked and shrugged. Somehow their colleagues had reverted to college co-eds.
Finn tipped his beer to his lips and took a deep swig. She watched his strong throat work, and she wanted to slide her tongue up his neck to his ear, maybe bite down on the lobe a little. She was usually better at resisting those kinds of thoughts, but Anne’s words about using this week as a chance for a no-strings fling kept coming back to her. Could she really do that? She, Meg Phillips, have an affair that she knew would be short-term? She’d never tried it before, never even considered it.
One thing was certain—her libido really hoped she’d go for it.
She wished she wasn’t so attracted to him, wished if she were this drawn to a man that he wasn’t a colleague, but she’d been wishing that for a year and it hadn’t done her a bit of good. So she could take Anne’s advice and do something about it, or she could continue to make wishes that would never come true. She didn’t want to date another teacher, but this wouldn’t be dating, would it? It wouldn’t be a relationship. It wouldn’t even be a potential relationship. It would just be sex.
She shook her head at herself, at her justifications. She knew it was a bad idea, but she still sought an excuse to do what she wanted. Was that so terrible? Maybe, maybe not. Until she was sure, she couldn’t make a decision.
The servers stuck with the loud and rowdy party came bearing food, which caused a cheer to go up from the table. Meg laughed. She had to see the humor in the enthusiasm with which her fellow teachers unwound from work. They’d worked hard, and they wanted to play hard. It wasn’t her style, but she couldn’t hold it against them. As long as they kept their cocktails away from her clothes.
Her burger and fries were pretty good, and she relaxed as everyone talked about all the things they intended to do for the week. Drinking and gambling all around, the championship fight for Anne, Roger, Frank, and Ed, shopping for the girls, and Frank was also on a mission to try every roller coaster or ride on the Strip, starting with the one at New York, New York.
“Meg, Anne.” Leaning forward, Carla projected her voice enough that the entire restaurant got to eavesdrop. She motioned to Cindy and Doreen. “We’re hitting a strip club tonight. You ladies want to come? Naked hot guys, woohoo!”
Anne shook her head. “I have a date tonight. I’m meeting the shuttle driver for drinks at nine.”
“I’m bowing out, too.” Meg smiled. “You girls have fun. Don’t post any evidence on Facebook!”
That had them all giggling, and the guys made a few ribald jokes. Meg was glad they didn’t press. Some stranger rubbing his junk in her face was not her idea of fun. She could only be glad if anyone was taking advantage of the local brothels, they didn’t say it out loud. There’d be no bleaching away that mental image.
Anne’s phone trilled out a ring, and she leaned sideways against Meg to fish it out of her back pocket. She answered and stuck her finger in her other ear to block out the noise of the restaurant. “Hello!”
/>
Meg felt her friend go rigid. Anne slid out of her seat to pace in front of the table as she listened. Fear contorted her features, and when she spoke, it was slowly and distinctly. “Calm down, Mom. Tell me what happened to Cami.”
“Cami?” Meg whispered, and she couldn’t keep the worry out of her voice. Cami was Anne’s sixteen-year-old sister, the baby of the family. Meg had done her fair share of babysitting Anne’s three younger sisters, so hearing the girl’s name made her stomach twist into knots.
Anne leaned forward and braced her hand on the table, her face pale. “Is the doctor there? Let me talk to them. Now, Mom.”
There was silence for a long moment while she listened, and Meg gripped the edge of her seat, tension ratcheting up inside her.
“Thank you, Doctor. No, I’m not staying here to wait for updates. I’ll hop on the next flight home. Try to keep my mother calm until I get there. Shoot her up with Valium if you need to.”
She tapped a button, and stood there for a moment, a slight tremor running through her.
Finn stood and grabbed her by the shoulders to keep her upright. His blue eyes darkened. “What happened to your sister? How can we help?” He shook her a little. “Breathe, Anne.”
Sucking in a lungful of air, Anne squeezed a few sentences out. “She was in a car accident. The doctor says it’s minor—she needed five stitches, has a concussion and they’re keeping her overnight for observation. But my mom is freaking out and I need to be there. The girls depend on me to be the responsible one.”
Truer words had never been spoken. Anne had basically raised her younger sisters because her flighty mother couldn’t be counted on to remember to sign permission slips, send lunch money, or get the girls on the bus to school every day. If something went wrong, they turned to Anne.
Meg grabbed her purse and rose. “All right, let’s get our things together and get home as quickly as possible.”
“Yes.” Anne nodded, some color seeping back into her cheeks. “Okay, let’s do that. Wait, just me. You said our.”
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