With food in her belly, the conversation seemed easier, less dangerous, and she let herself fall deeper into the fantasy. Let herself pretend she'd achieved all her unlikely goals. "I work as a nurse to help support myself and the kids I take in, but also to take care of any of them who might need it. Not all kids in foster care are healthy. I wanted to be able to help the kids no one else could care for, the kids who need help the most."
"I imagine some of the worst wounds you see are psychological."
"Got my psych degree, too." Because why the hell not? If she was going to pretend she was a foster parent superhero, she might as well go big. "I take several classes a year to make sure I know how to help all the kids, especially the most troubled."
"You must be incredibly busy," he said. "I appreciate you taking the time to have dinner with me."
"I love being a foster parent, but it's draining. It's nicer than I can say to get away from it all for a bit."
"And the girl who ran away," he said. "Did you find her?"
Bri nodded, feeling a bit cold, remembering a time that Addy, only three years old, had run away into the desert determined to find her mother. Bri and Maureen had searched for hours before they'd found her, safe. "Her mother abandoned her when she was a baby. She hasn't seen her since, but she swears she can remember her, and she's convinced herself she'd be happier with her. She ran away to try to find her."
"That must be hard for her," he said, true compassion in his gaze, like he felt the truth in her story. "And for you."
Her throat tight, she swallowed. "It's hard to see her unhappy and not be able to fix it." Harder still when that mother shows up and takes her three-year-old child out for a day of fun, letting her do whatever she wants, before disappearing again. Addy thought her mother was some sort of saint, and to say anything to discourage that belief would be as hurtful as allowing her to live with that delusion. Most of the time, Addy was sweet and well-adjusted, but she missed her mother, missed her father. It made Bri feel inadequate, less than, but she and Maureen had been all Addy had for a long time, so they'd stuck together. They'd stuck together and Bri had sworn she'd never leave Addy the way Addy's mother had, she'd never abandon her.
Seeming to sense Bri's sadness, Jude talked some more about his job as a hiking guide and told her stories about crazy tourists and the dangers and beauty of the desert. She told him more about her foster kids, building her dream up higher and bigger and more unattainable.
They had dessert and laughed as they shared made-up stories of mishaps in their pretend lives. Despite her best intentions, Bri felt, as she walked out of that restaurant by his side, that she knew Jude better, that she liked him more than she ever had, that her heart was in even greater danger.
CHAPTER TEN
Brianne didn't say a word after they left the restaurant. Jude felt her silence like an exclamation point on their empty conversation at dinner. She wasn't ready to open up to him, he got it, but hell if it made it any easier for him not to want more from her. He didn't question his plan, though. Because of course he'd started planning as soon as he saw her again. As he'd gotten to know her, to know the truth about their shared past, that plan had gotten a bit out of hand. It had gone from being a plan to kill whatever residual feelings he had for her to a plan to convince her to fall in love with him and never leave him again. It was an ambitious plan, possibly his most ambitious plan, but he wasn't about to waste time worrying. That was the path of quitters and dreamers who never realized the good thing they already had. When Jude made a plan he stuck to it, until there was an overwhelming amount of evidence that it was no longer feasible. When that plan was to be the only casino to offer a buffet with an entire whole food plant-based menu, though, it felt a lot less risky than putting himself and his heart on the line for Brianne.
He studied her profile in the lights from the strip, her silent, thoughtful study of the street, and wondered if the woman he'd known, the fun-loving, energetic, kind woman, had been beaten down so much by life that she'd forgotten how to let herself go, how to give in to a risk. Not taking chances was his MO, never hers.
He breathed in a deep breath and did something he'd never done before. He decided to focus on making this Vegas experience with Brianne a great one, to make her smile as much as possible, to watch her let go and have fun. He would put aside concerns about his heart and his future, stop thinking about the plan, and devote himself to giving her an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime experience.
He couldn't help wondering if her story of a home for foster kids might have a seed of truth to it. He couldn't help wondering why she'd been eating peanut butter. He wondered if her mother was still sick or if she'd recovered. He wondered . . .
"We're going to a casino?" Brianne asked as Philip pulled up in front of the Hard Rock Casino and parked.
Nerves made his mind blank and his chest go tight, like her reaction mattered more than any of his successes, more than his casino or his control. "I thought you might like to see more of Vegas, and the Hard Rock Casino's a great place to start. If you'd rather go home, I'll ask Philip to take us there now."
She hesitated only a moment. "I'd love to see the casino." She glanced at the white facade they were parked in front of. "Wait. Aren't they having some big memorabilia thing going on here now? I think I heard they've got stuff from Aerosmith and Metallica and Taylor Swift, right?"
He grinned, his plan playing out perfectly, and relaxed. "Still have an eclectic taste in music?"
She shrugged, her smile going from sedate to goofy in a millisecond. "It depends on my mood." She bounced in her seat a bit. "Can we see the exhibit?"
"We can do whatever you want." Brianne had never been known to turn her nose up at any genre of music or opportunity to see someone play. She'd once told him she had no musical ability of her own, not even very much rhythm, and what musicians did fascinated her even more as a result. He couldn't wait to see her reaction when he dropped his next surprise on her.
"Great," she said. "That would be . . ." Her phone chimed and she pulled it out of her purse, her lips tightening. "Before we go in, would you mind if I made a quick phone call?"
"Of course. Go ahead."
"It won't take long," she said, but she didn't dial or even look at her phone, she chewed on her lip staring at him as though trying to figure out how to say something.
"Oh, right," he said. Obviously, she wanted privacy for her call. That was to be expected. He was the idiot who wanted to know more about her life, wanted to know who she had to call so much that she set a timer on her beat-up, outdated phone. He hadn't earned the answers to any of those questions, though, so he got out of the car and shut the door behind him.
He paced in front of the casino and tried not to hate that he couldn't force her to open up and trust him. This was why he avoided dating or messy emotions, because he couldn't control people and he sure as hell didn't seem to be able to control his own emotions, this need to know why she was so desperate for money, to know who she had to call so urgently. Someone she owed money? Someone who wanted to hurt her for said money? How could he fix it if he didn't know what it was?
"Ready to go?"
He stopped and looked up to see Brianne standing before him, an easy, excited smile on her face. She didn't look like a woman who'd just been talking to a man who'd threatened to break her kneecaps if she didn't pay up.
He pushed down the nearly overwhelming need to ask her to tell him everything and forced a smile. "Let's go." As he walked by her, he reached for her hand, a need he couldn't fight when he was already fighting so hard for control of his other wants. To his great relief, she accepted his hand and laced her small fingers between his. Tension fled his body as they walked, hand-in-hand, into the casino.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Brianne turned to look at Jude, her mouth falling open in disbelief. How could he look so calm, so relaxed when her favorite band of all time had just stepped onto the stage.
"Oh, my god, Jude. A
re you serious?"
A smile tickled his lips, but he said nothing as he led her farther and farther down the stadium-style seating to a row only three back from the stage. She felt like her heart might burst from her chest, and she wanted to kiss him for being so wonderful, at the same time that she wanted to punch him for the exact same reason. Clearly, she was a mess.
She followed him down the row, apologizing to the people they stepped over as they passed, and sat almost directly in the center, in a direct line with Steven Tyler. Aerosmith. Seriously. After the most amazing dinner and an evening spent looking at rock and roll memorabilia, during which Jude had listened patiently as she gabbed on and on about the clothes and the shoes and the musical instruments, never once asking her to hurry, even adding in his own comments and revealing an abiding love for the music of Mumford and Sons, which she never would have guessed. After all that, Jude had brought her to an Aerosmith concert. To the third row, center, of an Aerosmith concert.
He leaned in as Steven Tyler crooned about love and Bri turned her head, ready to kiss the man. And not just to thank him for the most amazing evening, but because she'd been holding his hand, breathing in the scent of him, watching him move and she was wound tighter than Joey Kramer's drumkit.
Jude didn't kiss her, though. He bent toward her ear. "Sorry I couldn't get you front row seats," he said, his breath tickling her skin.
She couldn't help herself then, she pressed her lips to his. She tasted his soft lips and then she pulled away to shout in his ear. "This is perfect, thank you."
And then she got to her feet and danced to the music, because as much as she'd like to kiss Jude about a million more times, she wasn't going to miss another moment of the show.
Together, they danced and sang along to favorite songs. Bri felt like she was flying, with Jude next to her, her favorite band in front of her. Not much could ever come close to topping that moment, until Jude whispered in her ear that he had backstage passes.
Her whole body shook at that news and nerves overtook her, combined with over-the-moon excitement so intense she held on tighter to Jude until the giddy head rush and the feeling that she might faint had passed.
Jude waited until the crowds around them had thinned out and then led her down the stairs and behind the stage. She'd been expecting the sort of backstage access she'd seen in movies, where they could hang out in the band's dressing room and have a few beers with them. Instead, the band members were all seated behind a table, signing autographs for a long line of people who'd also paid for backstage passes.
In line, Jude pulled her back around to his front, wrapping her up tight again. She leaned against him and sighed. It felt so good to be held, almost better than the anticipation of speaking to the members of her all-time favorite band. She dropped her head against his hard chest and relaxed. There was no pressure. She'd be one more in a line of people asking for an autograph. She'd barely need to speak at all. She could just relax.
As soon as she'd convinced herself of that fact, her eyelids drooped and a yawn overtook her.
"Did you enjoy the show?" Jude asked, a whisper against her ear. Around them people chatted energetically, but it felt like she and Jude were on their own personal island.
She twisted just enough for her low voice to reach him. "It was amazing, Jude. One of the best nights of my entire life. Thank you."
He smiled softly down at her, the warmth in his eyes lovely and disconcerting. "I'm happy you had a good time."
She yawned again. A large, likely unattractive, yawn. His smile widened. "Tired?"
"Exhausted."
He glanced at his watch. "It's after one in the morning. Why don't we get a room and stay here?"
God, that sounded good. Cozy and easy and sexy. Jude wrapped around her all night sounded like the perfect way to end this perfect day, and that scared her. How could she already feel so much for him?
He must have seen it on her face. "We can get a suite. You'll have your own bed. But you should have the full Vegas experience and sleep in a casino, at least one night."
"Not sure how much I'll experience with my eyes closed," she said, teasing and deflecting.
"I can take you home. Philip is no longer available to drive us, but we can easily get a taxi."
She pressed a finger to his lips. He was so damn adorable. "No. I'd love to stay here, but we don't need a suite, Jude. We can--" She remembered way too late that she wasn't living in a fairy tale. "Actually, no. I would like to go home. There's no point wasting money on a room when we'll only be sleeping. I'm so exhausted and we both have to be at work in the morning."
"Actually, you'd be doing me a favor," he said. "I know the owner and he's been asking for my input on his casino for a while. The room won't cost me anything."
"It's really part of my job, then? I need to stay to help you evaluate the room?"
She had to turn away from him to resist kissing his grinning lips. "Exactly."
She settled back against him, not daring to face him when just his lips curving upward could make her so badly want to kiss him. The line ahead of them moved slowly, but she couldn't complain. If she were at the front of the line, she'd want to spend as long as possible within touching distance of the band, too.
Another big yawn overtook her, and Jude tightened his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulders. He must have had to really scrunch down to stand with her that way, but it felt so nice and cozy. Exhaustion weakened her defenses and she laced her fingers through his where they rested on her stomach.
"Gonna make it?" he asked, his voice husky and low.
"Heck yeah. I'm not missing this."
Eventually, they got to the front of the line. Jude bought two t-shirts so fast she didn't have a chance to argue about the ridiculous expense. Forty dollars for a t-shirt? Outrageous.
Still, she took the t-shirt when he handed it to her and managed not to keel over from nerves when she met each of the band members. She even managed to exchange pleasantries with them without garbling her words. Unfortunately, pleasantries were the extent of her abilities. Awe froze her tongue and she didn't manage to tell them that she was their all-time biggest fan or how much she'd loved the show.
Too soon, she was walking back toward the arena, her hand in Jude's. "They were so nice and down to earth," she said as they walked.
"You could tell that from a few minutes of hellos and how are yous?"
"I could." She ignored the sarcasm and amusement in his voice. "They are the exception to the rule about arrogant, snobby rock gods."
He dropped her hand and pulled her close, an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sure they are."
Back in the lobby, he left her alone long enough to talk to the person at the front desk. Bri had almost walked over with him, but he'd pointed out a display she'd missed on the way in. She suspected he was distracting her from whatever negotiation he had going on with the older gentleman at the check-in desk, but she wanted to see the display of Sheryl Crow's clothes and guitar more than she wanted to find out what he was up to.
She was leaning against the wall with one shoulder, trying to make out the words on the information plaques between yawns, when Jude sidled up next to her and pulled her tight to his side. "Let's get you to bed before you fall over."
She leaned against him, and walked with him toward the front of the casino. "Are we leaving?"
"No." He swung them to the left and through doors that led to an ornately decorated hall. "Our room is in this part of the casino."
"Oh, right," she said. "The casino trick of hiding access to the rooms so that people will gamble longer."
"Those of us in the casino business prefer the term marketing to casino trick."
She snuggled closer to him as they got into an elevator and rode up to the . . . She might have fallen asleep for a minute, because next thing she knew, Jude was carrying her down a hallway and letting them into a dim room. After that, it was all warm blankets and a soft mattress.
He eased her shoes off, and pulled her dress over her head, but tucked her into bed with her bra and panties on. When he stood to go, she reached for him. "Are you coming back?"
"I have my own bed," he said.
"Oh." She fought against sleep. "The bed's a bit cold. Maybe you could stay with me and keep me warm."
He grunted something she couldn't make out since she was already half asleep and, moments later, she felt him slide into bed behind her, his warm arms tight around her.
#
Sunlight warmed Bri's lids and she sucked in a gasp of panic. Slaloming sloths. She had to get to work. She tried to sit up, but something warm and solid held her down.
Memories flooded in, and she remembered it was Jude wrapped around her. "We're going to be late for work," she said in a low whisper. He needed to get up, but she didn't want to screech at him like an obnoxious alarm clock, and she couldn't turn to look at him, because his arm was freaking heavy.
"Good thing I'm the boss," he said in an equally low voice, a smile in his tone.
"But you have three meetings this morning." She fought the urge to relax into the decadence his voice offered.
"I rescheduled them. You were so exhausted last night, I didn't want to make you get up too early."
She pushed against his arm and he lifted it enough for her to roll over and face him. Not that she knew how to respond to him putting her before business. She hadn't expected that from him, and she knew it meant something huge. "I'm awake now. We should probably get up and go to work."
His hand found a landing place on her bare hip, the warmth of his palm igniting a fire in her core. "Is that what you want?"
If she said the word, he'd get up and they'd go to work. She knew that to her core. Despite his power and her vulnerability, he'd never force or manipulate her into something she didn't want to do. "I don't want to do anything to damage your business," she said. "I understand there are people counting on you."
How to Lasso a Billionaire Page 16
