I respected his drive to get somewhere, even if it was into my pants only in the figurative sense. Pity the literal sense wasn’t on the table, huh? Getting screwed would have been preferable to only getting fucked in my book.
Have I mentioned yet that I have no shame, and that I like Seri enough not to care that she doesn’t want to be my friend?
“Okay, let’s go then. What’s the writing on the cards for me this week?”
I ask because I want to know if I’m going to have to do a deep search for my BOB or if Mr. Jacobs may just scratch that itch for me sometime soon. I’m no sex maniac here, trust me, but I haven’t done it in long enough that I would not cut off my nose to spite my vagina and not appreciate his ass in my bed.
Plus, I need to know if seduction is even possible since I don’t go in for trying to seduce men only to get shot down on the second attempt. I may not have all that much shame, but I have feelings.
“Argh! You’re a pain my ass, Rosie, you know that? Fine. Hmmmm.”
I hear slurping, some throat clearing and hacking and the flick of a lighter again before she breathes deeply and starts ohming her way into a vision.
This is my favorite part, hearing her, anticipating what she’ll say. Once, Seri told me I was going to hit the jackpot. I sure was skeptical about that one since gambling is a no-no for me. What? I’m a native. We don’t usually go for that crap unless we come from a broken home, are alcoholics, or transplanted here.
Vegas natives do not gamble. It’s a code we have only to fleece tourists and the weak of will.
Anyway, I was skeptical, a new feeling for me since I basically believe in anything that’s unexplainable. Know what happened? Some jerk cut me off one night when we had some bad weather, and I drove straight into a sign on the side of the road.
Guess what it said.
Jackpot!
Yes, I kid you not. That story, that one event, restored my faith in the psychic community because I was ebbing fast when I failed to meet a tall, dark, and handsome man who wanted to sweep me off of my feet. That disappointment was crushing, let me tell you.
“Holy shit, Rosie, what is happening with you lately?” Seri gasps, causing me to sit up straight and clutch at the pillow over my chest.
“What? Why? What did you see?” I demand breathlessly.
“There’s something not right here. Wait, let me take another look. Dammit, the same. Honey, I see a dark cloud, a black cloud that is coming your way.”
Rain? Maybe the weather channel was wrong and we’ll get a few drops this summer after all, I think ruefully, rolling my eyes.
“That isn’t very helpful, Seri. I’m kinda looking for a love reading if you want the truth.”
“Well, too damn bad for you, all I’m getting is this cloud and….hmmm, wait, I’m getting something else. Hmmm. Nope, sorry it’s gone,” she sighs, sucking on her cigarette as if she didn’t just kill my flow.
“Try! I need something here. Please. I just met someone, and I need to know if it’s going anywhere.”
Snort, snort, snort. At this rate, I could win gold at the Druggies for the Olympics rally. Going somewhere? And why would it, Rosie? You live in Vegas, and this guy is a super soldier who lives…somewhere that is not Vegas. What are you going to do, fall in love and follow him anywhere he goes? I chide, throwing an internal eye roll in to the mix just to give myself more of a hard time.
I like Lex, I do, but a few things about me are never going to change. I won’t leave Vegas. Nana is scattered here, somewhere, I can’t quite remember where because Frankie and I were drunk off our asses when we went to scatter her ashes, but she’s here.
So is my work, my house, and the only life I have ever known. And besides, what the heck is going on in my brain? One hot shiver for a man who is basically a stranger, and I’m thinking about relationships and other commitment-based things I have no place thinking about.
Crap, I must be about to start my period if I’m this irrational.
“I got nothing, so you’re going to have to just suck it up and find that out for yourself.”
“But I wanted to know if I should make a play. He’s somewhat resistant to the idea of our getting together you see, and I get that. I mean, we…work together in a fashion, and you know how dangerous work relationships can be.”
“Yeah. Like that time I was doing Larry, one of my clients. That did not end well, trust me.” She laughs, making me smirk.
“A client? Didn’t you see what would happen if you slept with him?”
“Honey, all I knew was the man was hot in my mind, and I was on a two-year dry spell. I was not about to pass that up just to keep a job that pays me three dollars an hour.”
Huh. See, I was really under the impression that a psychic would have a much better life. I mean, she can see the freaking future and stuff.
“Whatever, listen, just try for me, okay? I really like this one, and I want to know what’s coming.”
Like whether or not I’ll live to have a hot and steamy romance with Lex Jacobs, the one thing I’m suddenly so needy for it takes my breath away. I’ve never wanted anything this badly before, not even those fake Elvis glasses Lon got for his birthday from Rod.
Gosh, those were nice. Too bad for me. Fat Elvis wore them in the later stages, and I’m the skinny version that just started out. Stupid body. Maybe I should pick up some weight and go the way of fat Elvis, I think, biting into my nail.
I mean…maybe my boobs would stay small—
“They won’t,” Seri laughs, making me stop and picture a pile of dog poop just to see if she can really read my mind.
“That’s disgusting. And no, your boobs will not stay small. Get fat and you’ll get fired. Now, about that pizza.”
Chapter Six
Lex
I walk into Sparrow’s little house hours later, my temper frayed and volatile as unanswered questions plague me. I’ve spent the last few hours with Gino, watching security footage that was as boring as watching paint dry, and I have nothing to show for it but a slight amusement about Sparrow and her job.
Graceland is a wonderful, opulent, completely unique casino. I see why Gio and his son are raking in the big bucks, but the place has a shitty security system as far as footage goes, and I told him so.
Besides that, I did not see one instance of suspicious activity around Sparrow, unless you count the fact that she isn’t fazed by old ladies getting handsy with her.
Oh, and the bulge I had to stare at in that white, rhinestone-studded getup of hers…. If I hadn’t seen her first, I would never have known that thin Elvis is Sparrow, a woman, for Christ’s sake!
So, this is where I’m at currently. I have no leads, no footage, and no new information that could tell me why exactly some idiot is targeting her specifically. From what I’ve gleaned, Sparrow is a regular, if slightly quirky, woman.
She works five days a week at the casino and takes some sort of plant class or something. I still don’t quite get what she’s studying, and she’s got a close-knit group of friends who adore her.
Her only indulgence it seems is calling a hotline for psychic readings—weird, considering she’s Catholic and goes to church every Sunday. The point is that she’s one of the very rare individuals on the planet who doesn’t seem to have skeletons in her closet. At all.
She’s lived in this house all her life, raised by her grandmother who was a showgirl well into her fifties, which is not surprising since Sparrow is hot and had to get that from somewhere. Besides, a few kids her grandmother took in as temporary foster kids while they were waiting for placement, she was an only child, abandoned by her mother, no father, and she seemed to appreciate the fact that she had at least one family member who loved her.
Gino said he’s never seen two such different people adore each other the way grandmother and granddaughter did. I like that.
She was glee club president all through junior and senior years of high school, had a reputation for being sweet as
pie, and even sang in the church choir until some old lady told her she was a little flat on her Amazing Grace.
Gino and I both laughed our asses off when the priest confessed that he had to ban her from choir after she decked the old lady, despite his glee at seeing the old biddy brought low.
But that’s it. She’s had a very small selection of boyfriends since she was eighteen, something Gino pissed himself about because Sparrow still doesn’t know that he and his dad threatened to dig holes out in the desert for any dick brave enough to mess with their girl.
I like knowing that though, knowing that she’s had one serious boyfriend and only two other casual flings. It tells me that Sparrow isn’t easy, not in any way, and that she considers others when she makes choices.
I like that. It’s rare to find a woman who actually cares about your feelings these days. Most of them are so intent on getting laid, adding that new notch to their modern-woman bedposts. Just knowing Sparrow isn’t like that makes me like her even more.
That’s it though.
There’s nothing else to look at. No parking tickets or arrests—unless you count one incident where she was pushed into a Jackpot’s Lucky Bistro signpost and lost her temper.
She’s got a little road rage, let’s just say that and be done. I really enjoyed the officer’s amusement at what she did to the dick who almost killed her.
She has no enemies, and Goddammit, why should she since she’s a gem? No really. I think Sparrow might be a one in a million kind of lady. Smart, sexy, funny, quirky. Real in her own way since I doubt anyone will ever meet such a unique individual.
She’s just…nice. Nice. Honest—
And if you keep this up, Lex, you’ll be balls deep in that little lady before you can finish her list of amazing attributes, I sneer to myself, closing my eyes against the need to hit something.
I’ve never wanted a woman more. Never. And just knowing that makes me leery to even be here. Danger lies there, and I know it, because despite what people might think—that I’m some sort of come-and-go playboy—I’m really quite deep.
I take nothing for granted, not one thing. I love my family, my friends, and I really enjoy belonging to a group of people who don’t judge me.
But I do not do ties of any kind, hence the fact that I don’t own a home, a car, or anything that could keep me in one place for long. I think the closest I have ever come to settling down was the few weeks that I spent living with Jericho and Cleo.
“Oh hey! You’re back. Lex Jacobs, meet Seri Dunston.”
I sigh when I walk into the living room and glare at Carl before looking over at a little, middle-aged woman with a silver pixie cut and eye shadow that is thick enough to make me wonder how she keeps her lids up.
Everything about this woman screams Vegas. Loud makeup, blue eyes, red lips, and a cigarette dangling from her mouth as she shuffles a deck of cards.
She smiles around her smoke and eyes me curiously when I fall into a seat and frown at them all.
“I told you no visitors.”
Sparrow shrugs as if she doesn’t have a care in the world despite my glare and skips back to her seat, smiling widely.
“Oh pooh, Lex, it’s just Seri. She’s my best friend.”
“Nope. Not happening,” the woman growls in a husky voice that suggests more than a pack a day.
“Come on! You just admitted you like me.” Sparrow laughs, making Carl roll his eyes.
“I believe her words were, ‘If I weren’t in danger of going away for ten to twenty, I’d throttle you in your sleep.’”
“See! She doesn’t want to hurt me,” Sparrow crows, making even me grin at this point.
Jesus help me, I think I may have found another quirk, and it makes it even harder to remain objective because this is me to a tee. I never quit when I want something, and I especially enjoy making people like me, no matter how much they want to hate me.
Dammit, she’s a friend stalker, too.
“I need to leave before I do something that will get me in trouble.”
“No, stay. You promised me you’d read Lex next, and I’ve been dying for it the whole afternoon. Come on. What do you see?” Sparrow coaxes, grinning at us all.
I don’t like the way she’s eyeing me or the way this Seri chick is looking at me as if she’s seeing something deeper. I squirm a little when her red mouth splits and she husks out a laugh that turns into a hacking spate.
“What’s going on?”
“Seri is a psychic! She reads people. She’s really good; you shouldn’t be afraid because she never gets it wrong. Except that one time when she told me I should try the prime rib at Stakes and Steaks. Don’t worry though, she couldn’t have really known the rib was turning and I’d get diarrhea.”
Seri looks away, her lips twitching, and I find myself laughing out loud when she raises a brow and sniffs.
“You deserved it after you told me the lung cancer statistics. Scared me to death.”
Sparrow gasps and narrows her eyes, her pout getting pronounced when she realizes she was set up.
“That was shitty.”
“Oh, I know,” Seri cackles, making both Carl and I chuckle when she waggles her brows and grins.
I think Sparrow may start swinging, but she surprises me by giggling and throwing her arms around a struggling Seri.
“Oh you! I knew you had a sense of humor. And I forgive you.”
“Dammit.”
“Now come on and stop dragging your laurels.”
“Feet,” we all yell at the same time, as Carl rises and walks for the door.
“Really? I don’t get it. Whatever. Read him, Seri, and then you can tell me what to expect for the next week.”
I don’t like the look this lady gets when she looks at me, but I sigh and lean back in my seat as she starts shuffling again and placing weird-looking cards down on the table.
The first is some sort of swordsman, I can’t really see all that well because Sparrow is basically leaning all the way over, staring wide eyed as the cards start falling thick and fast.
Carl, I see, has paused near the door, obviously curious to see what this loon starts spouting off about me. Me, I’m curious as hell, despite my actual lack of belief in this shit, but hey, if Sparrow is happy and not throwing herself at me, then I’m down.
“Oooh, what’s that mean? Is he going to win money? Is he going to meet someone? What’s that one?”
She keeps chirping as Seri frowns down at the cards before gathering them back up again and turning to me.
“You need roots. This wandering lifestyle you’ve cultivated for so long is going to leave you all alone and miserable. Oh, and tell your mom she should definitely go with the blue theme.”
Holy….
Mom’s been agonizing over the color scheme for the surprise wedding she and King are arranging to finally get Kinsley to agree to marry him. The poor schmuck has spent weeks trying to convince her to be his wife instead of just wearing his engagement ring, which Kinsley assures anyone else who’ll listen that the ring is all she wants.
It freaking tickles me that King, a man who swore he’d never get married, has to try and convince the queen of commitment, my sister, to take the plunge with him.
But back to the glowing blue eyes of the eerily staring Seri and Sparrow, who seems about to come out of her skin with delight.
“I can so totally see that he’s a wanderer Seri. Good call! Hey, what else does it say?”
Seri just smiles at me and shoves her cards in her bag, holding her hand out to Sparrow.
“Payment.”
“What? No way, we’re friends.”
“Not.”
“Are too.”
“Are not. I don’t even like you,” she spits, making Sparrow grin.
“Of course, you do! I’m cool, and you know it. Hey! I could do a free show for you if you want. I have a costume around here somewhere.”
“A female Elvis?” she snorts. “No thanks. Money.�
��
“Friendship.”
“Argh! What is wrong with you?”
“Everything. Now dammit it, you like me.”
I want to laugh as Seri yells beneath her breath and stomps toward the door.
“Dinner next week! I’m making Nana’s famous pot roast.”
“No. Invite that ugly friend of yours with the dark aura. And stop calling me for God’s sake.”
“Aw, you kidder. See ya next week.”
Seri just grunts, and I watch her leave with a chuckling Carl as Sparrow flops down on the sofa and smiles at me, her happiness evident.
“You know she was being serious, right?” I ask, my mouth twitching when she just smiles and sighs deeply.
“Oh yeah, I just don’t care. She needs a friend, and well, I like her, so I’m gonna be it. Besides, I’m being practical here, Lex. Just think of all the money I’ll save not calling the other phonies at the psychic hotline. Where’s my pizza?”
Another lip twitch, this one really difficult to contain when she turns the TV on and seems to have dismissed me.
“I ordered it before I got here. It’s on the way.”
“So, how went a day in the life of Rosie Mayhew? Learn anything fabulous? Am I a spy? A ninja assassin undercover in the desert burbs? At least tell me my fake identity.”
God, the woman is a card, she really is.
“Hmm, none of that.”
“Oh good, my life as a boring twenty-something-year-old is clearly working. I’ll have to call my contact at the Kremlin and give him a thumbs-up for effort,” she says and snorts.
Jesus, I really like this woman. Have I mentioned it before? Because if not, I have to tell you that watching her chew on her hair while she frowns at the TV and picks at her big toenail is a real turn on for me.
She’s still dressed in the tank top from hell, her boobs saluting me, but the jeans are gone as the heat of the day progressed. I now get to torture myself wondering what’s hiding beneath the short, pink sleep shorts she’s wearing. The way her knee is crooked as she tries to mutilate her toe with a toothpick suggests that she waxes at least part of her snatch and that she prefers thongs over bikini-cut panties.
THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle Page 65
