The Chase

by Shayla Black

  “All that with one phone call?” Heavenly looked stunned. “I can’t begin to thank you…”

  Gloria waved her away. “Doing business with powerful people has its benefits.”

  Beck glanced at the clock. “We’ve got five hours to show you some Vegas glitz and glitter. You up for breakfast and some sightseeing?”

  He and Seth didn’t have long to show her all she’d miss out on if she didn’t choose them, but he refused to waste a single second of this opportunity to give her some adventure and prove they could make her happy.

  Heavenly’s smile lit up her eyes, and Beck’s world suddenly seemed brighter. “I’d love to.”

  Seth grinned. “Run upstairs and get dressed. Beck and I will do the same.”

  “Sure. I just need to change clothes.”

  When Buddy offered to retrieve her suitcase from Raine’s car and bring it to her room, Heavenly tossed him the fob with a quiet thanks. An hour later, she sat at the outdoor café attached to the Paris Hotel, her wide eyes twinkling with awe and curiosity. Vegas was always interesting, but today the city was in fine form.

  Almost immediately, someone stumbled up to the entrance of the casino, drink in hand, and promptly puked on the carpet just over the threshold. The maintenance staff merely shooed away the drunk bastard, then cleaned up with a wet vac and some pungent industrial-strength cleanser.

  Heavenly blinked. “You two don’t look shocked. You’ve seen that before?”

  It was cute that she hadn’t. “So often that it’s barely worth noting.”

  The big PI waved the episode away. “Pfft. You should have seen the shit that happened in the back of my squad car.”

  Soon, a woman in last night’s black satin dress with smeared makeup and matted hair tiptoed out of the hotel, shoes in hand, squinting against the bright desert sunlight as she headed down the Strip.

  Heavenly leaned in and dropped her voice. “She’s walking awfully funny.”

  Beck busted out laughing. “Why do you think that is?”

  “She probably had a one-night stand. I’m not totally naive.”

  A big smile stretched across Seth’s face. “I doubt she was complaining last night.”

  The waitress refilled their coffee and took their order. They’d barely finished when Vegas proved it was the gift that kept on giving.

  A party of perky twentysomethings sporting tiaras, tight dresses, and thoroughly impractical heels limped down the sidewalk, singing an off-key rendition of Katy Perry’s tune about “Last Friday Night.” One carried a half-empty champagne bottle, another a neon penis sizable enough to satisfy a female Godzilla. The woman holding it sent Beck an embarrassed grimace. He shook his head. No, he didn’t want to know.

  “Whew, I hope I’m sober enough to get married in”—she glanced at her watch—“four hours. Shit!”

  “Just focus on the fact you’re getting boned tonight by that fine piece of man, Mrs. Carson.”

  “I love your optimism. That’s why you’re my maid of honor.”

  When the women staggered away, Beck turned to find Heavenly watching with a giggle. “I hope I wasn’t that drunk last night. Did Gloria say I blurted anything embarrassing?”

  Beck sent her an indulgent grin. “She wouldn’t have told me even if you had. She’s good at keeping secrets.”

  Heavenly looked relieved. “I guess in her profession, she has to be.”

  When the waitress set piping-hot plates in front of them a minute later, Heavenly took a bite of her bananas Foster waffles and groaned. “Oh, I’m having a foodgasm.”

  When she made sounds like that, Beck felt beyond ready to give her a different sort of gasm.

  Instead, he dug into his food, reaching down to adjust himself under the pretense of settling his napkin. He watched her close her eyes, sigh, and lick her lips like a woman in the throes as she devoured half her plate.

  Seth leaned in, looking somewhere between amused and strained. “Is she trying to torture us?”

  The amazing thing was, she seemed to have no clue. And no self-consciousness. She simply closed her lips around the fork, shifted in her chair, and groaned out in gustatory ecstasy again.

  She stopped abruptly when the next pedestrian meandered down the sidewalk in front of them. “Am I really seeing that?”

  The visual was best described as the love child of Willie Nelson and a fairy godmother, complete with long, graying braids, a wiry beard, a bikini top, a beer belly, and a pink tulle tutu.

  “Yep.” Seth just shook his head.

  Beck shrugged. “It’s Vegas. What happens here…”

  “Needs to stay here,” the other man quipped before turning his attention back to his plate. Beck did the same.

  Heavenly merely sat, breakfast forgotten, and watched the characters parading up and down Las Vegas Boulevard.

  Twenty minutes later, he gave up on her finishing her meal and paid the bill so they could join the humanity strolling along the Strip.

  As they waited at a crosswalk, Beck felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He skimmed a gaze over the tourists, the street actors in costume looking to make a quick buck, and the cars idling at the stoplight. Before he could pinpoint the source of his unease, the light turned green. The nagging sensation faded, and he shrugged it off.

  When they reached the far side of the street, Heavenly pointed to the imposing white marble building on the next block. “What’s that? It’s gorgeous.”

  “Caesar’s Palace. Want to go in and look around? The hotel has a mall attached. The interior alone will blow your mind.”

  “I’d love to.”

  “I’ve never been, either. Let’s do it,” Seth seconded.

  When they stepped into the hotel lobby, Heavenly gaped. Seth’s head seemed to be on a swivel, as well, as they inspected the massive fountain in the middle of the lobby. As they walked the mall, Beck watched in amusement as Heavenly and Seth drank in the colorful domed ceilings and intricate Roman statues. Along the way, they window-shopped.

  “Let’s go in here.” Seth nodded toward a store.

  Beck read the name on the marquee and shrugged. Louboutin sounded vaguely familiar. But when they tried to usher Heavenly inside, she dug in her heels.

  “This place is way too expensive.”

  Beck lifted her off the ground. “Maybe we want to spoil you.”

  When he carried her into the store and set her on her feet, she scowled…until a display of purses lured her away like a bee to a tulip.

  “Can you occupy her for a few? I need to grab something,” Seth whispered.

  Beck leveled a glare at him. “What are you up to?”

  He merely smiled. “If Heavenly asks where I’ve gone, make something up. I won’t be long.”

  Beck couldn’t miss the devious flicker in the other man’s eyes. “Hey, anything sheer and lacy works for me. Bows are a definite plus.”

  “Works for me, too.” Seth clapped his shoulder, then hurried out the door.

  Beck strolled up beside their girl, watching her stroke a stylish black leather purse with red piping. “You like that?”

  “It’s a work of art,” she breathed.

  “You should have it.” He motioned for a sales associate.

  Heavenly tugged his arm down in panic. “No! Did you see the price tag? This thing almost costs as much as a semester of my nursing school.”

  Beck sent her a noncommittal shrug before strolling to a display of shoes. A pair of black, open-toed stilettos encrusted with silver-spiked studs caught his eye. When he imagined Heavenly wearing them—and nothing else—his mind fell straight into the gutter.

  “How about these?” He held them up for her.

  Heavenly’s eyes widened as the pulse point at the base of her neck tripled. Oh, yeah. She liked them, all right. And by the way her rosy cheeks turned crimson, his mind wasn’t the only one in the gutter.

  She rushed toward him, darting a nervous glance at the saleslady occupied with another custome
r. “Put those down.”

  “Why?”

  “They look like they belong in that art gallery you took me to.”

  He couldn’t wipe the grin from his face as he leaned close to her ear. “Seth and I will find you more gorgeous than any work of art if you’re wearing nothing but these shoes and a fuck-me smile.”

  “You’re so bad,” she hissed.

  “You love it when I am.” He nuzzled her. “Come on. Let me get you a pair. Give Seth and me something to look forward to seeing you model for us while we wait impatiently for you to come back.”

  “Beck…” She sounded a little breathless as she dropped her lashes, then frowned. “Where is Seth?”

  “He’ll be back. Say yes…” Beck distracted her from asking more questions by slanting his lips over hers.

  As he teased the seam of her mouth, Heavenly opened for him and he plunged in, reacquainting himself with every slick, smooth dip and tempting crevice. She felt like home. He dove deeper, lured her closer. She trembled against him. As his cock strained and thickened, he fought the urge to push Heavenly against the nearest wall and fill her with every desperate inch.

  “Are you two…um, finding everything you need?” the sales associate asked.

  Heavenly hid her embarrassment as she tried on the stilettos in her size. They fit perfectly, and her little sashay across the store had Beck mentally stripping every stitch—except the shoes—from her body and tying her ankles to his bed. He didn’t hesitate to insist they’d take both the shoes and the purse.

  As the clerk disappeared to ring up their purchases, Seth strolled in, carrying a small blue bag emblazoned with tiffany & company. He darted a sharp glance between him and Heavenly, then a slow smile spread across his face. “Your lips look pink and swollen, angel. Did you and Beck fool around while I was gone?”

  There wasn’t an ounce of jealousy in the other man’s tone.

  Heavenly bowed her head with a little grin. Her innate submissiveness was a punch to the gut. They’d been embroiled in so much chaos that he and Seth hadn’t had time to tap into that or show Heavenly what they could truly do for her.

  “Not enough for me to really be smiling. But I’m still hoping for a nooner.” Beck winked.

  Heavenly rolled her eyes, turning even rosier, as the salesclerk briefly returned and took his credit card.

  “You didn’t have to buy me anything,” their girl insisted.

  Beck wrapped an arm around her. “I want to spoil you. And by the looks of what’s in Seth’s hand, he does, too.”

  She turned and studied the bag, her eyes going wide. “That’s for me?”

  “Of course.” Seth reached inside and lifted out a small box that matched the color of the bag, wrapped in a white bow. “Whatever happens, I want you to wear this always and remember us.”

  “Seth…”

  “Go on. Open it,” the PI encouraged.

  Beck peered over Heavenly’s shoulder. With trembling fingers, she loosened the bow and lifted the lid with a gasp.

  “Oh, my goodness.” She traced a fingertip over a trio of twinkling diamonds in the center of a rose-gold heart-shaped pendant. “It’s…beautiful. I love it.”

  Clutching the box, Heavenly jumped into his arms and wrapped hers around his neck, murmuring her thanks. He dipped his head and took her lips. Beck had to give the man props for being clever. Every time Heavenly looked at those three embedded gems, she would surely think of them.

  When the PI reluctantly ended the kiss, she turned to Beck. “Thank you both so much. You’re always so thoughtful. And you’re going to make me cry.”

  He slanted his mouth over hers for a slow kiss so potent it fired his veins. Even if he lived a million lifetimes, he’d never get his fill of this woman.

  He was still brushing his lips over hers while Seth laid the necklace around her neck. Then the sales associate returned with his purchases tucked neatly into a thick, branded bag. After he signed, the curious clerk handed back his credit card.

  As the three left the store, he memorized Heavenly’s happy grin…in case he never saw her again.

  Fuck no. Today wouldn’t be the last time he held her. He’d move heaven and earth to make damn sure of that.

  “Do you know where I can find the restroom?” she asked.

  “Over there.” Beck guided her down the ostentatious walkway, reluctantly releasing her when they reached the ladies’ room. “We’ll wait here.”

  When she disappeared inside, the hairs on the back of Beck’s neck stood on end again. Frowning, he scanned the milling shoppers and tried to ignore the nagging in his gut.

  “What’s wrong?” Seth frowned. “That’s the second time today you’ve looked around like something’s up.”

  “I have this weird feeling we’re being watched.”

  “I’m sure we are.” Seth chuckled. “We can’t keep our hands off our girl.”

  Beck wanted to believe gawkers were merely rubbing him the wrong way. Then again, why else would people be staring? Seth and Heavenly had no ties here, and he hadn’t lived in Vegas in over a decade.

  “You’re probably right.” He clapped Seth on the shoulder. “That necklace was perfect, man.”

  The big PI’s expression turned downright devious. “More than you know. Before we left for Vegas, I grabbed a small GPS tracker. For a rather large service fee, the salesclerk embedded the chip into the locket and sealed it shut.”

  So they would always know where Heavenly was.

  Beck high-fived him. “You sly motherfucker. I like you better every day.”

  “You were right; vinegar doesn’t work. Think of this as my ‘honey.’ Knowing her location won’t keep her safe, but we’ll have a starting point if we need it. And if she doesn’t come home…”

  Beck shook his head. “I’m not giving up.”

  “Me, either.” Seth stopped smiling. “What will we do if she decides her future isn’t with us?”

  “Honestly, man? I don’t have a fucking clue how, but we’ll change her mind.”

  Chapter Seven

  Sunday, April 7

  * * *

  Heavenly’s hands shook as she put the nondescript beige rental in park beside the for sale sign in the yard and stared at the early-morning light glinting off the farm she’d called home for the first fifteen years of her life.

  Even in the soft blush of a new day, it looked like something out of a horror film. It looked nothing like the home of her memories.

  Weeds had overtaken the front of the house, growing in a wild profusion with the budding hues of spring. Same with the walkway her father had once bricked, which led to the house and the barn, still standing side by side.

  Both buildings were run-down now, windows broken and looking derelict. She gaped at the barn’s sagging roof, probably buckling under the weight of winter snows past. Half the shingles had been blown away by time and gusts. The stark white exterior she remembered was a dingy, peeling gray.

  Despite being brick, the house hadn’t fared much better. It now choked on the ivy her mother had insisted on planting one summer—against her father’s wishes.

  Numbly, she stepped from the car and shut the door. Her stomach whirled. Not like it had on the plane ride to Wisconsin. That had been thrilling. Now she just felt sick. How many years had the property been vacant?

  Still trying to wrap her head around the disrepair, she circled the back of the vehicle and pulled her father’s urn from the front seat, clutching it like a lifeline as she kicked her way through the overgrown vegetation, toward the front door.

  Swallowing tightly, she tried turning the rusted handle. It was so loose it nearly came off in her hand. She pushed the door from the threshold. It squeaked in protest as she opened the portal to her past.

  Musty air rushed her, filling her nose with a vaguely unpleasant smell. Dust, cobwebs, and trash littered the family room. Something besides the scattered beer bottles and discarded food wrappers had gouged scars into the decades-old
hardwood floors. Now those knotty red pine boards were buckled with water damage. The walls were covered in multicolored, spray-painted graffiti. Soot caked the big brick fireplace, which now leaned off-kilter, as if it sagged under decades and gravity.

  Heavenly pressed a distressed hand to her chest as she wandered into the kitchen. It hadn’t fared much better. The shelves her father had once hung to display her mom’s kettle collection staggered and sloped. The white beadboard walls and ceilings were bashed and broken, paint bubbling. The striking shade of blue they’d painted the cabinets had long since chipped and faded to gray.

  She tried to make sense of the place, but this was no longer the home where she’d celebrated Christmases or where her father had met her with a hug when she’d bounded off the school bus every day. It seeped with suffering. The past was a scar here, its flesh first gouged that awful day her mother had blithely announced that fifteen-year-old Heavenly would be the sole caregiver for her ailing father because Lisa hadn’t really meant the “in sickness and in health” part of her vows. The wound had deepened when they’d been forced to sell for a pittance to some out-of-towners who clearly hadn’t stuck it out in the dairy farm business through multiple bitter Wisconsin winters. It had cut clear to the bone as the farm sat empty, idle, untended. Unloved.

  Heavenly turned in a semicircle. On the far side of the kitchen, the oven door yawned open, the dials along the front slitted like the judgmental eyes of a house telling her to get out because she no longer belonged here.

  With a cry, she ran for the back door. She didn’t even want to see the rest of the house.

  She dashed past the little tick marks with the accompanying dates on the frame of the back door and sprinted behind the house. She was almost grateful for the stiff wind that grabbed her hair and tugged at her sweater. It might be chilly, but at least she no longer suffocated on the pervasive dust and mold swirling with neglect. She could breathe again.

  Clutching the brushed silver urn a little tighter, she headed purposefully toward the big tree still standing proudly over the prairie. Their tree. That’s what her father had called it. She remembered playing on the rope swing that had once hung there while her father had tended the cows, when he’d occasionally given her a gentle push and a playful wink. Even it had changed with time, the bark peeling, the barren branches seemingly caught in endless winter.