That Wild Night. Aimee Carson

her time was up. She was leaving tomorrow.

      Jeff was offering her a chance to— God, was she seriously considering this?

      She never said yes. Never gave in and did the fun thing for fun’s sake. Maybe tonight, after living the straight and narrow for so very long, she could afford to break the rules without worrying about tomorrow.

      “I’ll think about it.”

      * * *

      A few minutes later, Jeff was exchanging back claps with Connor Reed, whose call had been the typical success his buddy made of everything he set his mind to—the only glaring exception being a broken engagement from two weeks prior. One Connor wouldn’t acknowledge any kind of emotional reaction to whatsoever. Hence, the bromance intervention in progress.

      Because Jeff had been there. He knew what it was to be blindsided with the realization that the perfect romance you were about to bet your future on—not so perfect after all.

      “No, I don’t love him, Jeff. It’s not about him. Or you. It’s about me feeling trapped and doing something desperate to escape. I’m sorry.”

      Yeah, it sucked.

      So, they’d done the gambling bit the night before, hit a few clubs and bonded in the manly way guys were most comfortable bonding. Thereby ensuring the whole guys’ weekend spiel Jeff had lured Connor in with, wasn’t a total snow job. But the grunts and knuckle bump portion of the weekend was at a close, and their friendship being what it was, Jeff made no bones about it.

      Pushing the Scotch he’d ordered in front of Connor, he jut his chin at the drink. “You might want to get a head start on that.”

      Connor shot him the half smile he’d never quite figured out how to make whole. “Little old for drinking games, aren’t we?”

      “Time to put your big girl panties on, man. I brought you here to talk feelings. Deep emotional feelings. And because you know I’m your best friend and always right, you’re going to sit there and take it like the man I know you can be.”

      The half smile was gone. “Jeff, I told you—”

      “Don’t bother. This is going to happen. But because I respect your stunted emotional intimacy boundaries, once I’ve said my piece we’ll have a few minutes of smack talk, just to get back on comfortable ground and then I’m going to give you your space and take off. Most likely taking the blonde bombshell who happens to be our server with me. Deal?”

      Connor picked up the glass in front of him and took a fortifying slug. Then cocking his jaw to the side, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “Okay. Let’s have it. But make it fast.”

      Jeff caught Darcy watching him from over by the bar, a little furrow marring the otherwise flawless skin of her brow. He cast her a quick wink and then folded his arms over the table returning his attention to Connor.

      “Your wish, my command. So, let me set the tone… I love you, man….”

      A few dozen old adages, choice idioms, apt metaphors and select bits of fortune-cookie wisdom later, Jeff’s work was done. There were things he’d needed the guy to hear, and things he needed to hear back. As it turned out, Connor hadn’t been so bad off after all.

      At least not in the way he’d imagined.

      Emotionally stunted, however, didn’t quite cover it as far as the intimacy issues went. But that was a can of worms for another trip. Connor had given him his walking papers a few minutes ago and now Jeff leaned back against the bar, watching as Darcy worried her bottom lip.

      No, she wasn’t the unreachable, cold woman he thought at all.

      “What about your friend? He looked really upset while you guys were talking.”

      Uncomfortable, yes. Upset, probably not. “Turns out the broken heart may have been more a case of dinged ego.”

      “You men and your egos. Does he name his, too?”

      Jeff waved her in closer. “Guys don’t tell other guys what they name their egos.”

      This time when he saw the little twitch at the corner of her mouth, he acted without thought and brought his thumb up to brush the vulnerable spot threatening to give him exactly what he’d been working for.

      At the bare touch, her lips parted on a small gasp and their eyes met. Then quietly but firmly she said, “I won’t go back to your room with you.”

      Jeff brushed that little corner of her mouth again and then withdrew his hand, parking it firmly in his pocket. “So when are we leaving?”

      She searched his face as if looking for a reason to say no, and for one crushing instant when she ducked her head and glanced away, he thought he’d lost her. But she was just untying her apron. And when she looked back at him, it was with eyes that were confident, clear and determined. Excited. “As soon as I get out of this uniform.”

      * * *

      “Does this count as sweeping you off your feet?” Jeff shouted, the laugh lines branching from his eyes, deeply creased, and the grin promising pure mayhem, gone full tilt.

      “I’m totally carried away!” she gasped around the elated laughter she’d given herself over to.

      The night breeze whipped at Darcy’s hair as she careened down to Freemont Street, gripping the security harness tight as she went and wondering if this rush of unadulterated exhilaration had more to do with the zip line or the man a few feet away.

      Still decked out in his suit and rocking a very double-oh-seven vibe with the harness and wind and all, Jeff cocked his head in her direction. “Your turn to pick next, beautiful. I’m looking for some more local flavor. It better be good.”

      They’d been going back and forth for hours already, starting with a light dinner at one of the city’s most coveted hot spots, where a twenty-second phone call from Jeff five minutes prior to their arrival scored them an immediate table complete with the VIP treatment and a breathtaking view. The restaurant had been her choice. One she’d only suggested because Jeff’s cocky grin and wild assertion he could get them into any place she wanted to go had been a challenge she couldn’t resist.

      Turned out, there was more to the guy than talk.

      Dinner, despite the upscale locale, had been casual and easy. The conversation varied and entertaining. Jeff was one of those men who seemed to know something about everything, and—whether the topic be movies, her wish list of travel destinations or the local economy—listened as much as he talked. And by the time they’d finished their coffees, Darcy had stopped second-guessing whether agreeing to go out with him had been a mistake, and was looking forward to finding out where they would go next.

      From there they’d hit a rooftop roller coaster, stopped to get Jeff a snack at her favorite taco stand, driven out to the Neon Museum where the old signs of casinos past were put out to pasture, stopped to watch the choreographed fountains and then went on to walk the famous casino and hotel’s gallery of fine art.

      Along the way, Jeff seemed to make fast friends with everyone. He checked the score for big games with valets, and made small talk with old ladies when he held the door for them. He was the kind of smooth that normally had warning bells clanging in Darcy’s head but for some reason, with Jeff, none of her typical knee-jerk reactions or default defenses were coming to the fore. In fact, she found herself letting go around him in a way she seldom did.

      And the laugh he’d been working so hard to earn… well, once they’d left the casino, she’d given up the fight and had been paying with interest ever since. Laughing at his outrageous stories, at herself, at a last night in Sin City she never would have expected. A night she doubted she’d ever forget. Because not only was she experiencing a side of Vegas that had been previously unavailable to her, but thanks to Jeff’s curiosity about her tastes, she had a last opportunity to relish those old favorites, by introducing