Abby hated Las Vegas. She hated the dry, insufferable heat. The crowds of people. The drinking, gambling, and mob mentality. But most of all, she hated it because it was home. Memories of where she met her ex-husband and started the life they made there for nineteen years. But she loved her best friend. And her best friend wanted a wedding at home. Wanted it to be at the same hotel where she met her husband-to-be. Wanted Abby to be her maid-of-honor.
So of course, she said yes.
Which was why she was there, checking in to The Venetian where Thelonious reserved those in the wedding party each a room all on the same floor. Her eyes drifted around the foyer and lobby. There was only one other person she knew involved in the wedding other than the bride and groom. Avoiding him would be impossible. As Thelonious' best friend and man, they would be included in all aspects of the wedding and day activities leading up to it, including meeting the happy couple for dinner later that night.
"Enjoy your stay, Miss Jennings," the front desk attendant, Gina, told her with a beaming smile.
Abby returned the young girl's smile. "Thank you."
She took her room card and made her way over to the elevator. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she sent a quick text to Callie. I'm here and on my way up to change.
Yay! Hope you like your room. Theo went all out. We'll be there as soon as we can! Can't wait to hug you, darling!
You too and I'm sure I will. The price they charge you for a week here could pay my rent.
Nothing but the best for my girl.
Abby shook her head and stuck her phone back into her pocket. The bellman had already taken up her bags.
Inside her room, Abby gaped. To her left was a grand king size bed with a large ornate headboard, then down three steps, a separate living room with not one but two couches, table and chairs, desk, and mini fridge. The light brown walls had thick, white framing, and a large bay window of the Strip. She dropped her purse on the bed, and thought, Nice job, Thelonious. Running her hand along the edge of the bed, Abby wandered down the steps and to her right, into a bathroom that was the size of the living room.
Dark blue marble countertop vanity and double sink, a closet filled with white fluffy towels and bathrobes. And what really caught her attention, a large roman tub. A little deeper and it might as well be a pool. She'd be using that later tonight for sure.
With a longing sigh, she left the bathroom and made her way back up the stairs to where her bags had been placed in the closet by the bed. Lifting her suitcase, she unzipped it and began removing her things. She had brought a variety of dresses, all of which she frowned at as she removed them. They would all need to be steamed as most had wrinkled on her trip. A few pairs of jeans, a few tee-shirts, for the downtime between rehearsals, family gatherings, and bachelorette party as maid of honor that she was forced to attend. Then her underwear that consisted of black and red lace and silk. She may have been single, it may have been years since she'd had sex, but that didn't mean she didn't like to still feel sexy sometimes.
And why not this week?
It was Las Vegas. After all, what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas, right? It wasn't as though she had someone in mind because she didn't. Not really. Oh, who was she kidding? She wasn't that type of girl. She couldn't throw herself into bed with a complete stranger even if she wanted to. Taking the only wrinkle-free dress form her bag, she held it up in front of her. The black material clung to her shape and revealed just enough for the right person to notice and those who didn't care to, not.
She could wear it tonight. It was dinner with Thelonious, Callie, and Marcus. She hadn't seen him in, well, since the day she discovered her husband in their bed with the woman he'd been cheating on her with for a little over a year. Almost three years now.
It wasn't that she hadn't been grateful that he'd come to her job to tell her about Jake's activities. But it had been complicated. Two weeks before, Jake had met with Marcus for drinks and to catch up while Marcus was in town working on a case. Jake had come home that night upset and sporting a nice blossoming bruise on his cheek. He told her he and Marcus had gotten into an argument over her. Marcus had admitted to Jake that he was in love with Abby and Jake had hit him first.
For the next two weeks, Abby avoided every call to her cell and her office. If Marcus thought that she would leave her husband, he had another thing coming. Then unexpectedly, in the middle of her shift at the hospital, there he was. His hair had grown out a bit since she last saw him five years previous and, instead of clean shaved, had a well-trimmed beard. She hadn't recognized him right away or she would have turned and walked away from him. But she hadn't, and before she knew it, she and he were almost nose to nose as he told her what really happened that night.
That Jake, four drinks into their little catch-up, had been the one to admit he had been having an affair with his dermatologist. That he had no intention of divorcing Abby or letting go of Lorelei. Their talk became words of anger then threats and then blows.
In the end, Abby had been the one to leave. She called Marcus later that night and asked if he knew a good divorce lawyer. He had known the best. A month later, she was divorced thanks to Diana Sydney. And thanks to Marcus.
In a way, she resented Marcus. The feeling was misplaced, she knew, but the pain she felt when she'd gone home to find a pair of blue high heels in her hallway, followed by a crisp, white button-up shirt, gray pencil skirt, black satin bra and matching thong, she couldn't help but blame him for it. She could still see the designer label from where she stood, looking down at the bra just outside of her bedroom door. La Perla. The woman had expensive taste, she'd give her that.
Had he not interfered, she would have gone on with her life in blissful ignorance. Would have gone home from work to a husband who smiled when she came home and to a daughter who was happy to see her and not one who blamed her for breaking up their family.
But he did interfere. And once she had known there was no going back. Once she'd seen it with her own eyes. Once Lorelei was gone and her husband sat at the end of their bed, the same bed that had just been calling out another woman's name, had admitted how long it'd been happening and how he'd fallen out of love with her and in love with another, that was it.
Her marriage was irrevocably over.
Looking at the dress, she felt a need to prove to herself, and a little to him, that despite being left for someone else, she was still desirable. That she wasn't the same broken woman who walked away from him in the hospital all those years ago. That she picked herself up and moved on just fine on her own.
If there was one thing Marcus Kane hated more than anything, it was being late.
He had planned to fly into Vegas the day before he was due to check into the room Thelonious had reserved for him. But due to flights being canceled and delayed because it had been too hot for planes to land, he had just caught the last seat on the redeye from Honolulu.
Had he been on the mainland, he could have driven there faster then it took to take a plane there.
His plane landed at just after five in the morning. Tired and a bit pissed off, he decided he'd rather pay extra and check in extremely early at the Venetian than have to change hotels later in the day.
He stared out the window of the cab as they passed palm tree after palm tree. The lights of the city still on in all their full glamour against the backdrop of the slowly rising sun. He took a deep breath and let it out through his nose.
When Jaha called him six months back and asked him if he would be his best man at his wedding, his answer had been an immediate, yes. There hadn't been a reason for him to say no. They'd been best friends since college, studied for the bar exam together. Marcus had been the first person Jaha called after his son's birth and the first person he called when his wife had died five years later.
They were friends through thick and thin. It was only when Jaha had begun to list off the people also in the wedding party, that gave Marcus pause.
Abby.
It'd been years since he had seen her. As hard as he tried, he couldn't erase the image of her standing in front of him, with her eyes filled with tears, calling him every name in the book, telling him how wrong he was, that he was only telling her what he was because he wanted her.
However true it was, however much he loved her, he would have given anything -even his love for her- to keep from breaking her heart the way he knew telling her about Jake was.
When she walked away from him that day after telling him how much she hated him, he thought that would be the last words he'd ever hear from her.
But sitting in his hotel room later that night while drinking straight from a bottle of Jameson, his phone rang. It'd been her. And when he told her he would have his good friend, Diana, call her the next day, silence grew in the line as heavy as his heart and he listened to make sure she was still there, only to hear a choked sob. With his head in his hand, he held the phone to his ear and stayed on the line, listening as she cried. There had been nothing he could have said to her to console her. He was pretty sure she wouldn't have wanted to hear much else he had to say anyway.
Once her tears abated, once she'd taken a few deep breaths, only then did she whisper those last words he'd hear from her.
Thank you, Marcus.
The idea of seeing her now, all these years later, both made his heart leap and his stomach tie in knots. He heard from Thelonious she had moved to LA to be closer to her mother and Callie. There were many times over the years he wanted to pick up the phone and call her but what the hell would he say?
It was better just to stay away.
Thankfully, the situation with Jake had come at a time when he'd been offered a job far enough away that his move and new role had occupied a good portion of his mind. But when his things were unpacked, when his job was done at the end of the day, he'd look out his window, watch the sunset and think of her.
He found it amusing he'd been doing just that when he spoke to Theolonus that night. Long after the sun had gone down did he let himself think about her. He could still remember her dark brown eyes filled with disbelief. He had closed his eyes then, telling himself to let go of the past and look forward to the future.
When he saw her again, he was determined to see the smile he missed.
Standing at the reception while waiting to check in, he listened to the tell-tale noise of the casino and though he knew it was stupid, allowed his eyes to roam the lobby. To his disappointment, the only people there were older men sitting at tables reading the paper with their morning cup of coffee, men in suits on their way to work or youngsters coming back from an overnight binge. She wouldn't have been there so early, but that didn't stop him from hoping.
"Enjoy your stay, Mr. Kane." The dark-haired young woman smiled and slid his keycard across the marble countertop.
Taking it, he thanked the woman and headed up to his room. He tipped the bellman and once he was gone, collapsed onto the bed.
Getting little sleep on the plane, a headache started to form a little over an hour ago. What he needed to do was get some sleep before he needed to get ready to meet everyone later that night.
She was early and for good reason.
Liquid courage, as Callie would call it.
Just one drink to calm her nerves before he got there.
Up at the bar, she took a seat and smiled at the blue-eyed young man. He placed a square napkin in front of her and with palms down on the bar, asked, "What can I get you?"
"An apple Crown and Coke, please."
"You've got it."
Not long later, her drink was placed in front of her. She thanked the man who had more patrons to attend and sipped her beverage.
She let the sweet burn go down slowly, savoring it, letting her mind wonder if she would see the same Marcus Kane she had last time. The hair, the beard… She hated to admit it, as she was a married woman at the time, but screw it, her husband had been cheating on her so who the fuck cared...Marcus Kane looked damn good with a beard.
He always looked good if she were completely honest with herself.
"May I join you?"
A shiver trailed down her spine at the sound of his voice. She swiveled in her seat to find the man in question standing beside her. Her top teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Dressed from head to toe in black, his hair just as she remembered it, same trimmed beard, and God, did he have a tan?
"You may," she said, turning to face him as he took a seat beside her.
The bartender chose that moment to ask Marcus what he would be having, and she took the time, while he was distracted, to run her fingers through her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders.
Drink now in hand, she watched him raise his bourbon and coke to his lips. Her lips pulled up when he took a long drink from it, couldn't help but wonder if he was as nervous to see her after all these years as she was to see him.
"So Abby…"
"Marcus…"
He smiled, and damn herself for being so weak but she found herself smiling back. "How have you been?"
"I've been good. Yourself?" She cringed internally at how formal she sounded.
"Good. It was a bit of a mess getting here but I made it."
"A mess?"
He nodded through a drink. "I guess the planes weren't landing here yesterday. Apparently, there is such a thing as too hot to land. I just managed to get the last flight off the island yesterday evening and got here early this morning."
Her head tilted to the side as her brows rose. "The island?"
"Oh, I don't suppose you would know. A few years ago I accepted a position at a small firm in Hawaii. O'aho more specifically."
"Explains the tan," she said, letting her eyes take him in and when she realized she was staring, turned her attention back onto her drink. "I'm jealous. We don't see much sun in Portland,"
He caught her looking before because this time, it was him who let his eyes take her in, and she couldn't say that she minded. "You should come visit. Grab yourself one too."
"Oh, I'm sure you'd enjoy that. Not awkward at all."
"You know I've been thinking about that actually."
"Of taking me to Hawaii or the awkwardness?" she teased.
He chuckled and she enjoyed the rich sound of it until he replied, "The latter. Since we're going to be spending a lot of time together this week I thought maybe we could pretend the past never happened."
She raised her glass to her lips to hide her smile. That would never work. "Never happened, huh?"
"Nope, we're just two people who met for the first time in a bar and turns out we're best man and maid of honor to our two best friends."
She considered his words, liked the idea of a sort of a do-over for them. "The whole week?"
He shrugged. "Or just for the night and see how it goes?"
Her lips tipped up. "You must not have much faith in us to get past what happened."
"On the contrary, I do," he said, then with a crooked smile, admitted, "I might have also thought it would make it easier to get away with flirting with you."
When she looked back on this night, she wasn't sure exactly what it was that compelled her more. Maybe it was the dim lighting with the candlelight flickering beside them that gave his eyes, that looked right through her, that dark warm glow. Maybe it was her curiosity. What it would be like to be wooed by Marcus Kane, or maybe, just maybe, she wanted to know if there really had been something there between them.
Drawing her shoulders back, she turned back towards him and said, "All right."
His eyes held hers and he grinned, looking surprised, but pleasantly so, like he didn't actually think she'd agree. "Yeah?"
"Why not? We're in Las Vegas and you know what they say…" she let her words trail off, leaving the ball in his court.
"That I do," he said, and she smiled, feeling his hand on her knee, his thumb sweep over her skin before he turned and lifted both of their glasses in the air asking for another.
He had known exactly what she meant, and for the rest of the night they smiled and laughed. Flirted shamelessly with a freedom they never could or would before. Looks lingered, intentional brushes of hands over skin, and the sharing of food.
The looks their friends had given them told him they weren't sure what to think of them, but any thoughts or opinions they had on the subject were kept to themselves.
Whether or not they were able to fully put their past behind them, neither of them seemed to have a hard time focusing on the here and now. Spending time with Abby was easy and effortless. She captivated his attention the moment he walked into the room and surprised him when she agreed to his absurd idea.
He walked her to her room, at first she tried to insist he didn't need to, but he reminded her they shared the same floor. She smiled then and tipped her head to the side in a gesture for him to follow. Sure they drank before and throughout their meal, but not to the point where either of them was drunk. Pleasantly warm was how she described it, and he couldn't help but agree.
The elevator ride up was silent. She pushed the button for their floor then stepped closer to him. Close, but not touching. Close enough he could feel the warmth from her skin and the smell of her perfume, and the sweet, blossom smell was a scent he would willingly drown in.
When they stepped out into the hall he followed her, stopping in front of 418.
He tried but failed to bite back his smile.
"What?" she asked.
He scratched his neck and gestured to the room across from hers. "This is me."
She bit her lip, and damn him but his eyes followed. "Convenient."
"So I guess I'll see you tomorrow at the rehearsal?"
She nodded slowly, and he felt his neck and face heat as her eyes took him in. She stepped up to him, and the breath in his lungs left him when she placed her hand on his chest. "Who said anything about the night being over?"
He swallowed. She was close, so close he could see the flecks of gold in her warm eyes which shown with, dare he assumed, was the same need he felt deep in his chest. It was all he could do to keep himself from leaning down and taking her lips with his, in the scant space that separated them.
"Abby," he murmured, lifting his hands and placing them on her lower back, "I know we agreed to forget about everything, but I don't think I can-" But she drew closer to him until his back hit the door and she was pressed right up against him. He nearly groaned aloud at the feel of her. He'd known her for so long, loved and wanted her for almost as long. Having her in his arms, feeling her against him, wanting him was all he ever dreamed of but as much as he wanted to know what it was to be able to flirt with her, it was entirely another to venture down the road they were headed now.
Because the road before him lay only heartache. His.
And while they may have put their past behind them tonight, he doubted they would be able or she would be able to move forward after all they had been through. No matter how desperately he wanted to.
"Come on, Kane," she said, "You and I both know you've wanted this."
The richness and clear want in her tone did make him groan. "You're goddamn right I have."
"What are you waiting for?" she whispered in his ear as she rose up on the tips of her toes, sending a shiver down his spine. "Take me, Marcus."
His name on her lips said in that breathy sigh was all it took for his control to break. With his lips against hers, he fumbled for his key. Somehow, someway, they made it into his room without ever breaking their kiss.
His last thoughts later, as he felt her around him, were how she would be his utter undoing.
