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What Happens In Vegas.... Doesn't Always Stay There Page 22
Author: Terry Towers

She took her position sitting on a wooden bar stool behind the kitchen island and watched as he checked on the sauce that was sautéing on the stove. She was impressed watching him as he worked away in the kitchen. And he looked incredible with his faded blue jeans riding low on his hips and a black t-shirt clinging to his torso and chest, showing an outline of the muscles underneath. She remembered running her fingers along those fine contours and longed to do it again.

Wrong brother, wrong brother! the voice of reason screamed out in her head.

We still haven’t made any commitments to each other, she reasoned back, but still a sliver of guilt crept into her consciousness. She growled at herself; she wasn’t the one to call Dane, he called her! And it wasn’t like she’d kissed him. They were friends. Just friends. Nothing wrong with that. It was okay to have a little crush over a friend as long as she didn’t do anything about it.

“Something on your mind?”

“Huh?” She looked up, met his gaze and then shook her head. “No, nothing. So what was the surprise?”

“Taste this first.” He scooped up some of the sauce and passed her the wooden spoon.

Taking the spoon, she sampled the sauce and moaned. “This is delicious. I mean… really…delicious.”

A self-satisfied smile spread across his lips. “Good. Glad you like it.”

“I don’t like it. I love it. Seriously.” Taking the spoon back, he placed it on the counter and wiggled his finger at her. “Hold on a second. I’ll get your surprise before we eat. Stay put.”

“Yes, Sir!”

He disappeared from the kitchen and returned several minutes later with a wide grin on his lips and holding something behind his back. “Now, for the record I’m going to expect something in return for what I’m about to give you.”

Tilting her head to the side, her eyes narrowed at him. “Like what?”

“I’m not at liberty to say right now, but just let it be known that sometime in the future, I’m not too sure when, I’ll be calling in my reward.”

“Oooookay.”

“Agreed?”

She quickly nodded, squirming on her stool, anxious to see what he had for her. She felt like a child at Christmastime. “What is it?”

He pulled the item from behind his back and her mouth dropped as she slipped from the stool.

“Oh my God!” Tears welled up in her eyes and her body trembled as she took a few hesitant steps toward him. In his hands was her most valuable and prized of items that was stolen from her boutique: a red crocodile skin Birkin that she’d been selling for fifty thousand.

With a little squeal of excitement she rushed to him, throwing herself into his arms, nearly toppling his large frame backward from her excitement. She placed a series of kisses across his jaw and as she was about to pull away he pulled her closer and claimed her lips with his.

Her body froze at first, but then quickly responded remembering his body and a low moan rumbled in the back of her throat. Parting her lips, she invited him in. She loved the taste of the spices from the sauce on his lips and tongue. But more than that she loved the feel of his body against hers as she pressed tight against him.

The sound of the bag slipping from Dane’s fingers brought her back to the reality of the situation and she pulled away from him, feeling breathless and confused. She’d been flirting with Dane, teasing, but she didn’t intend for things to go beyond harmless flirting – or did she?

She’d decided it was to be Graham. Didn’t she?

“So sorry. I –” He bent and picked the bag from the floor and passed it to her. “I hope I didn’t damage it.”

She accepted the bag and clutched it to her chest. “No. It’s perfect.” She couldn’t believe she’d gotten it back. Under the ruse of pretending to examine the bag for any damage she took a moment to gather her emotions. “How did you get it?”

His smile returned. “It was a fluke to be honest. We were investigating a store for another crime and we came across the bags in the back, getting ready to be shipped overseas. I remembered your stolen bags and matched them up with your stolen list. You’ll have to come to the station and claim them all and fill out the paperwork, but you should have them back within a week or two.”

“How were you able to get this one out of the station?”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Called in a favour. I know how much these bags mean to you and I wanted you to have it. And I remembered you said the most valuable ones were the weird leather and…” he motioned to the bag. “That one looks weird so I assumed it would mean a lot to you.”

Her brow furrowed. “You listened to me chattering on about the types of bags last week?”

His face flushed and he avoided her gaze. “Of course.” Brushing past her, he went back to the stove and pulled the pot of boiling pasta from the burner. “It’s ready.”

Still clutching the Birkin, she spun around and watched him. He wasn’t supposed to be the sweet brother. He was supposed to be the one who fucked women, got bored and went on his way to the next conquest. He wasn’t supposed to really care. Could it all be a ruse, a game to gain her affections so she’d sleep with him again and he could move on? She didn’t think so and it confused the hell out of her.

~*~*~*~*~

~ Graham ~

Ahhh. Shit, should have called. Hope he made enough for the both of us. The sweet aroma of spaghetti sauce and garlic bread drifted to his nose as Graham stepped through the front door of Dane’s house still in full uniform. The day had been one big disaster. It seemed like every call he got today was one stupid thing after another. Dane was an amazing cook, better even than their mother, even though he’d never admit it to Dane and certainly not to their mother, so Dane’s spaghetti would definitely hit the spot.

He’d been tempted to go see Genevieve, nothing could lift his mood like her, but she wasn’t answering her mobile and he wasn’t the type to just pop into someone’s place – other than his brother’s place. As he shrugged off his jacket and placed it onto the closet he noticed a woman’s black coat and hesitated as he considered leaving.

But curiosity over the identity of this mystery woman and the grumbling in his stomach were too much. I’ll pop in, grab some food, meet Dane’s chick of the week and be on my way. He heard a woman’s laughter coming from the kitchen as he made his way into the house. It sounded familiar. His curiosity piqued, he increased his pace until he got to the threshold of the kitchen and his eyes were immediately drawn to the kitchen table. His brother was at one end of the table and Genevieve at the other.

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