The Gambler (19 page)

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Authors: Denise Grover Swank

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Humorous, #Romance

BOOK: The Gambler
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Libby was glad he’d told her about his father—it explained so much about him. A part of her longed to make a confession of her own, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him about her childhood. She couldn’t place her finger on the reason for that hesitation, which upset and confused her. She had no doubt Noah would be just as understanding of her situation as she had been of his. But she couldn’t let it out of the lock-box of memories. It was something she hadn’t even shared with Megan and Blair, and she’d known them since kindergarten.

She was still lost in thought when Noah touched her shoulder.

“Libby, we’re here.”

She blinked in surprise. “Where?”

“Caesar’s Palace.”

“What? How’d we get here so fast?”

“You fell asleep.”

“But I wanted to see Vegas!”

He laughed. “Trust me, you can see as much of it as you want. But not in this car. While you slept, I made arrangements to drop it off here at the hotel. Which means we have to get all of our things out.”

That wouldn’t be too hard considering everything she had with her was either on her person, in Noah’s suitcase, or stuffed in a clear trash bag. “You know we’re going to have to carry a wedding dress stuffed in a trash bag through the hotel?” she asked, reaching for the door handle.

“Hey, it’s Vegas. I doubt anyone will even notice this time.”

He had a point. She got out of the car and waited while Noah talked to the rental car attendant. When she reached into the trunk for the bag with the wedding dress, Noah—still talking to the agent—moved toward her and handed her a gray garment bag with the name of a tux rental place in bold letters.

He really
had
brought a tux. Why had she questioned him before? Noah and Libby bullshitted the rest of the world, but they were always real with each other.

He grabbed his carry-on bag and the trash bag and flashed her a smile. “Let’s go.”

She followed him down several long halls until they entered a large marble-clad foyer with a giant statue in the middle. Noah checked his phone, then handed it to Libby. “Josh texted me Gram’s number. Why don’t you call her and tell her we’re here? Maybe we can meet up with them somewhere. If nothing else, you can get your ID.”

She took the phone and wandered closer to the statue, staring up at the painted ceiling. It surprised her that Noah had picked this place with its grand extravagance. He seemed more like a Bellagio guy. Gram answered on the first ring.

“So you ran off with my Libby, did you?” she asked with a chuckle.

Her chest warmed at the sound of Gram’s voice. “Gram, it’s me. The runnee herself. Libby.”

“Libby, my girl. Did you run off to Vegas to get married, too?”

“Too? Who’s getting married in Vegas?”

“Me, of course. I caught your bouquet.” Then the older woman grumbled. “Ruby, stop getting your panties in a wad. If I want to get married, I’ll damn well do it.”

Good Lord. Even Gram—a seventy-something-year-old woman—was having better luck in the love department than she was. Noah hadn’t mentioned this part of Gram’s plan. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

“I’m not. I’m hoping to meet him here.”

“In Vegas?”

“It seems like a great place to start. After I snag him, I can take him to an Elvis wedding chapel before he changes his mind.”

Libby grinned to herself. “Elvis? I didn’t know you were an Elvis fan, Gram.”

“I’m not, but going through a drive-thru chapel seems tacky.”

Libby chuckled. “I won’t argue with you there. Noah said you brought my driver’s license?”

“I brought more than that, my girl. Why don’t you come up so I can show you?”

Libby laughed. “That sounds like a bad pick-up line, Gram.”

“Maybe I’m trying to help you get picked up. I’m in room 1835 and you better get up here soon. Don’t bring Noah.”

That caught her off guard. “Why not?”

The older woman laughed. “I don’t think you want him seeing some of it.” Her voice was muffled when she spoke again. “Ruby, give it a rest!”

Libby had no idea what Gram could have brought that she wouldn’t want Noah to see—but it couldn’t be good. Especially if it had something to do with “getting picked up.” “Noah’s checking in now. I’ll come up to see you and then meet him in our room.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you in a few minutes. And on second thought, bring that boy up with you after all. I need to see if he looks just as good as the last time I saw him at Blair’s wedding. I’ve been talking him up to my sculpting class.”

Noah was walking toward her as she hung up, trailing his suitcase and the trash bag stuffed with her wedding dress. A few people gave him strange looks, but for the most part, everyone ignored them. “You get a hold of her?”

“Yeah, she’s in room 1835 and she’s up to no good.”

He laughed. “It’s Gram. That’s a given.”

“She says she’s brought”—she made air quotes—“more than my license. At first she told me not bring you, but she changed her mind.”

His grin spread wider. “That does sound like trouble.”

“Especially since the main reason she wants you there is so she can make sure you look as good as you did at Blair’s wedding. I suspect she’s about to proposition you to sit for her sculpting class this time.”

He burst out laughing. “That old woman is bound and determined to see my bare ass. Perhaps I should just drop my pants and show it to her.”

Gram isn’t the only one who wouldn’t mind seeing your bare ass
sprang into her mind out of nowhere. What in the world was wrong with her? If she couldn’t control her raging hormones, she might have to ask to sleep in the grandmothers’ room.

“How about we go up to Gram’s room first and get your surprise? Then we can drop everything off at our room.”

“Sounds good.”

Noah was quiet in the elevator, but Libby wasn’t feeling very talkative herself. She realized things were about to change. It had been easy to pretend the outside world didn’t exist when it was just her and Noah.

Perhaps Noah felt the same way and that’s why he’d reacted so strangely to the news that the older women were crashing their party.

But before she knew it, she was knocking on the door to Gram’s room, and as soon as Gram answered the door, any hesitation fell away. “I’m so glad you didn’t marry that giant teddy bear,” Gram squealed, pulling her into a hug. “That boy wasn’t the man for you.”

Libby hugged her back, instantly feeling better. “Turns out you were one of the few people who thought that way. Noah was against it from the moment I told him.”

Gram chuckled as she stepped back and pinned her gaze on Noah. “Of course he was. He’s in—”

“Standing right here,” Noah quickly interrupted, putting a hand on Libby’s shoulder. “And I’m eager to hit some blackjack tables, so how about we grab Libby’s things, drop our things off at our room, and then the four of us can head out?”

Gram’s gaze narrowed on him. “Impatient, are you? I didn’t take you for a gambler, Noah McMillan.”

“Sometimes you have to play the hand you were dealt,” Noah responded.

“As long as you don’t fold too soon,” Gram winked.

Libby looked back and forth between the two, wrinkling her nose in confusion. “What are you two talking about?”

Noah flashed her a tight grin. “Nothing.” Then he returned his attention to Gram. “You up for blackjack?”

Gram shook her head. “You two will have to hit the tables without us. We’re about to head out to see a show.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Noah murmured, half-heartedly. “What are you seeing?”

Gram scowled and waved her hand. “Some old geezers’ rock group Ruby wants to see. I hope they put enough denture adhesive in this time. Last night they spat their dentures out onto the stage. It was all over Twitter.”

“You try singing a vibrato like that without spitting out
your
dentures,” an older woman’s voice shouted from inside the room. “And that wasn’t a rhetorical question.”

Gram looked over her shoulder. “It wasn’t a question at all!” She turned back to Libby and Noah, shaking her head. “We’ll do what
she
wants tonight and what
I
want tomorrow.” She had a wicked look in her eyes and Libby wondered if Nana Ruby knew what she was getting herself into.

“I heard that!” the older woman, who could only be Nana Ruby, shouted.

“Then how about after the show?” Noah asked.

“After the show, I’m goin’ to bed,” Nana Ruby called out from behind Gram. “And let those poor kids in, Maude. They’ve been drivin’ all day.”

Gram ushered them into the spacious room with two beds. As soon as she caught sight of Nana Ruby, sitting on the edge of one of the beds in a sparkly shirt and a pair of jeans, Libby’s mouth dropped open.

“I told you this shirt was a bad idea,” Nana Ruby grumbled, getting to her orthopedic-shoe-covered feet.

“You keep your shirt on, Ruby O’Donnell,” Gram said. Then she burst out laughing at her pun.

“You look amazing, Nana Ruby. Honestly,” Libby assured her. “I’m just not used to seeing you look so . . . colorful. And sparkly.”

“Maude said if we went to see The Crooners, I had to wear this shirt.” The gray-headed woman scowled as she sat back down. “At least only three people know me here.”

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” Gram said with an over-exaggerated wink. “Ain’t that right, kids?”

Noah laughed. “I promise not to spread word of your exploits once we get home, Gram.”

Her eyes widened. “What? I was counting on it. Especially if I get you drunk enough to drop your drawers. I bet your hiney’s as firm as the sculptures all over this hotel.” She turned her sharp gaze to Libby. “Am I right?”

Libby gasped in shock and sent an embarrassed look to Noah, but her mind was now preoccupied with wondering how firm his ass actually was.
No. Don’t go there.
“I wouldn’t know, Gram. Noah and I aren’t like that.”

She shook her head, her lips pursed. “Well that’s a damn shame.”

Libby’s face flushed and she forced herself not to glance at Noah to gauge his reaction. He moved up beside her, and she was very aware of the warmth and nearness of him when he settled a hand on her shoulder. “You said you brought Libby more than her license?”

“Yeah.” Gram picked up a black carry-on bag and set it on the bed. “I went to your place with Megan to pick up some clothes.”

“Oh, God,” Libby mumbled under her breath. “Please tell me Megan picked them out.”

Gram laughed as she patted the bag. “I took some liberties.”

Noah’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. “I can’t wait to see what you chose, Gram.”

She started to unzip the bag and then pointed at him. “You wait in the bathroom.”

“Why?” He sounded defensive, like a chastised little boy. Libby found it adorable.

“This isn’t for your eyes.” She pointed to the door. “Go.”

Noah waggled his eyebrows, pleading with Libby to let him stay, but she shrugged and smirked. “You heard the woman.” Ordinarily, nothing in that bag could have embarrassed Libby, but with her out-of-control hormones or whatever was going on with her, she’d rather not have Noah around if Gram was about to pull out something risqué.

Noah grumbled about missing all the fun, but he winked at Libby as he shut the door. “Make sure to talk really loud so I don’t miss anything,” he said from the bathroom.

Gram lifted the lid and Libby sighed with relief when she saw perfectly ordinary items—rolled jeans, some rolled T-shirts, a cosmetic bag. It was far neater than she usually packed. It had Megan’s touch all over it. “Megan grabbed your makeup bag and some shampoo and shower gel.”

Libby broke into a huge grin. She didn’t usually mind going so
au naturel
, but she had a sudden urge to look her best for Noah tonight, which would require her full arsenal. “What else did you bring?”

Gram gave her a mischievous glance as she pulled out several slinky cocktail dresses. “For you to go out with Noah.”

Libby’s pulse picked up at the thought of wearing the black beaded dress with its neckline that plunged farther south than an Antarctic expedition.
“Gram.”

Nana Ruby shook her head and mumbled something about pneumonia under her breath.

Next Gram pulled out the lingerie Megan and Blair had given her for her honeymoon—a black lace bra and panties and an ivory babydoll with a lace bra, a sheer lace skirt, and matching G-string panties. They were French—and quite expensive. But she reminded herself that she had no business wearing them here in Vegas, even if the thought of Noah’s reaction made her skin flush.

She had to pull herself together.

She feigned a sigh of impatience. “In case you’ve turned senile since Saturday—and I know you haven’t—you know as well as I do that this is a road trip, not a honeymoon.”

The older woman shrugged and tossed a pair of red lacy panties onto the bed. “Then there’s this.” She held up a sexy, silver, barely-there negligee.

“Um . . . Gram. That’s not mine.”

She winked. “I know. It was my wedding gift to you. I hope you don’t mind that I unwrapped it and put it in with your things.”

“Since there was technically no wedding, you don’t need to give me anything at all. You should return it.”

Gram waved her off. “You need this.”

Need it? No. That nightie would get her into trouble faster than she could charge up her Visa in an art store. “I’ve sworn off men for the next year. I won’t be needing that anytime soon.”

“Sworn off men?” Gram asked in dismay.

“Leave the poor girl alone, Maude,” Nana Ruby muttered, shaking her head. “She doesn’t need a man. A year off might be good for her.”

“Poppycock!” Gram exclaimed, waving her hand around as if she were physically batting away nonsense. She turned to Libby. “Why would you give up men? Have your ovaries shriveled up? Are you having hot flashes?”

She was having hot flashes all right, but not the kind Gram was talking about. “No, Gram. Let’s just say I keep making stupid choices with men. Maybe it would be best if I took some time off to focus on me. Then I can figure out what kind of guy I want.”

It was far easier to figure out what she didn’t want—some version of Josh, Garrett, or Mitch. She’d be bored in ten minutes if she married a responsible, rule-following, white-collar guy. And that was the problem. The men who weren’t like that were the ones she’d wasted the last twelve years—okay, fifteen years if she included high school—of her life on. Men like that didn’t stick around.

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