What Happens in Vegas... Page 11

  Her world was now completely, officially askew.

  Did pregnancy cause insanity? Maybe she was caught in some wishful daydream? The hand holding hers felt real enough: warm and strong and just calloused enough to remind her he wasn’t a pretty boy with a desk job at his daddy’s firm. And the way his other hand was sliding over her forearm…gooseflesh rose behind the feather-light touch.

  No, this was real. Weird, but real. That cautious bubble of optimism inflated in her chest again. She had three people on her side—Bennie, Gwen and now Uncle Marcus. Between the three of them, they’d have the gossip columns under control, and eventually, they’d get past Will’s pigheadedness, too.

  Which meant she only had Nick to deal with. And, for now at least, they had a truce. She might not like how that truce came about, but she was rapidly learning to take what she could get. She’d build on what she had and go from there.

  It wasn’t that bad of a start. At least half her plan was working out. A little voice in her head, though, wouldn’t stop wishing the half that was working out already was the half that involved Nick.

  Evie lived in a very strange world, Nick decided. Lunch with her Uncle Marcus—who must have been from a different branch of the family tree—had driven that point home.

  In all honesty, her family’s reaction wasn’t unexpected considering Evie’s inheritance and the fact she was the youngest and obviously doted on. But it was the last two hours that had him shaking his head at the world Evie inhabited.

  It started when they arrived at the country club and a person stepped in front of them to snap off a photo before the doorman shooed the cameraman away.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  Evie shrugged. “That’s Malcolm Wilson. Amateur paparazzo. You just made the ‘Texas High-Life’ blog. Congrats.”

  “Because I’m here?”

  “Because you’re here with me.” A tentative smile crossed her face. “I did warn you. People are interested in my family.”

  Belatedly, he realized that now included him. Great. “Why?”

  “Because we have money? Because we’re considered influential? Maybe Dallas doesn’t have enough real celebrities? I don’t know for sure why, but it comes with the territory. If I got all bent out of shape every time someone took my picture and posted it somewhere…” She shrugged again. “Let’s just say I don’t leave the house without makeup.”

  Still reeling from that, he’d borne Evie’s uncle’s interrogation with all the patience he could muster, drawing on his last reserves when Evie sent him a grateful look and squeezed his hand.

  But what really had him shaking his head had nothing to do with paparazzi or elderly relatives. In two hours at the country club—and the majority of that spent at a table with her uncle—no fewer than fourteen people had waylaid them. He’d expected some of it, simply because this was Evie’s family’s club and she was bound to know a lot of people, but these hadn’t been fourteen simple “Hi-how-ya-doin” quick conversations.

  Some knew of their marriage already, causing Evie to mumble something about Gwen being quick to the punch this morning with all the appropriate spin, but even he could tell people were fishing for details. Evie deftly deflected the questions without once losing her smile or seeming ungracious in any way.

  He was more impressed, though, at how easily Evie handled the requests for her time or her money for everyone’s various pet projects. He dealt with his fair share of that at home—and it was getting worse every day as his bank balance grew—but he could tell Evie had lots of practice in this area, as well.

  In many ways, Evie was a different person in Dallas. Her smile was brighter but less genuine, and she seemed more reserved than he remembered—and it couldn’t be him causing it. It took him a little while—about five or six sets of introductions and conversations—to figure it out.

  These were superficial relationships; they were far more interested in what she could do for them than how she was. No wonder she didn’t want these people to know she’d gotten pregnant accidentally; they’d eat her alive and relish every bite.

  And the reason why she often spoke of “Evangeline Harrison” as if she was a different person became clear. Evie had a role to play, and she played it well. No matter how much it chafed against her true personality.

  But what was her true personality? He needed to remember who she was, not be blinded to the truth and how women like Evie could be. He needed to keep that reminder front and center.

  So another piece of the Evie puzzle fell into place, but it still was far from a complete picture. No wonder she’d run off to Vegas to blow off steam. And no wonder she was so willing to move there now that she had an excuse. But was Vegas where she’d want to stay? Did she need all of this—as superficial as it was?

  Her polite smile didn’t falter until they were safely inside the car and he eased the car out of the club’s driveway. She blew out her breath noisily as she leaned back against the seat. “Well, that wasn’t so bad.”

  “You expected worse?”

  “I always expect the worst. It helps keep my mouth in check, and curbs that penchant for the dramatic that bothers Uncle Marcus so much.” Her mouth twisted. “The family’s image, by the way, used to be Marcus’s number-one thing. I don’t know who that man was, telling you your private life was none of anyone’s business.”

  Evie sounded so grumpy about it, he couldn’t help but laugh, and she shot him a dirty look for it.

  Casually, as if he wasn’t fishing for information, he asked, “Is he as tough on his own kids, or are you the only dramatic Harrison in the clan?”

  “There aren’t many Harrisons in the clan. Will and I are the only ones—plus Gwen and the boys, of course. But Will doesn’t make the papers much since he married Gwen, and the boys are too young, so I’m the only one they’re interested in right now. Uncle Marcus is a committed bachelor, and if he has any family at all, I’ve never met them.”

  Wait. He’d been through a military-grade interrogation and the man wasn’t even a true relative? “You mean Marcus isn’t really your uncle?”

  “No. He and my father were great friends, and he’s been with the company since the earth’s crust cooled. He kind of adopted our family, but I didn’t really know him until I moved back here.”

  It was slightly shocking how little he knew about Evie personally, especially since he knew so much about her physically. At the same time, they hadn’t had much time to really talk, and this was the most open and approachable Evie had been since she left Vegas the first time. He needed to take advantage of it. “I assumed you grew up in Dallas.”

  “No. I was born here, but we moved away when I was five. I told you how Will had to take me in after my mom died, right? I came back to Dallas when I was fifteen.” She laughed, but it was a slightly bitter sound. “It was a huge adjustment because I just walked into the fishbowl and was totally unprepared for any of it. That’s a whole different story, but that’s what Uncle Marcus is talking about when he mentions my ‘penchant for dramatics.’”

  He could almost feel sorry for her, growing up under a spotlight like that. But then he thought of Evie up on the stage at Starlight…if she was that free and adventurous in a strange place around strangers, what kind of trouble did she stir up in her hometown?

  Maybe the reserve he’d seen recently was unusual for her, a by-product of the situation. Evie obviously knew what was expected of her—today was proof of that—but if her family was on her case a lot, it had to be deserved. When he’d researched her family briefly just to get a feel for what he would be walking into, maybe he should have read past the who-wore-what-where.

  He should’ve been looking closely for clues, information to tell him how much Evie and his mother had in common…

  “It’s funny, you know,” Evie continued, unaware of his brief lapse of attention. “Gwen is the etiquette expert, so you’d think she’d be the one to really worry about, but Uncle Marcus is the real stickler. I
love him, but…”

  “And your brother?”

  “What about him?”

  “Does he agree with Marcus about your ‘dramatics’?”

  “Will doesn’t care so much that it ends up being news, if you understand my meaning. He doesn’t like the gossip, but it’s not the gossip that bothers him. Uncle Marcus focuses on the gossip, while Will is more focused on me.”

  “That sounds like a pain. Especially after what I saw last night.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t worry about last night. Will’s a lot of bark, and he tends to forget I’m an adult now, but he’ll come around. He always does.” She sounded sure of that.

  “Always? You’ve eloped before?”

  “No, like I said, this is definitely the biggest stunt I’ve pulled, but it’s not the first. And it won’t be the last.”

  “Planning to rob a bank or something?” Even with all his doubts and questions about Evie, he was still enjoying himself. She was certainly entertaining.

  “Nope, just giving birth barely nine months after the wedding and then getting a divorce. It’s gonna be fun,” she added sarcastically. “That will make everyone’s head explode.”

  “So why bother with getting married?”

  “Because divorce is too common to be hugely newsworthy. It will get reported, dissected and speculated about, but ultimately, that’s a family matter very few people can throw stones about.”

  Evie might end up in the press a lot, but she also had a savvy understanding of it. “Great. I’ll have your big brother coming after my hide.”

  “I’m pretty sure you can hold your own against Will.”

  Oddly, he took that as a compliment.

  Lowering her voice, she added conspiratorially, “And if it comes down to a fistfight, I got a fifty on you.”

  Was she teasing him? This was definitely a different Evie, reminiscent of Las Vegas. He feigned affront. “Only a fifty? Your brother’s got…What? Twenty years on me?”

  “Hmm…From what I saw on our marriage license—and happy belated birthday, by the way—it’s closer to fifteen. But you do have all that experience in bar fights…Still, I think a fifty is a safe bet.” She grinned broadly at him, turning the charm on high.

  “If you’re going to live in Las Vegas, we need to work on your betting skills. You’ll never make any money that way.”

  Evie laughed. “Not everyone gambles because they need the money. They gamble for the thrill.”

  Very true. And that knowledge would help her immensely in acclimating. “You checked out my birthday on the marriage license?”

  “I was curious.” She thought for a minute, then added, “I figured since we were getting married, I should at least know your birthday and middle name.”

  He pretended he needed to concentrate to navigate the entrance to the parking deck as a stall for time. Evie must really think he was a first-class bastard if she wasn’t willing to ask even the simplest of questions. “Those aren’t state secrets.”

  “Well…” Evie looked at him over the rims of her sunglasses. “You’re not exactly Mister-hey-ask-me-anything.”

  How many times had Kevin said much the same thing? That’s why he and Kevin made a good team—Kevin could do all the talking so he didn’t have to. Unfortunately, Kevin wasn’t here to answer Evie’s questions for him. “Try me.”

  She fell silent and he could almost see the gears turning in her head. She must be coming up with something really…

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  All that thought for that? “Black.”

  “I’m not surprised. It’s a good color for you. Do you listen to country music?”

  This was Evie’s idea of getting to know each other? His earlier hopes of Evie’s depths were being quickly battered down. “No.”

  “Umm…favorite movie?”

  “Shaun of the Dead.”

  “Really?” Her mouth dropped in disbelief.

  “Really. It’s a great movie. Next question.”

  He pulled into her parking space and killed the engine. Evie didn’t wait for him to open her door or hold out her hand for her keys. He couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.

  She fired her next question as they waited for the elevator. “Cats or dogs?”

  “Neither. I’m never home. But you can get one if you like after you settle in.”

  A wistful smile flashed briefly. “How about hobbies?”

  He fought to keep a straight face. “I collect stamps.”

  Evie’s eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open. “You’re kidding me.”

  “Of course I am.” He rubbed his arm where Evie smacked him. “Seriously, Evie, these are the burning questions you have for me?”

  She fiddled with her purse. “I’m trying to get to know you. Since we’re going to be living together…”

  “At least that’s settled.”

  “Did I have much of a choice?” she challenged, an edge creeping into her voice.

  He tried to dull the edge from his own voice even though she was trying his nerves again. Evie barely clutched before she shifted gears. “It’s a free country. I can’t force you to do anything.”

  She snorted as he opened the door to her apartment, and she passed him to go inside. She hung her bag on the back of a chair and leaned her hips against the table. Evie frowned as she ran a hand over a large smudge on the shiny finish.

  Her handprint. The image of Evie on her back, her hair spilling over the table and off the edge, slammed into him, and he no longer cared about silly get-to-know-you questions. The most important knowledge was that the bedroom was only steps away.

  He knew the moment Evie realized what caused that smudge. She jumped up as if she’d been burned. “Wh-what were we talking about? Um…Oh, yeah, um, getting to know each other.”

  Evie moved busily around the room, avoiding eye contact as she straightened magazines and fluffed cushions.

  “Then it’s my turn now to ask you some questions.”

  She cleared her throat. “Of course. My favorite color is blue, and I like dogs and The Sound of Music…”

  Evie might be willing to waste her Q&A time on shallow topics, but he didn’t have that kind of patience. He needed some answers—some truths—and now was as good a time as he was likely to get. “Those were your questions. Not mine.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  And there was that unexpectedly quick shift in gears. From teasing, to turned on, to nervous in less than a minute. Now she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and switched gears again. Hands behind her back and chin up, she faced him as if he was a firing squad. As if she read his thoughts, she smiled weakly. “Fire away.”

  Why did Nick make her so nervous? She felt like a babbling fool half the time—make that most of the time—she tried to have a conversation with him. He’d handed her the golden opportunity to ask him all the questions she’d been storing up, and she’d chickened out. She wanted to know, really know, this enigmatic man she’d married, but she’d defaulted to stupid questions instead because she was a coward.

  Even worse, she had the feeling he knew it.

  Oh, and the look on his face when she’d noticed the smudgy handprint on her table. That only made it worse, because it reminded her how she’d ended up here. How much she wanted him to like her for something more than…ugh. For something more than how they ended up here.

  God, she was pathetic. For a minute there, she’d let herself believe their act; that what they were presenting to Will and Gwen and Uncle Marcus and the rest of Dallas had even a grain of truth in it.

  It was just too easy to lose sight of the reality of their situation when faced with a memory like last night. How Nick made her feel as if…As if this could be real. Even if it wasn’t.

  His voice was hard. “What made you decide to marry me? And what would you have done if I’d said no?”

  Nick obviously didn’t have the same yellow streak running through him that she�
�d recently discovered in herself. He went straight for the tough questions. The kind she didn’t have the guts to ask when they weren’t shouting at each other, and she had an actual chance of getting an answer.

  “I decided to marry you for the same reason you decided to marry me. I’m carrying your baby. It’s pretty straightforward.” She took a deep breath and squeezed her fingers together. “And, honestly, I didn’t have a backup plan.”

  “Because you always get what you want?” There was that mocking tone again.

  If he only knew. “Hardly. It just didn’t occur to me that you’d say no. You seemed like a decent, upstanding guy who’d want to do the right thing for his child—however unplanned it was.”

  That earned her a skeptical look. “Exactly how did you come to this great understanding of my psyche? We didn’t do a whole lot of talking.”

  “Just a feeling I had. But look,” she said, trying to sound upbeat, “I was right. And here we are.”

  A black eyebrow arched up. “And you don’t think this is an enormous mistake?”

  All the time. Definitely every time you look at me like that. That eyebrow, though…It infuriated her at an elemental level she didn’t quite understand. And his tone. He was just like—

  Will. A clarity she wished she’d had much earlier settled on her shoulders.

  Oh, damn it. After ten years of butting heads with her brother, somehow she’d managed to find a man just like Will. And she married him, for goodness’ sake. No wonder…

  Dear God, she needed some serious therapy.

  But if she could handle her brother…Something inside her solidified, and she found her backbone again. It felt good. “Is it?” she challenged. “You tell me.”