Make Me Melt (17 page)

She opened her eyes and blinked as the bright lights flickered in the dark casino. It was time to focus. Flipping her hair back, Christine tried to remember her to-do list.

She sighed and rolled her eyes in self-disgust. That should have been her first clue that this plan wasn’t going to work. Who made a to-do list for a wild weekend?

Her thoughts only proved that somehow, somewhere, she had lost her impetuous spirit. She hadn’t realized it until she discovered the list of dreams she had written when she had turned eighteen. She really wished she hadn’t found it. Every naive, ridiculous and impractical goal was on that list.

And yet, ten years later, she hadn’t accomplished any of them.
Not one.
The regret weighed heavily on her. Where had all the time gone? What had she been doing? She marched across the casino floor. Was it possible that she had changed so much in ten years? Was she a completely different person now?

Christine stumbled to a halt in the middle of the casino as she considered that question. Was it too late to follow this list? Should she let it go and move on?

No.
Christine raised her chin and rolled back her shoulders. If she were a different person, it wouldn’t have hurt so much to see that list. She would have laughed it off and thrown it away.

Instead, she’d memorized it and decided to take action. It was time to resurrect her wild side and become the bold woman she’d always wanted to be. She was starting it all off with a three-day weekend in Las Vegas so she could have the freedom to try something daring.

She walked by a row of old-fashioned slot machines and paused. Fishing through her backpack, Christine pulled out a crisp dollar bill and fed it through the machine. She pulled the lever, but didn’t feel any excitement as she watched the row of symbols spin and settle.

She lost.

No surprise there. But that was dream number forty-three.
Win money.
She knew why she had written that down ten years ago. Back then she had big dreams and a poorly paid summer position at the bank.

Now she was the manager of that bank.

Christine’s shoulders slumped. That hadn’t been the plan. The plan had been to get out of Cedar Valley and find her passion. She’d failed on both counts. Worse, she had a pristine dream list with nothing checked off.

Her eighteen-year-old self would be horrified.

Her twenty-eight-year-old self wasn’t that impressed, either.

But she was changing that. All she had to do was check off one thing. She could do that in Vegas, where no one would judge her or rein her in.

Christine sat down next to the slot machine as she considered her list. What about number nineteen?
Climb Mount Rainier.
Yeah, that’s in Washington state and she was in Nevada. Perhaps number eight?
Get a tattoo.
No. Christine immediately discarded that idea. It was too permanent. She needed to take a baby step.

Christine reached into her backpack for another dollar. She saw a movement from the corner of her eye and looked up to see a man stride down the aisle of slot machines.

Wow.
Christine’s eyes widened. The man was tall and lean. She was mesmerized by the confident and smooth way he moved. Her gaze went from his scuffed boots and his powerful legs encased in low-riding, faded jeans. She noticed how his dark jacket hung from his broad shoulders and the way his white-collared shirt stretched against his muscular chest.

Christine glanced up and found herself staring. The man did little to control his dark wavy hair and her hands itched to sink into the softness. And then she would trail her fingers along his high cheekbones and angular jaw. She wanted to trace the grooves that bracketed his firm mouth and the lines that fanned from his sparkling brown eyes.

The man flashed a lopsided smile and Christine’s breath hitched in her throat. Excitement bubbled inside her, heating her body and pressing against her skin, ready to burst.

Christine slowly looked over her shoulder, wondering if he was smiling at a pretty waitress or an exotic dancer. No one was behind her.

She frowned and turned around. The handsome stranger stood in front of her. His smile was brighter, a slash of white against his golden-brown skin. He was so tall that she had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes.

“You have so many games to choose from and you try the slot machines?” The man’s husky voice sent a thrill down her spine. “Where’s the challenge in that?”

Why did that sound like a metaphor of her life? Christine cautiously returned his smile. “It doesn’t require any skill.”

“It’s also the simplest way to lose money.” He leaned against the machine. “The odds aren’t in your favor.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” She nervously shifted in her seat and felt the short hem inch up. “I don’t think the casino will offer a sure thing.”

“Depends on what you’re looking for.”

Christine saw the gleam of interest in his eyes. She dragged air into her lungs as her skin felt tight and flushed.

No, no, no.
She shouldn’t entertain this idea. He was just chatting with her. He wasn’t flirting. He wasn’t suggesting he was a sure thing. That was just wishful thinking on her part.

Anyway, hot sex was not on her list. There was no mention of a fling or a one-night stand.

But that didn’t stop her from allowing her gaze to drift down his body. There should be something about sex on her dream list, she thought as she bit down on her bottom lip. Something impossibly wild. A fantasy that would rock her world.

In fact, there was no reason why she couldn’t add this sexy stranger to the list.

“I’m Christine.” She held out her hand and belatedly realized her formal manner.

He wrapped his large, calloused hand around hers. He was big. Strong and masculine. She hoped he didn’t feel the fluttering pulse at her wrist.

“Travis.”

Hello, Travis. Otherwise known as number one hundred and one: have a weekend fling.

She froze as the words tumbled in her mind.
One hundred and one.
This was a mistake. How could she add him to the list when she hadn’t crossed anything off? Was she trying to sabotage her goals the moment her vacation started?

Christine reluctantly withdrew her hand from his grasp. She immediately missed the warm, masculine touch, but she tightly folded her hands on her lap.

She wasn’t going to get distracted from her dream list. Especially not with a man. She couldn’t let that happen again.

Copyright © 2014 by Jasmine Communications, LLC

ISBN-13: 9781460331293

MAKE ME MELT

Copyright © 2014 by Karen Foley

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