Rough and Tumble (5 page)

Yet Sofia had known better. Molly had a wild streak
this
wide in her, but she never could let it go full force. She flirted with it, sure. She tested the waters of crazy. But she'd never gone all the way, so when she'd engaged with the biker at the bar today, Sofia had
almost
expected something to happen. Molly had to bust out at some point, and after the stressful month she'd had at the job . . .

But it hadn't happened today. Just like at the beach, she'd turned and run. Sofia was actually relieved Molly's mojo moment hadn't been with a biker, though. Jeez, just imagine. Besides, there'd be ample opportunity in Vegas with a more appropriate guy—an architect who drove a sports car or something.

The biker dude took a glance around the room, as if he was looking for something . . . or someone. Molly? Did he even seem a little disappointed at her not being here?

But then he jerked his chin toward Hooper. “Room for one more?”

Hooper smiled and pointed toward a chair in the corner. The biker dragged it over and set it next to the dealer.

What was it about this guy that made Sofia keep looking? For one thing, she'd never pictured a biker who came off like he did. They were supposed to be men with craggy faces and frizzy ponytails. This guy was too cute to be a biker. If you shaved off his stubble, he might even have the face of the bad boy in high school who sat in the back of the classroom and left you a note one day to meet him under the bleachers. And you'd darned well do it.

But he had a very adult swagger, with a lean-and-mean way of walking that exuded cockiness and stealth at the same time. He was all attitude, and he wore it like beaten leather.

Before slipping into the chair, he reached into his back pockets and pulled out a phone and a pack of cigarettes, tossing them on the table.

No one had said a word yet. They were subtly exchanging glances, as if their twee vacation poker game had suddenly gotten serious.

Sofia checked in with Arden, angling her head toward the bar door.
Time to dust out of here?

Arden gave her a glance.
Not intimidated, babe
.

Have it your way
.

After the players anted up, then received their cards, Arden settled in, a stoic expression on her face. Sofia was impressed with how she'd suddenly become the frostiest player at the table.

Except for the biker. He lost the first few hands to Rhonda and then her husband, but he didn't fret. Arden didn't, either, and she ended up winning the next two.

Okay. She seemed sober and able-minded. That was good.

After twenty minutes of Arden holding her own, Sofia decided that her girl could
play
. She had a pile of chips in front of her, second only to Rhonda's.

No worries here.

A text from Molly came through on Sofia's phone.

OMG. Friend set me up for phone interview tomorrow.

OK if I sit in general store to do research on new firm?

Sofia almost squeed. This was just what Molly needed, and if she could get this career stuff out of the way before they got to the Strip? Awesome.

Yes! Research to ur heart's content. Will let u know when

we r done here . . .

This was going to be the best trip ever, and Molly would turn out fine. Sofia just knew it.

As Molly texted back a smiley, Hooper started clearing the cards from the table, grinning at Molly's biker. “Looks like your luck deserted you after your ladies skedaddled this afternoon.”

All right
, Sofia thought.
Maybe things aren't so great for
everyone
.

The biker shrugged, and Tourist Jerry spoke, totally drunk from the few beers he'd imbibed after the great many he'd had at the bar.

“Thass right. You had ladies all over you an hour or two ago.”

After sending Hooper a thanks-a-lot smile, the biker casually glanced around, as if looking for someone in particular again, slumping into his chair when he didn't find them.

Maybe Sofia was reading too much into this, but . . . nah. He had to know that Molly wasn't his type.

Hooper continued ribbing him. “Cash here never fails to sweep into town and woo all the ladies.”

You don't say?
thought Sofia. She was prouder than ever that her friend had been the woman who'd denied him.
Hah. Point for the ladies.

“If I were single,” Hooper added, “I'd thank God above that Cash isn't around on a permanent basis, because I'd never have a chance at romance. Even my wife giggles when he talks to her.”

“Your wife's too much of a lady to giggle,” Cash said.

“Spoken like a gentleman . . . at least when it comes to my wife.” Hooper began to shuffle again.

Arden talked to Cash. “You don't live here in town?”

“Not quite,” Cash said while everyone tossed chips in the center of the table.

When he didn't elaborate, Hooper took up the conversation. “Aw, he comes and he goes. Depends on where the under-the-table construction work is and where it's not. Now, I say that's the life. Freedom, the open road taking you wherever you want to be. Cash has got it made.”

“If my luck doesn't change,” Cash said as Hooper dealt the cards, “I'll be on the open road before you know it.”

Arden laughed. “I'd hate to see that. Your chips look so good in my pile.”

Smiling slightly, the man barely picked up his cards from the table, peeking under the edge of them, then putting them back, facedown. Most of the others kept a hold of their cards, even Arden, as if they didn't want to part with them.

“If I run out of chips,” Cash said, “I might have to do some bartering here.”

“I'd take your ride any day of the week,” Hooper said. “Care to put that on the table?”

Cash sat a bit straighter, but he smoothed out so quickly that Sofia wasn't sure if he was ticked off.

“Then,” he said, “I'm happy you're not in the game, Hoop.”

“True enough,” Hooper said as everyone tossed their bets down. “Honest to God, though, I doubt there's anything anyone here could offer that would even match up to those wheels.”

“Don't know about that,” Cash said, exchanging two of his cards. “There were certain covetable sights in the bar today I'd consider.”

“Like what?”

Sofia had already gone on alert, because he slid a glance at her, grinning slightly, then fixed his gaze on Arden, who seemed utterly spaced as to the direction the discussion was taking.

Cash finally answered, addressing Arden and ignoring Sofia's prickliness. “Well, for one, I'd consider a better introduction to your friend. If we were bartering, that is.”

Finally, Arden got it. She frowned, then looked at Sofia and back at Cash. “My friend?”

“I believe her name's Molly.”

A second passed. Two. Three. And no one at that table said anything—not until Hooper let out a howling laugh and slapped Cash on the back.

“Way to mess with our guests,” Hooper said. Then his smile disappeared. “Stop with that kind of talk.”

It was only when the biker smiled again that everyone else relaxed, including Sofia. She'd thought he was serious, but obviously . . .

He'd been kidding. Of course he was.

Still, as she relaxed, she tried to decide what Cash had meant by a “better introduction.” Was he hinting that Arden could pimp Molly out if she ran out of money to bet?

Arden was shooting her another look that was just as questioning.
That was a moment, wasn't it?

Sofia raised her eyebrows.
Slightly. Now win and let's get out of here
.

A half hour later, Arden's pile was still healthy, and when they called a break, Sofia dragged herself off her stool and went to the table before Arden headed for the private bathroom down the hall.

“So you're ahead. Ready to scram? Molly's at the general store waiting for us.” She'd fill Arden in about the job thing later.

Arden's gaze was giddy. “I am on
fire
. Can't you see that?”

“Good time to walk away,
then. Don't you think?” Boy, what she'd give to be in their room by now, getting ready for dinner. Her stomach was already grumbling with thoughts of the buffet they were supposed to attack tonight.

Arden squeezed Sofia's shoulders. “Indulge me. That's why we're in Vegas, isn't it? For decadence. For not being on any schedule. For throwing caution to the wind and seeing how far luck can take us.”

Looked like Arden was only getting started. But how long could a private game last?

“All right,” Sofia said. “Just another thirty minutes. Then we're out.”

Arden started to protest, but Sofia raised a finger and gave her friend some of her own medicine. Through the years, Sofia had learned to imitate Arden's teacher look, which had quelled so many twelve- and thirteen-year-olds in her professional career.

“Okay, okay,” Arden said, heading for the bathroom when she saw Rhonda walking out of it.

Resigned, Sofia wandered back to the bar out front, which had collected a few new tourists, who were quietly watching a TV situated in the corner of the ceiling, drinking their beers.

Claiming a seat by them, Sofia gave in to the lure of vintage
Miami Vice
—pastels, flamingos, speedboats, and Don Johnson. Her eyelids grew heavy as Tubbs and Crockett did all their narcotics bustin'.

That's the last thing she remembered before she rested her head on the bar. Then . . .

Hands on her shoulders. Shaking her awake—

She jumped in her seat to the sight of a busier bar and Arden, the short red hair near her face damp with sweat, her blue eyes wide as she gripped Sofia.

“Shit, Sof,
shit
. Wake up!”

“What?” She got to her feet, groggy, holding on to Arden's arms for balance. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it would explode. “What's going on?”

Arden swallowed, shaking her head. “God, I did something bad. Goddammit, something really, really bad.”

When Sofia saw Cash in the entrance to the back hallway behind Arden, leaning against the wall with a smug grin on his whiskered face, it took her a moment to process.

But slowly, very, very slowly, her stomach sank as she realized what Arden had done.

“You lost me in a poker game?”

Molly leaned back against a wall in the saloon's courtyard, where Sofia and Arden had pulled her out of the general store a few minutes ago. Everything they'd just told her hadn't solidified in her brain yet. All their words sat there like cracked eggs gelling on a white counter, running all over the place.

Ten-thousand-dollar bet . . . Lost . . . Arden in trouble with that guy Cash . . . He made an offer for you, Molly . . .

But as the seconds passed, the dry heat finally started to fry her thoughts. Or maybe it was her temper doing the frying.

No, wait. She was too gobsmacked to be mad. And too . . .

Excited? But that'd be perverse. Weird. Totally outside normal.

Meanwhile, Sofia looked about ready to strangle Arden, who was sitting on a wooden bench near a fire pit, her shoulders hunched, her toned arms crossed over her chest.

“Tell Molly all of it!” Sofia was a tiny thing, but right now she loomed over Arden. “Tell her every single detail about how you became her pimp!”

Arden flinched. “Harsh, Sof.”

“
Harsh
is a very kind word for what I'm feeling,” Sofia said, her side ponytail waving as she shook her finger in front of Arden's face. When she got angry, a hint of her Filipino accent came out, too. “Come on, tell her.”

Molly was still back at the word
pimp
. This couldn't be happening. Maybe she was still drunk and her thought process was on the blink. Or maybe she was flying high from the phone call she'd taken from Jennifer Dengle, her former coworker who had that job lead for her. To think that, only minutes ago, Molly had been on Cloud 9, looking forward to giving her contact at the new accounting firm a call tomorrow. Then she'd come back to
this
. Crazy Pimp Land.

Arden wore a hangdog expression. “It's just that things were going so well in the poker game that I got overconfident, and I let my mouth run off. I made a bet that I can't afford in a million years because I was so sure that there was no way I could lose. Then . . .”

Sofia jumped in. “You did lose. I knew I should've stayed in that room to babysit.”

“It had nothing to do with you,” Arden said, slumping even more. “I'm an adult and I've played in a game or two, but this Cash guy . . . he's good. He had us all fooled—even Lucky Midwest Rhonda.”

Who was that? The only other woman who'd been at the table? Whatever, it didn't matter, because the first thing Sofia had told Molly was that Arden had bet Danger Man ten thousand stinking dollars, and when she'd lost, he'd come up with this . . . this . . . indecent proposal.

Arden scooted forward on the bench. “Mol, you don't have to do anything, okay? It's not like in those old historical romance books where the heroine's drunkard daddy bets his daughter in a card game and the hero wins her and she
has
to go off with him to his dark mansion on the hill.”

Sofia interrupted. “Actually, it is kind of like that. Tell Molly how he phrased his offer.”

Arden's voice started to shake. “After he wiped me out, he offered to forgive my debt if I arranged for him to have some . . . ‘time' with you, Molly. But I didn't tell him yes, I swear I didn't.”

Wait. Some
time
with her? What exactly did that word mean? And why did she have the feeling that Cash's definition of
time
wouldn't be found in any dictionary she'd ever read?

Arden pushed back her short red hair from her damp face. “The guy isn't asking for sex or anything, just—”

“Her company for the night,” Sofia broke in. “That's what else he said. Yeah, that totally sounds like someone who wouldn't have sex on his mind at all. Besides, you saw how he looked at Molly in the saloon earlier and how he talked about her when he first mentioned this deal at the table.”

Molly's ears perked up. “He talked about me?” Yes, it was a strange question, and she had no idea where it'd come from.

“Mol,” Sofia said, “you realize that he wasn't quizzing us about what you'd say if he asked you to the sixth-grade dance, right? This is serious.”

Sofia shot eye lasers at Arden again as Arden pressed her lips together. Through a haze, Molly almost felt sorry for her. Almost. This wasn't like when Arden had accidentally texted one of Molly's onetime dates from Molly's phone, a situation that'd ended up with the guy at Molly's door in the wee hours, expecting a booty call. This was much worse.

But the most awful part of everything was that, under all Arden's remorse, she was anxious. Ten thousand dollars' worth of anxious, too, because she owed all that money to a biker in some deviant bar they'd stumbled into. And as for Sofia, she was only being hard on Arden because she was scared for her friends.

Molly eased away from the wall and looked at Sofia. “Arden can't be left hanging on the line for that money. We all know that.”

“Right,” Sofia said. “Jeez, I wish there was a solution that wasn't so skeezy.”

Was his offer skeezy? Maybe. But what if this was also . . . well, the slightest bit flattering? Oy, was that even a good word for it? Because Molly's tummy was doing a circus act again, her pulse churning just from the thought of him running his gaze up and down her body. Just from the memory of how his low, deep, rough voice had raked over her and made her tremble.

Maybe she was an even bigger mess than Arden.

She glanced at her, finding Arden wearing the sorriest expression Molly had ever seen. Pleading blue eyes. Apologetic frown. Just-punch-me slouch.

Sofia addressed the sad sack. “Did it ever occur to you that Molly left her job because her boss was sexually harassing her? Isn't there some kind of cruel irony in that?”

Molly cut in. “The difference is that Genhaven thought he wasn't giving me a choice in the matter.”

As if not believing what she'd just heard, Sofia took a step back toward the burn-scarred fire pit. “You're fine with this? What the heck, Mol?”

Molly couldn't believe she'd said it, either, but it was true. She had a choice here. And the fact was that she was amazed anyone would put up thousands of dollars to be around her. Forget the details, the notion kind of made her day.

But Sofia was right. Fantasy was fantasy, and this was reality.

Molly strengthened her voice. “I'm only saying that I do see the irony here, Sof. I was a
thing
to Genhaven, a toy to paw at. Maybe that's how our friendly biker is operating, too, but we have to face the problem that Arden's in trouble, and I'm the solution.”

“So you're gonna screw him,” Sofia said.

Hearing it out loud jolted Molly, twisting and turning deep and low. A primal tug made her a little damp between her legs, as if it was trying to pull something out of her that'd been repressed forever.

“No, of course I'm not going to have sex with him,” she said with a dismissive laugh.
Definitely not.

“Then what's your plan?”

“I'll just have a chat with him to see what can be arranged. He had to be kidding when he asked Arden to set up some time with me anyway. I mean, who does that?”

Sofia pressed her hands to her head like she wanted to tear out her hair. “Hello. Vegas? What are you not understanding here?”

As Molly looked at both of her friends, she could read the worry on them. But she was the last person on earth who'd ever do something like trade sex for money.

Even if the thought kicked a tiny, taboo
bling
down her core.

“What if,” Molly said, “he's only talking about a date? A drink? Something not quite as psychotic as the worst-case scenario we've whipped up in our heads?”

Sofia shook her head as Molly went on.

“If that's the case, meeting with him in public isn't any more of a danger than going on one of those computer dates I've suffered through too many times before. I never knew what I was really getting into then, either.”

“I'm pretty sure what you'd get now,” Sofia said.

The truth was, Molly was pretty sure, too, and her breath caught in her lungs. But was she that curious about what a safe date with Cash Danger would be like?

Yeah. She was curious. Achingly so.

She gave them a no-arguments look. “That settles it, then. Since he merely said he wants the pleasure of my company, I'll set up a public meeting where he can spend that time with me. After that, Arden's debt can be cleared.”

“Maybe,” Arden said, “I should go to the cops to work this out. It was an illegal game, and I'll accept the consequences.”

“No,” Molly said. “Let's not go overboard. I'll talk to the guy and reason with him first. I'll even offer him a payment plan before addressing any kind of date, okay? Everything will work out, you'll see.”

Wow, she sounded like a boss who had everything under control. Where had
she
come from?

Sofia burst her bubble. “Let me get this straight—he'd be spending ten thousand dollars for a drink with you? Molly, I love you dearly, but he's going to want his money's worth.”

Arden leaned forward, spiking her fingers through her hair and closing her eyes, losing hope.

Sofia sent Arden a look that reminded Molly of how her own mom, back before the car accident that'd claimed her and Dad, used to gaze at their daughter after she'd done something very wrong and stupid.

“I'm so damned angry at you,” Sofia said to her. Then she aimed that worried stare at Molly.

Arden looked up with puppy-dog eyes. “I swear, I will never, ever get anyone into this kind of situation ag—”

The door behind Molly had creaked open, letting out an air-conditioned breeze, and all of them stiffened, turning around.

Cash stood there in all his glory.

It was as if every one of Molly's senses was tuned in to him and his too-long, untamed brown hair and his green, green eyes. In a ridiculously short time, she'd become addicted to the way her blood pounded in all the expected spots around him . . . as well as the unexpected ones.

The tribal drumbeat in her ears. The trapped flutter of a vein in her neck. The muted throb in her clitoris, getting stronger each second . . .

Arden broke the moment by standing up so fast that her bench moaned over the concrete. She went to Molly's side, as if she were protecting her. Sofia scuttled over to Molly's other side, looking as fierce as a tiny warrior could.

Cash let the door shut behind him, then leaned against the door frame. Just as if he weren't the cause of a crapstorm, he coolly reached into his back pocket and brought out his cigarettes, along with that Bettie Page lighter.

He tapped out a cigarette and stuffed the pack into a front pocket.

Arrogant.
That's the word that came to mind now as Molly watched him with a narrowed gaze.

“Well?” Sofia finally said to him.

He put a cigarette in his mouth and gave her a lowered glance. When he shifted his gaze to Molly, he grinned, the cigarette bobbing in his mouth.

Everything he did was sex. Foreplay had nothing on just a glance from him, and she couldn't help imagining him lowering her to a mattress with satin sheets hushed with Vegas neon, easing his length over her, nudging open her legs with a knee, and . . .

A sharp jerk of lust made Molly fidget with the side of her sundress. Bad habit, back from when she'd been young and dressed in her sister's used clothes. Now the embarrassment of being scrutinized was more intense than ever, and Cash seemed to notice.

She stopped with the fidgeting.

He nodded to her friends and spoke from around the cigarette. “I see you all have talked the matter over.”

Sofia piped up again. “‘The matter'? Is that what you call it?”

He didn't seem amused at her backtalk, and Molly leaned into Sofia, encouraging her to keep the peace.

Lighting his cigarette, he sucked until the end flared red, then took it out, holding it between two fingers. He blew out smoke and spoke to Arden.

“We good?”

Arden started to talk, but Molly thought she should handle this.

“My friends were about to go to the general store,” she said. “Guys?”

Sofia whipped her gaze to her, and Molly raised her eyebrow.
I've got this
.

But did she really?

Sofia didn't seem so sure of that, either, but Molly motioned in back of them, toward the general store, and both Sofia and Arden slowly left the courtyard. As they opened the door, Arden offered one last contrite glance.

Then they were alone—Molly and the man who wanted some “time” with her.

He was enjoying his smoke, watching her with that sly grin, daring her to say something. Her skin prickled with heat and emerging sweat, and she was certain it wasn't only because of the stifling weather.

“I'm dying out here,” she said, fanning herself. She walked toward the saloon door.

He was in the process of blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth again, and before she could think about what she was doing, she stopped right next to him and said, “Is that really necessary?”

“What?”

“Poisoning yourself.” She didn't know where she got the chutzpah, but she reached up and plucked the cigarette away from him.

At first, he just stared at her. She got ready to run because maybe this was the moment he would turn into a real biker dude and actually cut her.

Then his grin returned, and he laughed. Unfortunately, it was the kind of laugh that let her know that she'd better not do anything like that again.

Point taken.

“You must still be drunk from the whisky,” he said.

Maybe she was. “It's only that I don't . . .” She was about to say “date smokers.” But she wouldn't be going on a real date with this guy. “I'd like to be around some clean air, if it's all the same to you.”