His mom watched him for a moment, eyes filled with sadness. “You’re right. He did do that.” Defeated, she looked to Skylar. “What do you want me to do?”
“Not a thing. I told Jinx, and I’ll tell you, people come to me because they’re not happy, they need to make some changes. If you don’t want to do that, then let’s just hang out in Vegas. We’re here for five days. Let’s have some fun.”
Jinx dreaded this conversation, but it had to be done.
He got that Lori felt possessive around Skylar—he had no doubt he was shit at disguising his feelings for her. But I could be persuaded to stay was something more.
He glanced at his phone, waiting to hear back from her. This conversation was going to suck. But it couldn’t be helped. He had to do it.
Because being around Skylar did things to him that shouldn’t happen to a man dating another woman.
They’d spent all day and night checking out casinos and walking the strip. They’d visited the aquarium and the fountains at the Bellagio. After dinner and a show, they’d dropped his mom off and come back to the hotel.
And every minute with Skylar had been physically painful. His feelings for her hadn’t gone away. In fact, they’d come roaring back. Neither he nor his mom were big on conversation, and Skylar had known just when to be quiet and when to engage. She’d asked questions and listened to the answers.
A memory slugged him, and he closed his eyes to fully experience it. They’d been walking through the tunnel, when a shark had come right up to the window. Startled, Skylar had taken a step back and fallen right against him. Jesus, she’d smelled so good—something floral and feminine—and he’d felt a pulse of electricity on his skin. Without even thinking, he’d wrapped an arm around her and…he hadn’t let go.
Worse, she hadn’t pushed away.
For one long moment, he’d gotten to know what her body felt like against his—and it had been bliss.
This isn’t good. He couldn’t go back to the torture of wanting a woman he couldn’t have.
Too late. There was just something about her. She made him think about his future in a way he’d never do with Lori.
Well, it made him think about a lot more than his future.
It made him think about sex.
About her walking into his room with sultry eyes that told him exactly what she wanted—and what she wanted was him. Her body hot, pliant. Her arms reaching for him, wrapping around his neck.
About filling his palms with her breasts, pushing them together, feeling the heavy, soft weight. Trapping his cock between their bodies and grinding against her stomach.
Fucking her against the wall in his hotel room.
Pleasure spiraled through his body, leaving him hard and frustrated, with no outlet.
At the restaurant tonight, he’d had to curl his fingers into a fist to keep from grabbing her thigh under the table and sliding his palm up high enough to see if she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Did she want him?
She’d sure as hell been a lot nicer to him.
And, sometimes, he thought she’d looked at him with longing. With…lust.
Or maybe he was making shit up because he wanted her so fucking badly.
He needed to talk to Lori.
He texted for the third time. Need to talk. You around?
She’d always responded to him right away. She liked to text him throughout the day to let him know she’d been thinking about him.
Lori was…she’s amazing. Cheerful.
But she’s not mine.
His phone vibrated. Lori. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She sounded down. A first for her.
“I haven’t heard from you. Everything all right?”
“Not really.” She let out a huff of breath. “I’m being stupid. I keep seeing the pictures Skylar posts on social media, the three of you together, and I’m jealous.”
He’d been careful about that, always putting his mom between them so he wasn’t touching Skylar. He didn’t want to hurt Lori.
But I’m going to.
“I want to be there with you,” she said. “I want to meet your mom and be the one to take her shopping and get her a make-over.”
He figured she wanted him to say she could come with him next time. But he couldn’t give her that. “Lori—”
“I mean, Skylar’s from Calamity, you know? She comes from a small cowboy town. You probably need someone a little more worldly, someone who knows fashion.”
What? That’s not what we’re doing here at all. “It’s not about fashion. I don’t care what clothes my mom wears as long as they’re not the same ones she wore twenty years ago. I want her to try new things, make friends. I want her to feel better about herself.” He paced to the window, pulling aside the curtain. “Walking around Vegas today drove it all home. My mom took us to all the tourist attractions, and when I asked if she knew of any interesting places to go, she said she didn’t. She hasn’t even been to the Hoover Dam. It just reinforced that she hasn’t explored this city at all. She doesn’t leave her damn condo.”
“Well, I’ve been thinking. What if I fly out there for New Year’s? Forget driving Skylar back. We’ll get her a flight, and you and I can have a long weekend in Vegas. I can bring your mom some clothes and jewelry from the city. Can you imagine her face when she opens up presents from Gucci and Burberry? I could get her some scarves, a handbag. Get me her sizes, and I’ll go wild.”
Jinx leaned against the window, looking down at the bright lights and flashing neon signs of the Strip. “No, don’t do that.”
“No, don’t come out there? Or, no, don’t buy her designer things?”
“I don’t want you to come out here.” In the silence, his skin prickled. He hated hurting her. She was a great, positive person. “Lori, I like you a lot. You’re fun and smart and beautiful, but we’re not on the same page.”
“Page? What does that even mean? What page am I on?”
“You’re talking about showing my work, and me moving to Manhattan.”
“Well, I mean, we can show your work on the west coast, but I think your best chance for a great launch is in the city. But I was thinking—and I actually brought it up with my parents—what if I started a gallery in Owl Hoot?”
The town, a living museum of the late Eighteen-hundreds gold rush days—had an upscale resort and spa. An art gallery would be a good addition to the lobby’s shopping arcade.
Just…not one run by her. “That’s—no, Lori. I don’t want you to do that.”
“I don’t think you realize how talented you are.”
“I like what I do. I like working in the garage with everybody around me. I like talking to the clients and hearing their stories, and I really like seeing their faces when I bring their stories to life on their bikes.”
“Okay, you can still do that, only it wouldn’t be motorcycles. It would be real art. We could do commissions only, where you’d meet the client, hear their story, and create a piece based on that. How cool would that be?”
“Lori.” He let out a breath. “I’m not moving to New York, and I’m not changing my work.”