Me. She came to me. Not her mom, not her friends. Me.
“Will you take me now? Today? Will you help me survive? Not in Enchanted Canyon. I don’t need peace. I need people. Lights. Action. Alcohol. Lots of alcohol. Take me somewhere that I can drink and dance and forget. Somewhere I’m not tempted to get a gun and go Roxie Hart on him.”
“Roxie Hart?”
“Chicago. The musical. ‘Cell Block Tango.’ Please, Tucker. I’ve never been this angry in my entire life. Take me away before I do something I’ll regret!”
Then her dam burst and Gillian began to cry.
Tucker had never earned the rank of general. However, he did master a general’s set of skills. He knew how to adapt his strategy and redeploy his assets amid battle. Therefore, after half a minute of consideration, he said, “Okay, let’s go.”
He grabbed his wallet and phone and, making a spur-of-the-moment decision, the small flat jeweler’s case he kept locked in his desk, and tossed the items into one of his go bags. Slinging the strap of his bag over one shoulder, he flipped the lock on his front door, and then took Gillian’s hand and led her out the back. He drove her home, told her to go inside and pack a bag. When she collapsed on the sofa in misery, he did her packing for her while making the phone calls his plan required. One was to Jackson, arranging care for Peaches. Another was to Jackson’s ex, who’d moved to Redemption at the end of last year and who had more money than sense. She owned a helicopter and had a pilot on call to ferry her to the airport in Austin. Tucker’s relationship with Coco had improved once he’d begun working with Haley on her wilderness skills, so she was happy to help.
Within the hour, they were headed for Austin. Gillian roused herself long enough to ask about her dog, and he explained the arrangements he’d made. By early afternoon, they’d boarded a plane and settled into their first-class seats with the first of the drinks she’d requested. A little less than three hours later, they landed.
Welcome to fabulous Las Vegas.
Chapter Fourteen
Mentally reviewing the past year of her relationship with her ex, Gillian paid scant attention to her surroundings. This had been her first time to ride in a helicopter. Under other circumstances, she would have been excited, maybe a little nervous. Today, she hadn’t cared. She didn’t care how she traveled or where she traveled. All that mattered was that Tucker took her away from Redemption.
Her first Bloody Mary on the airplane took the edge off. The second put her to sleep. She awoke slowly as the plane taxied toward the gate. Hearing the sound of Tucker’s gentle encouragement to awaken, she smiled automatically in response. She was leaning against him, her head resting on his shoulder. He felt so nice.
Then everything came rushing back. Gillian opened her eyes and sat up to find Tucker watching her warily.
She would not break into tears. She was done crying over that man. The sleep and maybe the vodka had helped clear her despair. Yet, she was far from empty of emotion. Gillian was still angry, to the marrow, every cell of her body engulfed, extremely, supremely, profoundly, and murderously pissed.
“That bastard,” she said. “That lowdown, lying, cheating, Arnold Palmer–wannabe bastard. How dare he!”
“Atta girl,” Tucker said with a smile, as relief melted across his face.
The plane arrived at the gate, electronic bells sounded, and passengers began standing and retrieving their belongings from the overhead bins. Gillian gave her head a shake and freed her seat belt. “Gosh, I’m a ditz, but where are we again?”
“Vegas. You wanted lights and action. Can’t get any brighter and busier than Vegas.”
A smile flirted with her lips. “Vegas, huh? Is it still run by the mob? Maybe I could hire a hit man while we’re here.”
Tucker grinned, but shook his head. “You’ll be too busy to look for a killer.”
“I will?” she asked as the door opened and passengers began to file off the plane. Seated in first class, they were one of the first to exit. “What will I be doing?”
“We should have just enough time to check into our suite before you head down to your spa appointment for a massage.”
“A massage! Oh, Tucker, I adore you!” She leaned over and went up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
As they entered the chaos and cacophony of McCarran International Airport, Gillian gave her companion a sidelong, speculative look and thought about sleeping arrangements. He’d said “check into our suite.” Not room. Not rooms, plural. Suite. It could be two bedrooms. He’d paid for first-class airline tickets. The man apparently wasn’t afraid to spend money on this trip.
Tucker didn’t hide the fact that he had a thing for her. He was too much of a gentleman to expect her to sleep with him just because he’d dropped a bundle on last-minute airline tickets. He might, however, try to seduce her. Probably wouldn’t take much. A wicked wink might do the trick. Or a suggestive smile. Shoot, it might be the other way around. Maybe she’d seduce him. She might grab him by the necktie and drag him off to her bed.
Not that Tucker wore neckties. She’d never seen him wear one. As far as she knew, he might not even own one. He’d have worn one when he dressed in uniform, of course. She had a hard time imagining him as Mr. Squared Away Spit and Polish. That was so different from the earthy, native wilderness guy. Bet he cleaned up pretty. Grubby, he was to die for handsome.
She wanted him. She wanted to roll around in the sheets with him until she lay exhausted, out of energy, drained of this red-hot fury churning inside her.
That’s terrible, Gillian. That would be using him. You are not that kind of girl.
Bet he wouldn’t mind.
As they exited the secure side of the airport, a driver waited holding a sign that read T. MCBRIDE. They had no checked luggage, and it dawned on Gillian that they hadn’t stopped by his place to pack anything for him. “You don’t have a suitcase.”
“I’ll pick up what I need. No big deal.”
The driver ferried them to the hotel, the same one where Jackson and Caroline had stayed with Coco and her crew in those terrible days after the plane crash. Afterward, Caroline had raved about the hotel’s luxury, and the kindness the staff had shown during that trying time. Jeremy had taken Gillian to some upscale places, but this was a big step up from anywhere she’d previously stayed.
They didn’t even have to check in but were escorted straight up to their suite. Gillian stood in the center of a small living area, gazing around a little in awe as Tucker murmured something to the bellboy. Then the door shut, and they were alone, and she felt suddenly unsure and awkward.
Tucker said, “It’s two bedrooms, Glory. I didn’t want to assume. I’m going to take the one here on the right, and you are welcome to join me or not. No expectations. No pressure.”
She cleared her throat. “You really are a gentleman, Tucker.” Drat it. “I want you to know I’ll settle up with you at some point. I pay my own way.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He studied her with a long look. “You are wound tighter than a two-dollar watch right now, sweetheart. If I know anything about women, this spa appointment is exactly what the doctor ordered.”