“It wouldn’t matter,” Gram said with a grin. “He’d still only have eyes for our girl.”
They finished lunch and while Nana and Gram invited Libby to walk the strip, Libby turned them down. “I think I’ll grab my camera and see what I can find to photograph.”
The two women left and Noah and Libby went up to their room. Noah opened his laptop and studied the screen, his leg bouncing as he read.
“Noah, why are you so nervous?”
He looked up at her and blinked. “What? I’m not nervous. Just a regular meeting.”
He was lying. Why was he lying?
All the doubts from earlier came rushing back. She knelt in front of him. “I need you to promise me something, okay?”
“Anything, Lib,” he answered with an earnestness she was still getting used to.
“I need you to promise to tell me the truth. You know I’ve had a history with men who have been untruthful. I need to know I can trust you.”
“You have to know I’d never purposely hurt you.”
“I know, but this is a deal-breaker for me, Noah. I need you to always tell me the truth.”
He looked into her eyes, an uncharacteristic seriousness setting into his jaw. “I will. I promise.”
“Thank you.”
He pushed out a breath. “This deal is important. I’ve been talking to this guy in Seattle and getting the runaround. I found out he’s here, so I’m hoping to seal the deal this afternoon. With the merger . . . the business needs this.”
She kissed him and smiled. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Why would you hide that from me?”
“I don’t want you to worry.”
“Noah, we’re married now. If you’re nervous, then it’s my job to worry. Just like it’s your job to be nervous when we go to New York for my exhibit.”
He pulled her onto his lap, evoking a surprised laugh from her. “You’ve decided to finish your project?”
She grinned. “Let’s just say this morning’s photography session inspired me.”
He lifted his eyebrows in mock recrimination. “I know it’s a New York exhibit and they’re much more liberal there, but I strongly discourage using the photos of my penis, no matter how impressive they are.”
She laughed. “You’ve ruined my theme. I planned to photograph the penises of men all over the country. I could group them by region. Or would it be better to organize them by length?”
“The only penis I plan to let you near is mine.” He looked up from his laptop. “And if I had more time, I’d let you get even closer to it now.”
“Later,” she murmured.
“I know we’ve paid for the room tonight, but I’d still like to go home this evening if it’s okay with you. I’ll book us tickets when I get back from the meeting.” He grinned. “But there will be plenty of time for you to get reacquainted with my penis before we go.”
She laughed. “Sounds perfect.”
He stood and set her on her feet. “Wish me luck.”
She gave him a kiss. “Good luck, my love.”
“You’re all the luck I need.” He gathered his laptop and put it into his bag. “Are you sure you’re okay by yourself?”
She picked up her camera bag. “I’m fine. I’m going to explore outside the hotel. I have some ideas about capturing the fountains at the Bellagio.”
He grabbed her left hand and kissed her wedding ring. “Flash this at any man who gets within six feet of you.”
She laughed.
“You think I’m joking. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known and I’m not the only one who notices. When we get home I plan to get you a huge-ass diamond to blind any man who comes near you.”
She tried to keep a straight face. “Huge-ass. I think I heard they added that to the list of diamond sizes.”
He looked into her eyes, all teasing gone. “I love you, Libby.”
That caught her attention. “Noah, what aren’t you telling me?”
He hesitated and then flashed her a smile. “In full disclosure, my apartment is a total bachelor pad. I think I even left dirty laundry on the floor when I was throwing my clothes around in my haste to pack. I hope it doesn’t scare you off.”
“Just take me home and we’ll sort it all out when we get there.”
He gave her one last look, the seriousness in his eyes scaring her, and left the room.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The beauty of Las Vegas was it was warmer than Kansas City, but the wind still nipped through the weave of Libby’s sweater. She hugged it tight, wishing Noah was with her to keep her warm. But she knew this meeting was more important than he was letting on. Why hadn’t he told her about it sooner? When had he found out the guy was in Vegas?
She lingered in front of the fountains, waiting for them to turn on. She knew they were on timers, but they seemed to be lagging behind.
While she waited, she photographed people on the strip and found herself concentrating on couples. There were two distinct groups—those who were simply there together and those who wanted to be with their significant others. The ones in the former group filled her with sadness. With one couple, the husband wore a look of irritation while his wife stared at him with a yearning that broke Libby’s heart. But there were others. A wife on her phone while her husband lagged behind. And another couple that had clearly had a recent argument—the wife in tears, her husband with a set jaw and a hard look in his eyes.
But the couples in love filled her with hope. Those couples had to touch each other in some way, even if only with their eyes. She watched as a couple in their forties stopped next to the fountains, probably waiting for them to turn on. The wife wore a light jacket and shivered when the wind gusted, so her husband pulled her into his arms. After wrapping his jacket around her back, he kissed her gently. The moment reminded her so much of her and Noah during their visit to the Czechoslovakian egg. Other than the kissing, had they looked like that? She remembered his gentleness and realized he’d already known he loved her. He’d planned that entire day out of love for her. How had she been so blind?
The familiar insecurities rushed in out of nowhere—her worn, faithful companions. They whispered into her ear, telling her that she was doomed, that she couldn’t keep Noah’s love. And maybe it was true. So many men—men she’d never even loved—had left her. And if her string of lost lovers wasn’t proof enough that she might be unlovable, her parents were icing on the cake. Her mother may have been physically present in her life, but she’d always made it clear that Libby was more of a nuisance than a blessing. And her father had left her when she was a baby.
And then he’d left a second time.
The memory she’d never shared with anyone—not Megan, not Blair, and not even her mother—washed over her, sickening in its clarity.
He showed up at their front door one day after Libby came home from school. Her mother was still at work. She wasn’t supposed to answer the door when her mother wasn’t home, but she recognized him from the photo she kept in her underwear drawer. She pulled it out often enough that she would have recognized him anywhere, even if he now had wrinkles around his eyes and streaks of gray in his dark hair. She’d dreamed of this day since she was little. In her fantasy, her dad would show up and tell her that he’d never intended to leave her for so long. He’d been kept from her by some overpowering force—he’d been in a coma, or he’d been lost on a deserted island, or he’d been held prisoner by pirates—and now that he’d come to his senses he’d searched high and low for his little girl.