Hot Finish (Fast Track #3)(38)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“Suzanne Jefferson. She’ll be flying in on Thursday and spending the weekend with me in my suite.” Ryder sat down and hooked his seat belt. “When we get to Vegas can you make sure there’s champagne and chocolate covered strawberries in the room for Thursday? And tickets to that magic show with that one guy, whatever his name is.”

Suzanne had wanted to see that show when they’d been on their honeymoon, but they had been too late to buy tickets. Getting married on about three minutes’ notice had made it sort of a cobbled together event. But this trip he would get magic show tickets if he had to pay a thousand bucks for them.

“You have events going all on week,” Carol reminded him. “I seriously doubt there’s time for a magic show.”

“Well, pick whichever night has the least going on. Probably Thursday or Sunday night.” He hadn’t confirmed when Suzanne wanted to fly back, but Monday morning made the most sense. That’s when he was going back. “And see if you can get Suz on the same flight back as me on Monday.”

Carol didn’t answer, just typed into her BlackBerry.

“What?” he asked her.

“I didn’t say anything.” She still wasn’t looking at him, but her voice rang with disapproval.

“You think it’s a bad idea to have my ex-wife with me for this trip, don’t you?”

“It’s none of my business,” she said. She was a full foot shorter than him but somehow still intimidating. It was the twenty-five years she had on him, and the narrow glasses. It was like having a teacher send you to the office. “I’m just your assistant, not your PR person.”

“You think I should tell Bill?”

“I think it would be wise,” she said, still typing away, her black glasses sliding down her nose.

Yeah, but it would suck the fun right out of his day. Bill Coughlin saw potential disaster in everything. He didn’t need to know that Suzanne was attending the awards ceremony with him. Nor did he need to know that technically Ryder and Suzanne were still married.

That was just between the two of them.

Just like the amazing sex they were going to share every spare minute of the upcoming weekend.

Pulling his sponsor’s logo ball cap down low over his eyes, Ryder settled back to take a nap and anticipate a wild weekend in Vegas with the woman he still loved.

SUZANNE was in Vegas, for better or for worse. As the car Ryder had sent to the airport pulled up in front of the majestic glass hotel rising out of the desert, she took a deep breath. Six years since she’d been here, a happy and terrified bride. A lot had happened in that time. Hell, this hotel hadn’t even been there then. Ryder had been a young up-and-coming driver, hoping to crack the top twenty. She had been pregnant.

Her stomach suddenly roiled and she swallowed repeatedly, keeping her mouth closed to fight the nausea. Her cheeks went hot and bile churned aggressively in her gut. Flinging a door open before the cab even came to a complete stop, she sucked in the crisp December air and felt her stomach settling down. Jesus. Maybe she wasn’t used to traveling anymore, because waiting at the airport, the long plane ride, and the cab ride had kicked her butt.

Ryder must have been hovering in the doorway because he was suddenly beside her, his welcoming grin slipping off his face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a little carsick. It must be old age.”

Or her gut telling her this was one of her dumbest ideas yet. She and Ryder hadn’t spent more than a few hours in each other’s company since their divorce. Alleged divorce. Presumed divorce. If you didn’t count when they’d spent the night together two weeks earlier. Anyway, the point was, she wasn’t sure they could really handle three days and four nights together.

But clearly there was something compelling her to try it on for size, because she’d packed a bag and put her ass on a jet and flown five hours west. Insanity was the only explanation. Or masochism.

Ryder reached for her hand and helped her out of the car. “You just need some air and a glass of water.”

The gesture was thoughtful and appreciated, but Ryder didn’t let her hand go as he paid the cabdriver and directed the bellman to take her bags. Suzanne felt truly stupid standing there holding hands like a couple of high school kids, or worse, honeymooners. She was thirty-three years old and pseudo-divorced. Holding hands was just dumb.

Ryder didn’t seem to think so. He kept a tight grip on her as he led her to the front doors of the hotel. He even leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I’m glad you came. Thanks.”

Now what exactly was she supposed to say to that? Suzanne hadn’t felt this awkward since her granny had taken her to buy her first bra. “Let’s just try to have fun,” she said with a fair amount of resignation.

Laughing, Ryder swung their hands together as they entered the lobby. “Your enthusiasm is a little out of hand, you should take it down a notch, Suz.”

She could say she was tired from the flight. That her stomach was making her cranky. That she hadn’t slept well. All of which were true. But the greater truth was she didn’t know what the hell they were doing and there was no sense in avoiding that. “Look, I’m sorry, this is weird, Ryder. Don’t tell me it isn’t. I don’t know what the hell we’re doing. A month ago we talked maybe every two weeks and thought we were divorced, now we’re legally still married, we’re doing the nasty, and we’re in Vegas for Champions Week. It’s weird and you know I don’t do weird well.”

Ryder pulled her to a stop in the middle of a very impressive and expansive lobby. Momentarily distracted, Suzanne glanced around her. The hotel was the bomb. Wow. Chic and modern and expensive.

“Suz.” Ryder touched her chin, drawing her attention back to him. “I know it’s weird. I don’t know what we’re doing either. But I’m enjoying spending time with you and I just . . . I just want to make some good memories again, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I do.” She wanted good memories again, too—badly. She wanted easy and relaxing and some small measure of security. Ryder was the familiar and maybe she just needed that right now.

But what she didn’t need was the fool to kiss her in the lobby, sexy bedroom eyes or not, which was what he was about to do. “Alright, let’s hit the pool, if there’s an indoor one. There’s a chaise lounge with my name on it.” She managed to even extract her hand from his to clap her hands together in emphasis, a little chop-chop to get him moving. “What’s our room number?”