Shirley Valentine Goes to Vegas. Michelle Betham
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just got to take a risk. And this could have been one of those times.’
I sighed. ‘I’m not looking for any kind of relationship, Finn, you know that.’
‘He asked you out, sis. He didn’t propose.’
He put his arm around my shoulders again and I hugged his waist tight as we walked. ‘It just all feels a bit… I dunno. Odd. Surreal.’
‘Truthfully, did even the tiniest part of you want to say yes to him?’ Finn asked.
‘Yeah. It did. It really did.’
‘Then you should have gone with your gut, girl.’
‘I know,’ I sighed, because regret was kicking in big-time now.
‘I mean, what happened to that fun-loving, kick-ass woman you told me you were gonna become? I thought you were someone who was determined to take life by the balls and live it.’
‘I am. It’s just… it’s still hard for me, sometimes, to get my head around the fact that this is me now. You know what I was like before, and this – this is so different.’
Finn flashed me a huge grin. ‘Yeah, but just remember how boring your life was before you started hanging out with me again.’
I smiled at him, knowing he was kind of right. But my life hadn’t been that bad before. It just hadn’t been the life I’d wanted in the end. ‘Even if I was looking to start all that dating crap again, Finn, I’m not sure… Look, all of this is pointless. I said no, he’s gone, it’s over.’
Finn gave my hand a little squeeze. ‘You’ve still got me.’
‘Yeah. I’ve still got you.’ I leant over to kiss his cheek. ‘And I’ve still got this weekend in Vegas.’
But what kind of weekend could it have been? The chance to find out was gone now. I’d blown it. Whoever Eddie Fletcher was, I’d probably never see him again. And that was nobody’s fault but my own.
Pulling the hem of my dress, which I still thought was a little too short, down over my thighs, I quickly looked around as I waited for the elevator to arrive. Black, strapless, and just about skimming my arse, I couldn’t deny I loved the way it made me feel, despite its slightly daring length. I’d teamed it with knee-high, black, spike-heeled boots, which made my legs look pretty much incredible, even if I did say so myself, and with my long blonde-and-black hair hanging in large, loose curls down my back, my make-up all dark eyes and pale lips, those tattoos I was so proud of all on show, I felt every inch the wannabe biker chick I’d always dreamt of becoming. I was slowly getting used to the fact that I could scrub up pretty well for a woman about to hit forty. I still had it, and I was damn well going to make sure I flaunted it, while I still could.
Taking a quick peek in the full-length mirror on the wall beside the elevator, I studied my reflection carefully. The woman staring back at me was one I still wasn’t all that familiar with, but I was getting a little more used to her as each day passed. And a lot of that was down to Finn. He’d made me realise it wasn’t a crime to change, if that was what you needed to do. He’d given me a strength and a confidence I’d never had before, and I loved him so much for that. So much. Because, without him, I wasn’t sure I’d be where I was right now.
As the elevator doors slowly slid open I pulled the hem of my dress down again, wiggling my hips slightly to help it on its way.
‘Whoa!’
That voice, accompanied by a long, low whistle, made my head shoot up and I could have died of embarrassment as I saw him standing there, leaning back against the handrail. Eddie Fletcher. Bold as brass and twice as hot as I remembered him being a few hours ago. Shit! I wasn’t prepared for this. I mean, it was like all my prayers were being answered now, bumping into him again after I’d spent the entire afternoon berating myself for letting him go. But a little bit of warning would have been nice.
‘Looking good there, darlin’.’
Jesus! That accent! I’d never found a Glaswegian accent sexy before. Never. But on this guy it was like honey dripping off a hot crumpet…
What the hell was I talking about?
I quickly brushed down my dress, shook out my hair, and walked into the elevator, displaying what I hoped was an air of confidence, which was more difficult than it should have been thanks to boots I wasn’t quite used to walking in yet.
Leaning back against the rail beside him, I watched as the doors slid shut, neither of us saying anything for a second or two. But I was more than aware of my heart picking up a rhythm that was faster than I’d have liked it to be.
‘Where’re you heading?’ he asked, taking his hand out of his pocket and hovering his finger over the buttons on the wall to his left.
‘Ground floor.’ It was taking every ounce of strength I had to keep my voice steady. I hadn’t expected to see this man again, and yet, here we were, sharing an elevator. Just the two of us. Was I going to mess up a second time? I wasn’t planning on it.
He pulled his hand away, shoving it back in his pocket. ‘Me too.’
I took a sneaky sideways look at him. He wasn’t dressed all that differently to how he had been when I’d seen him earlier, still wearing those battered jeansand biker’s jacket, and those heavy black boots I found strangely sexy.
As he took his left hand out of his pocket again, raking it through his hair, I tried to see if he was wearing a wedding ring, and then quickly turned away as I realised I was probably staring. Again.
‘I’ve never been married,’ he said, as though reading my mind, which made me squirm slightly. Was I that transparent? Still, at least that was one question answered. ‘Never felt the need.’
I turned my head to look at him again, and he was smiling at me, a smile I really liked because it reached his eyes – those beautiful, dark eyes… I really had to get a grip here. I was in Las Vegas. This place didn’t exactly epitomise reality, and what was happening here, this wasn’t real. And even if the invitation to go out with him was still open, which I had yet to find out, in a few days’ time he’d be heading back to wherever he came from, and I’d be on my way back to England. That was the reality of the situation. So was it even worth me telling him I’d changed my mind? That I would, after all, like to go out with him? And what if he’d already found a woman more willing to take him up on his offer? It wouldn’t surprise me if he had.
‘What about you?’ he asked, his voice pulling me back to the here and now. ‘You never did answer my question earlier. When I asked if you had a boyfriend.’
I dropped my gaze, his question making Adam and my past life come rushing back to the forefront of my mind – a place I’d wanted to try and keep both well away from.
‘I’m divorced,’ I replied, the words falling from my mouth before I could stop them, my eyes back on his. ‘Finalised a few days ago.’ He hadn’t really needed to know that. And I had no idea why I’d told him.
It was his turn to lower his gaze, his hair falling down over his eyes as he dropped his head. Once more I felt the strangest feeling flood through me, something I couldn’t really explain, it just felt – I don’t know – like there was some invisible spark between us that kept firing off little shots of, well, it was like a heady mixture of excitement tinged with fear and… I was confusing myself now. It just felt – it felt nice. Really nice. Different.
‘I’m sorry.’ He looked back up, pushing his hair away from his face. ‘I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, I just… I guess I let my mouth run away with me, huh?’
I smiled. I couldn’t help it. Once more he was just making me feel like smiling, and I wasn’t fighting that. ‘It’s okay. We’d been separated for a while and…’ I stopped talking, because this really was information he didn’t need to know. And I really didn’t want to talk about it.
He