Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“But not you.”
“No,” I agree. “I like to linger.”
“Because the Sunrise is better?”
“Maybe, but it’s more than that. It’s all the people coming and going, like there’s always someone starting their trip, always someone ending it. I don’t know, it’s like the casino is a tiny microcosm of life, like it’s constantly in a state of change.”
He looks curious at he touches a finger to his lips. “That’s an interesting way of looking at it.”
“I know it’s silly, it’s just, I’ve always loved the casinos. All the lights, the color, the action. I don’t even enjoy gambling all that much. The business has just always fascinated me.”
“I can tell you more, if you want. About my high roller.”
I shift closer to him. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“He was an oil baron from Texas. Loud guy. Brought with him a dozen cousins and best friends, all of them bankrolled. You know what we do with a crowd like that?”
“Ply them with drinks.”
“Exactly.” I can practically hear his smile. “Get them drunk. Keep them rolling, keep the cards flipping. The casino operates with an edge, and the longer they play, the more likely it is that we’ll take all their money.”
“Tell me more.”
“All those slot machines? They’re set up in clusters for a reason. We want you to forget where you are, to forget there’s a world outside of hitting the buttons and watching the lights spin. The slot forests are deep and dense.”
“Like a trap.”
“Just like a trap.”
“Keep going. I want to hear more.”
“Do you like listening to me talk?” He’s closer now. My heart’s beginning to race, and I’m wondering if this is it, if this is when he makes his move and comes onto me.
“Yes,” I say very softly. “You have a nice voice.”
“What else do you like about me?”
“Nothing,” I say, trying to cover my smile. “You’re way too arrogant. If I start complimenting you, it’ll only make your already-swollen ego that much larger.”
He seems amused. “There’s nothing you can say that will change my opinion of myself, good or bad.”
“Must be nice.”
“You’re not that way?”
“Most people don’t have that insane level of self-confidence. You can absolutely say something that’ll make me feel bad about myself. I bet you can think of a dozen things right now.”
“Never,” he says. “I’m surprised though. You seem so sure of yourself.”
“I’m not,” I say with a laugh. “God, I’m far from it. I’m self-conscious of everything. My limp, my butt, my laugh, my teeth. Everything I say and everything I do. The only time I’m not thinking is when I’m dealing.”
“That’s also part of why you love the Sunrise so much, isn’t it?”
I shift toward him. Adler watches me in the darkness, a look of genuine interest on his face. Does he really care about what I think? He’s listening like he does. I say softly, “It gets me out of my head. That and it feels like home, although lately—”
“The gossip.” He looks sympathetic.
“It’s bad, Adler.”
“There’s nothing I can do about it. They’ll lose interest eventually. It’s always that way.”
“Maybe,” I say, chewing on my lip. “It just sucks, you know? I want to be the one gossiping, not the subject of the rumors and crap. I want to be a part of the team again.”
“You can’t have that anymore,” he says and reaches out to touch my face. He seems melancholy, which surprises me. “What did I say? You’re my wife now. You crossed that line. I’m sorry I took that away from you. I didn’t want to steal something that felt important. I didn’t realize how you felt about this place.”
I sigh, leaning into his touch. Did I really trade one of the few things I truly love in this world for money? I didn’t predict that this would happen, but I should have, and I’m kicking myself for not seeing it.
Adler’s right: no matter what, I’ll always be his wife.
At least until we divorce.
Then I’ll just be his ex—and the mother of his child.
“I guess I can’t ever go back to the other side,” I whisper.
“No,” he says, shifting closer. We’re inches apart now. “But since you’re awake, I’ve been thinking about how to make you more comfortable all day.”
There it is. My heart doubles as he looks at me. I was wondering if he would bring this up. “Have you?” I ask, pretending like it’s not the biggest deal in the world to me.
“I think you’ve been imagining it too. No, don’t try to pull away.” He leans in to kiss my neck.
I want this. God, I want it badly—I need his mouth on my mouth, his hands on my skin, all his obscene talents pushing my every button.
But I’m terrified. The fear comes back, stronger this time.
I’m afraid I won’t be good enough and he’ll regret marrying me.