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I get there a little after two in the morning, and I head right to the Palms. I check in, and the suite I stayed in last time isn’t available, so they just give me a regular room. I booked my usual suite for the next week in advance, though, so I’ll move into it tomorrow.
Tonight, all I need a room for is sleep.
I think about calling Cookie as I settle in, but I know she keeps early hours at her bakery. I don’t want to wake her up.
I have a Strip view, so I stand by my window for a few beats, staring out at the lights. They’re still twinkling even at this ridiculously late hour, and I think of Cookie as she stood at a similar window looking out. I didn’t bother looking at the lights. All I could focus on was her.
I blow out a breath. I have got to pull myself together.
I remind myself that I’m moving here because of the team. Because of my brothers. Because of my new job as a defensive back for the Vegas Aces.
I’m not moving here for some girl I’ve met one time.
I can tell myself that all I want, though. It doesn’t change the fact that it’s sure as fuck a nice side benefit.
Chapter 15: Grayson Nash
Do You Know Beckett Maxwell’s Sister?
I let myself sleep until almost noon after the late night of driving, but I’m still in town and ready to go earlier than I thought I would be.
I have a full eight hours to burn until my date, so I take a shower and decide to check in on Beckett’s sister. I click on the address he sent me after reading the text that told me the place where his sister works is called Cravings.
Cravings?
It’s Vegas, I guess, and she’s in her twenties now, but it sounds like the kind of place that sells lingerie and sex toys. If it is, I can’t imagine how awkward it’s going to be to walk in and ask for Ava Maxwell.
Either way, it’s going to be awkward. But it might be nice for her to feel a little sense of home. I’m doing this as a favor to her brother, and it’ll be like she has another big brother nice and close if she needs anything.
I can’t imagine Beckett would throw me to the wolves that way. I’m sure it’s not a sex toy shop.
But if it is, maybe I can grab something for my date tonight.
The place isn’t far from where I’m staying—just down the same street on the other side of the Strip, a ten-or-so minute drive. I head down to the valet, get my Chevy, and slide into the driver’s seat.
It’s weird driving in Vegas. It takes a vacation place down a few pegs back into reality.
I’ve only ever been here to play or to party, and I’ve always had the pleasure of someone else giving me a ride. But today, I’m mid-transition into a resident of this place, and the hope I feel lighting my chest is unexpected.
I cruise down Flamingo Road, the sounds of the country station on the radio blaring in my ears. I listen to all sorts of music, and I guess this is where I landed last night when I pulled up to the hotel.
I make my way toward Cravings, and I spot the sign from the car when I pass by it. There’s a small line out front, and I realize it’s a bakery and I’m here on the back end of lunch time.
This was stupid.
I should’ve looked the place up before I drove over here, but I’m invested now. I need to get this over with so my favor to Beck is off the to-do list.
There aren’t any parking spots on the street, so I opt to pull into a parking lot behind the place, and I pull up alongside a curb that won’t block anybody since the parking lot is full, too.
I pull on a baseball hat I keep in my backseat, and I keep my head down as I move over toward the back of the line. The lady in front of me has three kids, and they are not what you’d call patient.
The line doesn’t move quickly, and it seems to slow to a crawl as one kid keeps bumping into me. I try taking a step back, but the lady behind me is far too close.
I blow out a breath and do my best to keep my cool.
I sneak a peek at a menu when I get close enough to grab a paper one out of a little holder near the door. It’s a relatively small menu for lunch as the focus of this place appears to be on its baked goods, and before I get to the front of the line, I decide on ham and cheese on a fresh baguette with a bag of chips and one of their famous kitchen sink cookies.
Once I step inside, I see there’s still a decent line in front of me, but we’re moving along as fast as the two cashiers can handle each transaction. It’s loud in here, voices echoing in a loud din as patrons enjoy their fresh baked goods and lunches, some people staying to eat while others take their goods to go.
