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“You’re a spooky gal… Besides, maybe the new ghosts will help us forget the old ones.”
It was impossible to miss the sadness that leaked into Gage’s voice. I could do spooky but, “We might need something stronger. We can tour the base, but you need a lap dance after.” Half the signs leading into town had boasted about the local strip club. That sounded like a great distraction.
Gage stared at me in disbelief. “Your leap of logic is impeccably flawed.”
“Not really. What better way is there to forget your problems than paying some woman you’ll never see again to grind her ass against your junk? Hell, I’d pay to see that.” Maybe it was kind of a weird thing for me to suggest. Was it?
Gage rolled his eyes. “You will pay. That’s the point.”
So much for being frugal. My mind was running with the idea though. It did this to me—my mind did—when I spent too long spiraling. It latched onto some random thought and refused to let go. Apparently today that was strippers. “You don’t want a lap dance, I’ll take one.”
“You can’t have my birthday lap dance. Get your own.”
“Excuse me.” A male voice interrupted the conversation. “There are no other empty seats. Do you mind if I share your table?”
I looked up to find a gorgeous specimen of a man standing next to us. The blazer over a t-shirt was a little iffy, but he was well-built, with dark blond hair and a hint of stubble on his jaw. I wouldn’t mind a lap dance from him. Or doing one for him.
Gage toed an empty chair in his direction. “Sure. No worries.”
The new arrival set a plate on the table that had a muffin and a small bowl of mixed fruit, plus a black coffee.
What was the point of going to the buffet if he wasn’t going to enjoy it?
“Thanks. Sawyer, by the way.” He extended his hand.
Gage shook it, and I did the same after, each of us offering up our names. Sawyer’s grip was warm and firm. Like a man who was practiced in shaking hands.
Weird thought. At least my brain was moving on from naked people grinding against me.
Nope. That mental image was back again, and he was very much a part of it.
Sawyer glanced around the room as he picked at his muffin. “Is it always like this here?”
“Probably. We’re not exactly regulars,” I said.
Gage dug into his food again. “First time?”
“Yup. Popping my middle-of-nowhere Nevada cherry.”
I liked it. “Technically, most places in Nevada are in the middle of nowhere. What brings you to this one?”
“I have meetings in Salt Lake City on Monday, and my brother told me this was a fun place to hang out.” Sawyer frowned. “Pretty sure he was yanking my chain.”
“It’s not for everyone,” Gage said. “But it has its high points. What kind of business?”
Sawyer opened his mouth, but a loud jangling filled the room, cutting him off. An excited sounding mechanical voice came over the loudspeakers and announced someone had just won the big slot machine jackpot.
A wave of cheers—some more enthusiastic than others—rolled through the room, before the conversation around us returned to a low roar of overlapping chatter.
“See. It’s not all boring here,” I teased. “That person’s month was just made.”
Sawyer smirked. “Fair point. Anyway, I’m in sales. Real estate. Investments.”
I waited for a heartbeat to see if he would offer more. He didn’t.
“That’s pretty vague,” I said.
He shrugged. “I prefer the term diverse.”
