Page 32 of The Decadent Gift (The Gift 3)
“He sounds like you,” Kate said with a laugh that caught me off guard. I’d heard her laugh plenty of times before, but this one felt like it came from a different place, a deeper place. It was softer, sweeter, and at the same time, it seemed to say she knew me. She could laugh at me, with me, for me.
“Yeah, he kind of is like me.”
“Lucky kid,” she said softly, pushing a few loose strands of hair away from her cheek.
Instinctively, I leaned closer and took over for her, brushing those strands out of the way, tucking them behind her ear.
“Thank you,” she said.
“No, thank you,” I said, lingering on her hair, taking the time to run my fingers over it. Her hair was enticingly soft. “I fucking love your hair.”
The compliment came out unbidden, and it was wholly necessary. Her chestnut strands were gorgeous.
A faint blush spread on her cheeks. “And thank you for that too.”
I lowered my hand, unsure of how to respond. Over the last few months, I’d become accustomed to her sass, to her fire, but this was another side of Kate I’d seen this weekend.
A softer side. A vulnerable side. Sides I dug a whole lot. Even in spite of what had happened with her ex, she seemed to open up easily, to let me in. And every time she let me see more of her, I found myself wanting to kick that door open, know her better, understand her more deeply. And let her into my world too.
Finally, I found the words. “Thanks for listening.”
“I like hearing about your family. And your nephew. It’s great that you’re a part of his life,” she said.
“He’s a good kid. I love getting the chance to spend time with him. And to look out for my sister.”
“This is the same sister who told you to stop working this weekend,” she said, arching a brow.
“That’s the one.”
She took another sip, her expression amused. “Smart sister. Good idea she had.”
I inched closer to Kate again, wanting to be in her orbit, wanting to be near her. Hell, maybe it was the wine. Maybe the peppers. Maybe it was just the aphrodisiac effect of a fantastic meal. But this woman was doing something to me, heating me all over. It wasn’t merely with lust. It was lust mixed with something else, something new. “Best idea ever.”
Lifting her glass, she offered it in a toast. “Let’s drink to fantastic weekends.”
I clinked back. “Like this one.”
She’d just taken a drink of her wine when a voice cut across the table. A pretty, feminine voice. “Hey, girl! Don’t you look gorgeous tonight?”
Kate whipped her head to look, then she grinned. “And I see you’re slumming it, as always,” Kate said, rolling her eyes at the other woman’s just-stepped-off-a-movie-set dress.
Holy smokes. The other woman was Ivy Carmichael, one of the wealthiest people in Las Vegas.
“Seriously, that Badgley Mischka is hot,” Kate continued.
“Thank you,” Ivy said, smoothing a hand over her red dress, then tapping the table with a perfectly polished finger. “Did you get dessert? You have to try the rainbow cake. I’m going to have ten delivered for our next book club.”
“Ten? That seems a little low. That’s one cake per person,” Kate said, deadpan.
The other woman tapped her lip, frowning. “True. Better make it twenty—another for everyone to take home. I better place my order now. Tuesday will be here before we know it.”
“Excellent. As president of the club, I approve. But I have a confession—I didn’t make it through the book. I switched to a hot new romance.”
Ivy dipped her head and whispered, “Same here.” Then she turned to me, and Kate jumped in.
“Ivy, this is my good friend Jake Hamilton. Jake, this is Ivy Carmichael.”
I extended a hand. “Pleasure to meet you. Love your hotel.”
Ivy beamed. “Thank you.” She nodded toward Kate. “And I hope you’re treating my book club president exceedingly well.”
I grinned. “Only the best for Kate.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” the woman who owned one of the most luxurious casinos on the Strip said to me. Then she added to Kate in a not-so-hushed whisper, eyes aimed in my direction, “Friend.”
Ivy shook her head, not buying it.
Smart woman. Brilliant woman.
Kate simply shrugged and smiled.
When Ivy turned to leave, a man about the size of a tree followed close behind her. Bodyguard maybe.
Ivy glanced back at the man, her eyes lingering on him.
As they left, I returned my focus to Kate. “So, you’re casual friends with one of the Carmichael sisters?”
Kate shrugged impishly, her hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. I’d never noticed her eyes could be so playful—another thing about Kate Williams I filed away. The drawer of details was filling up.
“She’s a voracious reader,” Kate said. “Very clever and insightful. We usually meet in a private room at the Rapture, so I can’t complain about that. And she has quite a sweet tooth, so it works out well.”
