Becoming Mrs. Lockwood Page 2

  Once we’d left the wax museum, we decided to grab a quick bite to eat and figure out where we wanted to go next.

  An hour later, I was gawking out of the taxi window as we made our way down the strip to the Shark Reef at Mandalay Bay.

  “Oooh, the High Roller!” I pointed, my arm stretching in front of Weston as I leaned into him.

  “I bet the view is best at night when the strip is lit up,” he said, his breath blowing against my neck.

  I turned my head up to look at him and noticed just how close we were. How close his lips were to mine. There was a shift, the mood getting heavier than the lightness of the day.

  My lips pulled up into a smile as I sat back in my seat, suddenly very conscious of the beautiful man next to me whose thumb was making light circles against my own.

  The aquarium was fun, watching the sea life swim all around us. Next on our tour was the Luxor; we stopped not only to see the inside of the pyramid, but to also hit the artifact tour.

  He held my hand in his the entire time. When I shivered from the cold of the air conditioning, he pulled me to him and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I didn’t know what to think about his actions, but I liked it. It felt . . . natural. It was as if we’d known each other for years, instead of being two complete strangers who’d only met twice.

  I even overheard people talking about us, saying how cute we looked together. Some called us newlyweds, others were jealous that I was wrapped up in him. I smiled, because for one day, I felt special, loved, and taken care of. It was a day lived in a fantasy land where princes really did exist.

  We continued down the strip to New York New York and boarded the Manhattan Express. I wrapped my arm around his as the roller coaster climbed the hill, clicking and clacking as we moved, our anticipation rising.

  Screams erupted from both of us as we crested the hill and dropped back to the earth. With each twist and turn, my grip tightened and I was frozen, glued to him, as we pulled back into the hotel.

  We took it easy after that, both of us a bit queasy after riding. Walking down to the Bellagio, more people whispered about us and pointed, but I dismissed it. We stood in front of the fountains, listening to the music and watching the water dance in time.

  I’d never had as much fun as I did with Weston. We’d done nearly everything on my mental list of things to do in Vegas. And I hated that with every passing minute our time together was growing shorter.

  “It’s even better when it’s dark and the lights are on,” he said as he leaned farther into me.

  “Maybe we should come back after dark, then.” My comment was a bit forward, but the sun was starting to set and I really wasn’t ready for our day to end.

  He looked down at his watch. “Do you have a dress with you?”

  I scrunched my brow and thought about it. The only nice dress I owned sat in my hotel room, never worn. My mom made me bring it so we could have a semi-elegant night out, but that hadn’t happened, so it was still hanging in the hotel closet. It was sleeveless with a white top, black sash, and black lace over a white skirt. Not as nice or formal as his suits, but it was all I had.

  “Sorta. It’s nothing special, but it’s a decent dress.” It felt like a thousand butterflies suddenly erupted in my stomach when I answered him. Anticipation filling me that maybe he also didn’t want to leave me.

  “Wren, would you join me for dinner tonight?” He brushed a lock of hair from my face. “May I take you on a date?”

  I stared up at him, stunned.

  A date? With him? I’d never been on a date before.

  “Yes,” I said. As if there would be any other answer.

  I was a ball of nerves as we stepped into the elevator. His hand hadn’t left mine, and we were headed on a date. My first outing alone with a man.

  “What room are you in?” he asked, his other hand hovering over the elevator buttons.

  “21030. You?”

  He pressed the button for the twenty-first floor, then pulled his room key from his pocket and inserted it into the slot before punching twenty-eight.

  “28014.”

  “Let me guess—you’re on the suite level?”

  He smirked at me. “Yes.”

  “So, why didn’t you stay at one of the more expensive hotels on the strip? Why the Mirage?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve always liked it here, and the added bonus was that many of my meetings this week were in the hotel’s conference rooms.”

  The elevator slowed, then doors spread open. My gaze moved to him as I stepped forward, our hands still locked.

  “See you in an hour?”

  For a split second, he stared at me, but then his body was right up against me. His hand cupped my cheek and his lips pressed lightly against mine.

  Shock and heat flared through me from the spark of his kiss. Then he stepped back. Our eyes were locked as he made space between us, his intense gaze fanning some internal fire inside me. Holding the door with the hand that had been on my cheek, he released my fingers, allowing me to leave.

  But I didn’t want to.

  I wanted to be with him. To have his lips on mine for more than the brief second. A hunger for him started to grow inside me, begging me to pull him down for another.

  “One hour. 21030, right?” he confirmed.

  I managed to nod, my foot catching slightly as I backed up. “21030.” I turned, and tried to remember which way my room was.

  It wasn’t my first kiss, but I was sure to remember it over all the kisses that had come before.

  “Wren.” I glanced back to find a smiling Weston. “I’ll see you soon.”

  The doors closed, and it took me a few beats too long to turn down the hall.

  Somehow, in my Weston-induced haze, I found my room and immediately stripped out of my clothes to jump in the shower. Once out, I blew my hair dry and attempted to style it with little success. Mascara and eyeshadow were all the makeup I had on me, along with a tube of lip gloss.

  Opening the closet, I pulled out the dress and swatted it with my hand, attempting to pull out any of the leftover wrinkles from the suitcase. The peep-toe heels my mom bought me to go with the dress sat on the tile floor. They weren’t really my style, but I was very happy to have them at that moment.

  As I was putting on my bra, I heard the door click and open.

  “Wren, I’m back!” Mom called, stopping in her tracks when she saw me. “Are you going out to dinner?” She wasn’t upset, just curious, and then a grin spread on her face. “Is it with the man you spent all day with?”

  “Yes, Mom. I’m going to dinner with Weston. He’ll be here in about five minutes, so I need to finish getting ready.”

  I pulled the dress over my head, and she walked over to help me straighten it out.

  “Aren’t you glad I bought you those fancy shoes now?” she asked, her smile reflecting in the mirror as she zipped me up. “I’m so happy you met someone! Tell me about him.”

  “Well, he’s older than I am. I’m not quite sure what he does for a living, but I can tell he makes a lot of money. Not that it matters. Just stating a fact.” A smile grew on my face as the memories of our day together ran through my mind again. “I had a lot of fun with him today. The most fun I’ve ever had with anyone.”

  “Wow.” There was more than a twinge of awe in her voice as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “What?” I blinked at her.

  “I’ve just never seen you smile like that. He must be special.”

  I let out a nervous laugh and brushed my hair behind my ears just in time to hear a knock on the door.

  “That must be him!” She clapped her hands as she jumped up and ran to open the door despite my protests.

  After opening the door, I noticed there was silence from her.

  “You must be Wren’s mother,” Weston said from the other side of the door.

  “Uh-huh,” was all that my mother managed to squeak out at first. “Hi, I’m Karen.” She held out
her hand.

  “Weston.”

  “Oh, I know.” I rolled my eyes at my mother’s fawning. I’d only said his name once. “You’re really taking my daughter out?”

  “If it’s all right with you? I have flowers here to bribe you, if need be.”

  Slipping on my shoes, I grabbed my clutch and headed to the door to free him from the awkwardness of my mother ogling him. Weston handed the flowers to Mom and held his hand out to me.

  “You look beautiful,” he said as his gaze slowly slid down my body and back up again.

  “Thank you.” I ogled him just the same. “You look very handsome.”

  He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “This is everyday wear for me, but thank you.”

  Mom grabbed on to my arm and held a finger up to Weston. “Give us a quick sec.” She pulled me into the bathroom and shut the door. “Do you have your mace on you?”

  “Mom.”

  “I’m just saying, be careful.”

  “He can hear you, you know. This room echoes.”

  She shook her hand in my face. “Just check in, okay?”

  I nodded and reached for the door, pulling it open and smiling up at a Weston, who was wearing the sexiest amused grin.

  “I’ll see you later, Mom,” I said, crossing the threshold and taking his arm.

  “Have a great time! I’ll see you later!” She waved.

  We walked arm in arm. The elevator ride was silent, but I was just happy to be with him. The day had definitely sealed in his status as a crush.

  “Where are we going?” I asked when we reached the lobby.

  He gave me that sexy smirk again, and I couldn’t help but think of our kiss from earlier. “Off the strip.”

  “Off the strip?” Did people go off the strip?

  He smiled devilishly and took my hand as we crossed the lobby and exited out the front doors. I thought we were headed toward the taxi stand, but he pulled me toward a limo that was sitting in front of the door. The driver was standing there, holding the door for us.

  “Good evening, Mr. Lockwood,” he greeted, and then looked at me curiously.

  “Good evening, Dan.” Weston shook his hand and we climbed in.

  His eyes were on me, studying something, but I couldn’t figure out what.

  “This is slightly overkill, don’t you think?” It wasn’t like we were going to prom or something.

  Weston laughed and relaxed back onto the seat, leaving me once again wondering what he did for a living. “I like to do things with a bit of flare. That, and do you know how many germs are in those cabs?”

  “Are you a germaphobe, Weston?” I teased.

  “Hardly, but I wouldn’t want to sully your pretty dress with that grimy cab.”

  “Flattery will . . . yeah, flattery will get you somewhere.” We both laughed, mine with a bit of a nervous edge.

  He reached out and ran the back of his fingers down my cheek. Our eyes locked again, intensifying the want to be closer to him. “I’m not sure where I’m trying to get with you, but I’ll let you know, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said in little more than a whisper.

  Why did we just have one night? And why did we have to live so far apart?

  His “off the strip” wasn’t far, just off the main drag to the Rio Las Vegas Hotel and Casino. We rode the elevator almost to the top, up to the Voodoo Lounge.

  The waiting area was packed, being that it was Saturday night, but it was almost like the seas parted when Weston entered the room. The hostess showed us right to a private, reserved table that was hidden from prying eyes. No waiting for . . . what did the driver call him? Mr. Lockwood?

  “Just who are you?” I asked with squinted eyes as we sat down.

  Weston laughed, smiling as he remained silent. I remembered seeing people staring and practically bending over backward for him all throughout the day, but I just thought it was because of his good looks. I was beginning to suspect it was something more than that.

  “I don’t want to say. It’s very refreshing to be with someone who hasn’t heard of me. I’m liking this way too much to ruin it,” he said, taking my hand in his and kissing it. “Right now we are two strangers getting to know each other.”

  Heat flooded my cheeks, which I hoped he didn’t notice in the low lighting.

  We were looking over the menu when the waitress came in to get our drink order. Before I could speak, Weston ordered a bottle of champagne.

  After she left, I leaned forward and whispered, “You do remember how old I am, right?”

  He chuckled. “I thought we could just enjoy the evening. Celebrate a little.”

  “What are we celebrating?”

  His fingers linked with mine, that warm vibration spreading up my arm again. “The end of a fantastic day.”

  The smile dropped from my face. “That makes me sad, though.” I didn’t want to leave him. But come morning, I would have to and our time together would be just a memory.

  His smile faltered as well, nodding in agreement. Our champagne arrived and was poured before the waitress took our order and left.

  “To a wonderful day, with a wonderful woman,” Weston said, raising his glass.

  “To a wonderful day that I hate to see end.”

  We toasted and I had my first taste of champagne. The bubbles tickled my throat as I took a sip before setting the glass down. Weston’s fingers entwined with mine again, and then he put his lips to my fingers. I stared at him, watching intently, while his gaze moved over to me. He leaned forward, and gently pressed his lips against mine.

  It was an epiphany-type moment when I reacted and kissed him back. I could almost hear the “click,” like we belonged together. It was perfect. Or maybe just perfect in my teenage, hormone-ridden mind.

  Whatever it was, I didn’t care. I just knew I wanted it and more.

  It was more intense than in the elevator. There was what I could only describe as desire taking over as our lips parted, his tongue brushing against mine before his lips closed again.

  He retreated, and I was left staring at him, my lips tingling, and crying out for more. Fire burned, searing me to the core, heat pooling between my legs.

  “Don’t tell me that was your first kiss?” His eyes were wide in amused shock as he pulled back.

  I shook my head. “No, you kissed me in the elevator.” His eyes went wide, and my lip twitched. “And there were a few fumbling guys at my school. It was also just . . . so much better than I imagined a kiss could be.”

  “I’m glad I’m not the only one,” he said and took another sip of champagne.

  I followed his example, my mind wondering so many things. I didn’t know a lot about him—I hadn’t learned much through the day—I just knew that we had a lot of fun together. That we had an attraction.

  “All right, Mr. Mysterious, tell me something about yourself.”

  “Hmm.” His lips twitched up and he tapped his fingers on the table. “Well, I had an unconventional childhood.”

  “Okay . . .” Something about the way he started made me think getting anything out of him was going to be difficult. Then again, he seemed to like that I didn’t know who he was.

  He chuckled. “It’s not something I talk about, really, but it led me to where I am today.” He took another sip. “Oh, I’m a USC graduate.”

  “Maybe you can give me a tour when I come back out in the summer.” A hint that I’d be returning soon and that I’d like to see him again. Even though it was far away, just the possibility of being near him again gave me hope.

  He smiled at me, his thumb caressing my fingers. “I’d love to.”

  The intensity in his eyes combined with his words left me a little mesmerized. He wasn’t just blowing me off with a “sure” or “that sounds like fun.” He sounded genuinely excited about seeing me again.

  I broke away from his stare, taking another sip of champagne to calm myself down. “Okay, your teens or before was somehow messed up. What about brothers or
sisters?”

  He cleared his throat and leaned back into his chair. “I have an older brother. He’s my best friend, and even with our hectic lives, we make sure to get together at least every other week, if not more.”

  “Sounds like you work a lot.”

  He nodded. “Days like this don’t happen very often.” He let out a sigh and brushed the back of his fingers across my cheek. “I would love more days like today.”

  His blue eyes were dark and looking at me with so much intensity, there was hardly any volume to my response. “Me too.”

  “What about you? Any siblings?”

  I shook my head, using my “no” to clear my head a little and loosen his hypnotizing grip on me. “I’m an only child, but I do have a stepsister. She lives with her mom in Georgia, so I don’t see her very often.”

  “Your parents are divorced?”

  I nodded. “Mom’s been remarried for about five years. What about yours?”

  “They’re still married.” The tone of his voice dropped.

  It seemed that his parents were not his favorite topic.

  “How old are you?” I asked as I raised my glass to take a sip.

  His gaze locked on mine. “Thirty-one.”

  The little champagne that had slipped into my mouth shot back out into the glass.

  Thirty-one? Seriously. What was a hot guy like him doing hanging out with a girl thirteen years younger than him?

  I chugged the rest of my glass, tipping the bottom up until every last drop was warming my veins.

  “How old did you think I was?” he asked as he took the bottle out of the ice bucket and refilled my glass.

  I shook my head and took another long sip. “No clue. It didn’t really matter.”

  Leaning forward, he tangled our fingers together. “Then I kissed you.”

  I couldn’t help but lean forward until we were only a few inches apart. “And I wondered, why?”

  “Because you’re beautiful, and I had the best day that I’ve probably had in a decade with you. Because it felt right.” He pressed his lips against mine. Soft and light, and it made my brain foggy. “Have I scared you off?”

  If anything, he was drawing me closer with his allure. Never had I ever been so physically affected by a boy, but Weston was no boy; he was a man.