Lauren Dane - What Happens In Vegas...

I couldn’t risk giving in to the bitter ache the thought triggered, or pulling Jack into my arms to comfort him. If I did, the odds were slim I’d be able to release him without confessing my belly-cramping concern that I just might have fallen for him, too. “I’m so sorry. That’s awful, horrid. I know he was a good friend of yours.”

“I’m through with fighting fires, Carinna.”

Thank God. But no, not thank God. It was selfishness that made me think that way, fear of losing him forever. “That’s crazy talk, Jack. Firefighting has been in your family for five generations. You love it. It’s your emotions making you think otherwise.”

The sheen of tears left his eyes. “Damn it, it isn’t my emotions!” he barked out, then gentled his voice. “I’ve wanted to quit for a long time. It’s a good job, an honorable one, but it’s not where my future’s at. You know how long I’ve wanted to open a restoration garage. All I needed was the money to make it happen. I’m one day away from having that money.”

“How?”

A small smile curved his lips. “Poker. I’m in a tournament at the Rio with some of the best in the industry. Tomorrow’s the last day and there’s a good chance I’ll win.”

I should have been happy to know he wouldn’t be risking his life anymore, yet still doing a job he loved. And truthfully I was, but I was also jealous as hell to think he would be living his dream while I’d probably spend the rest of my life having my ass grabbed at the Taboo Tequila Bar while I saved for mine.

I forced a smile. “That’s killer, Jack. You’re going to realize your dream.”

The subtle twitching of his lips told me he hadn’t bought my bogus smile. He stepped toward me, lifting his hand to my face and caressing my cheek before I could stop him. “That garage isn’t my only dream, Carinna. Not even close to my biggest one.”

My heart missed a beat, only to start back up as a wild tattoo. “Don’t say it.”

“I love you. And I want to marry—”

He’d fucking said it!

I covered my ears and jerked from his touch, uttering a na-na-na chant to make any seven-year-old proud.

Jack had come here in his moment of need, much the way I’d relied on him after my father’s death. I wanted to be his comforting shoulder, as he’d been mine. But I couldn’t do it at the cost of what he was asking. I couldn’t even allow him to finish his proposal, for fear I’d listen to my heart and respond in the affirmative.

“Get out!” I screeched. His crumpled look wouldn’t allow me to stick with the harpy tone. I uncovered my ears and softened my voice. “I’m sorry, Jack. I know you’re a great catch, but I don’t want to be the one who catches you. I don’t do relationships and not even you can change that. Just go. Please.”

I thought he would try to change my mind—he’d never been one to give up easily—but Tony’s death had obviously taken all the fight out of him. He didn’t say another word, just turned and walked out my door.

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