In Her Best Friend's Bed. J. Margot Critch

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      She looked to her feet and the dangerously high heels. “If you like them so much, maybe you’ll get a pair of your own at the Swerve holiday gift exchange,” she told him pointedly.

      She had him there. His libido came crashing back to earth when he finally remembered that she was his employee. When he’d heard that she was having trouble landing a job after graduating last spring, Trevor had hired Abby to work at Swerve and she had proved to be quite a valuable asset. Abby was an efficient, hard worker, and she kept the bar clean and tidy and the customers happy. He knew she wouldn’t be with him for long, since it would only be a matter of time until her job search rewarded her with a career suitable to her qualifications. But hiring her had still been a great decision.

      When he didn’t reply, Abby laughed and sipped her drink. He noticed the flush on her cheeks. “I think I need a little air,” she announced, facing him. She stood. “Care to join me?”

      Trevor decided then that he would go anywhere with her. “Sure.” When she started to make her way to the patio, he stopped her. “Wait. Have you seen the VIP rooftop bar in this place?”

      Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “I have not. I didn’t even know there was one. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

      “Well, it’s not officially finished yet, but Jamie showed me yesterday. It’s great.”

      She looked around the room. “Where is it?”

      “On the roof,” he supplied with a smirk.

      “You’re such a smart-ass,” she muttered, throwing a light punch on his shoulder. “How do we get there?”

      “Come on, I’ll show you.”

      He stood, careful to not touch her in any way, lest he lose control and throw her over his shoulder, run upstairs with her and lock them both in his room. They walked out of the club and past the regular bank of elevators to the one that would take them to the penthouse suites. From his pocket, Trevor removed the key card that Jamie had given him, emblazoned in gold with the letters VIP, and he inserted it into the slot to call the elevator.

      “VIP, eh?” Abby asked him in a playful tone.

      “Don’t be too impressed,” he told her as they stepped inside the elevator car. “It’s only because I’m very important,” he assured her, his voice deadpan, as he pushed the button to bring them to the rooftop.

      Abby laughed, the soft, breathy sound filling the inside of the small elevator as it began its ascent.

      Trevor watched her in the mirrored glass that covered the interior. Abby, however, was watching the numbers as they quickly climbed the floors to the top, but when she looked at the mirror and saw him staring at her, their reflections locked eyes. The only noise beside their breaths was the chime as the elevator announced that they had reached the rooftop.

      The elevator doors pulled apart, revealing the open rooftop bar. Trevor could picture all of the people who would flock to Swerve just for the opportunity to be seen here and take in the view. He escorted Abby over to a high railing on the far side. The 360-degree view of the lights of the Las Vegas Strip, and of downtown in the distance, took his breath away. So far he had only seen the bar in the daylight. He was impressed then, but at night it was spectacular. The white leather furniture they walked past was sleek and crisp. And the dance floor, which would soon be filled with bodies moving to pulsing beats, was elevated and would be lit from below. He could only imagine the rush that would accompany dancing so high above the streets of one of the world’s hottest party spots.

      Trevor and Abby stopped at the railing and neither spoke as they took in the view. They could see the people and the revelers milling about below, but, being so high up, they could hear nothing in the silence of the empty rooftop. Despite the fact that they were in Las Vegas, the late-fall air at night held a slight chill, and he saw the small bumps rise on the skin of Abby’s back. He shrugged off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders.

      She pulled it closed over her chest. “Thanks.” She hesitated. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for letting me work at the bar. I really appreciate it.”

      “The pleasure is all mine,” he said with a shake of his head. Her features were highlighted by the glow of the moon. She looked beautiful. “Any luck on the job front?”

      She shook her head. “Big, fat goose egg,” she told him, making an O with her thumb and forefinger. “I’ve got résumés out, had a couple of interviews, but nada.”

      “You’ll find something,” he assured her. He knew it was true, and it made him sad that he would soon be without her. “I know you won’t be working with me forever, but it’s nice to have you there. You’re a natural behind the bar.”

      “Yeah, I can really pour a drink with the best of them,” she scoffed.

      Trevor frowned at her tone. He knew that she didn’t take the job as seriously as she would the marketing career she dreamed of. He wished that she understood that bartending wasn’t just about pouring beer and twirling a cocktail shaker. To be successful, one had to possess an innate quality that few people could claim to have. Most people could be good at bartending. But one had to be kind, personable, tough, funny, organized, dexterous and quick in order to be great. And she was. Abby’s quick dismissal of the profession cut him to the quick and, even though he managed one of the hippest and most successful clubs in Montreal, it made him feel like a glorified bar boy.

      “Hey, are you okay over there?” she asked him, breaking into his thoughts. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this quiet or contemplative.”

      “Yeah, sure.” He shook his head, dispelling the melancholy that had overtaken him. His smile was smooth. “I like your dress.”

      Abby looked down at herself and smoothed a hand down her front, over her flat stomach. Trevor’s eyes followed it intensely. “This old thing?” she laughed. “With the back, and the slit, I thought it might be a bit too much for tonight.”

      “Anything goes in Vegas,” he offered with a smile.

      “It sure does. What’s the old saying? ‘What happens in Vegas—’”

      “‘Stays in Vegas.’ Yeah,” he finished for her and trailed off. They watched the lights and the action on the street below them. He heard her dress rustle and he felt her shift closer to him, until they were touching, side by side. He looked at his hands grasping the railing, and he saw her fingers slide across it, creeping until they touched his. The same electric current he’d felt earlier, when he’d had his hand on her back, jolted from her fingers to his.

      He turned away from the railing to face her, and he brought his hand to rest lightly on her hip, ushering her closer to him, until they were almost pressed together. Her breasts grazed his chest and he tensed, his hand roamed under the jacket to settle once again on her bare lower back. This time, he wasn’t about to pull away from her. He looked down at Abby, unable to take his eyes away from her parted lips. He wanted to kiss her more than anything.

      Trevor heard nothing but the faint notes of music that flittered up to them from below. He leaned in and brought his lips to hers, barely skimming them, just enough to get the smallest taste, but Trevor wanted more, and he took her bottom lip between his own, and he barely heard it when someone called out to him. He jerked back quickly, away from Abby, and they turned to the newcomer. Trevor cursed when СКАЧАТЬ