Split the Aces Read online

  “Yes.” Cori kissed Rae soundly. “I like.”

  Rae scooted up against the headboard and guided Cori into the crook of her arm. Cori had the best skin ever, the best body ever, too, for that matter. And it fit so deliciously next to hers.

  “What do you want to do tonight?” Rae asked. “We haven’t had dinner yet.” It was presumptuous to assume ownership of Cori’s time, the last night of her vacation, but she couldn’t help it. She wasn’t willing to give up even a moment in her company.

  “I’m not feeling like getting dressed…ever again.” Cori stretched across her and grabbed the menu from the nightstand. “How does room service sound?”

  They decided to split a pizza, not the best choice from the menu, but food seemed unimportant. As they waited, content to simply hold each other and ignore the passing of time, Rae swore she could hear Cori purring against her, deep in her throat, like a big, satisfied, sexy as hell, naked kitty.

  “There’s this pizza place by my apartment called Jack-O’s.” She curled her fingers through Cori’s hair. “They use all fresh ingredients. Instead of pre-shredded cheese out of a bag, they get their mozzarella in balls, covered in water, and they put it through this giant food processor type thing to shred it up. And the tomatoes are so fresh and plump, it’s like they came out of someone’s garden, straight to the pizza. You order the pizza and they toss the dough right then. Anytime you walk in there, you see these white, stretchy, wobbly Frisbees flying in the air. It’s amazing.”

  “Sounds heavenly.”

  Rae could almost smell the ever present rosemary and sage that filled the air. “It is. We’ll have to go some time.”

  Cori’s smile didn’t quite make it to her eyes. A knock sounded on the door and Rae slipped into a robe and retrieved their meal. They ate spread out over the bed. It wasn’t nearly as good as Jack-O’s, but she loved it anyway. Naked Cori made up for mediocre pizza any day.

  “Tell me about your work.” She knew very little about Cori’s job, save the occupation.

  “Well, I work for a full-service salon called Eden Body Works. Julie’s there, too.”

  Rae had forgotten about Cori’s friend. She glanced at the door, wondering when she would show up again. “Do you like massage therapy?”

  Cori shrugged. “It’s okay.”

  “Why aren’t you a singer?” Rae knew enough about the music industry from Kel to know she sounded hopelessly naïve with that question, but Cori was talented. She could make a living at it if she wanted to.

  “The market isn’t the same in Seattle as it is here. The music industry is a big part of the city, but because there are more bands than gigs, the work tends to be low paying for most. There are a lot of very good, very out-of-work musicians and singers.”

  Of course it would be different away from Las Vegas. Sometimes Rae forgot how different her city’s commerce base was from the rest of the country’s.

  “But you would if you could?” The question burned in Rae’s lungs. If Cori lived in Vegas, a career change would be possible.

  “Sure, who wouldn’t? Every little girl dreams of being a rock star, doesn’t she?”

  Rae pictured a teenage Cori dancing around her room in her underwear, singing into a hairbrush. She smiled. “I suppose.”

  “At any rate, I’m not a rock star. I’m a hungry massage therapist.” Cori helped herself to another slice of pizza. “What about you? You said you wanted the corner office. What does that mean in Vegas?”

  The same thing it means the world over, Rae suspected. That she was a greedy, money-hungry, hell-bent on success ladder climber. “The big offices in Vegas are bigger than anywhere else.” She smiled her best pirate-looking-for-treasure smile. “In a city based on sinful excesses, it’s required.”

  For no reason that Rae could understand, Cori kissed her, just a quick press of her lips that told her she was happy in the moment.

  “Right now I’m okay dealing blackjack,” Rae continued. “I’m still in school and anything more would be hard to juggle. And I can only go so far without the degree, so it’s the first priority.”

  “And then what?” Cori shifted the pizza tray to the night table and moved in closer. She didn’t touch Rae beyond laying her palm easily against her thigh, but her nearness was soothing.

  “Ultimately, I want my own property.” Rae explained how most resorts in Las Vegas were incorporated. In other parts of the country, hotels had managers. Here, the suit in charge was the CEO of a multi-million dollar company. “I want a car with a driver, a vacation home that I never use because I’m too busy—”

  “Hah!” Cori interrupted. “I won’t let you get away with that.”

  “No, I don’t imagine you will.” Rae was ridiculously pleased, forgetting for a moment what she’d been planning to say next. “I want a big house and a housekeeper to go with it, and a pool that stretches out into the desert.”

  Rae wondered if Cori would be comfortable in the house of her dreams and decided it didn’t matter. She would be happy with whatever house Cori chose, her dream easily transferable to a new address. A hammer hit her chest then. Cori was leaving tomorrow. The room was suddenly too cold and Rae wanted more than the memory of a shared pizza to come home to after work.

  “When do you leave?” She averted her eyes.

  The words were soft, easily lost in the ever present hum of the air conditioner. If not for the movement of her lips, Cori would have thought that she’d imagined the question. Surely the tint of sadness in Rae’s voice was more wishful thinking than real emotion. She cupped Rae’s neck, letting her fingers play in the short hair on the back of her head. She wanted to forget the question, or at the very least, forget the answer, if only for the next few minutes. The tips of Rae’s dark lashes, luscious and long without a trace of mascara, quivered as she leaned into Cori’s touch.

  Cori pressed her lips to Rae’s and trailed her fingers over her skin, stopping at the inside curve of her waist. She was so vulnerable, her body exposed and inviting. The longer Cori went without answering, the heavier Rae’s breathing became. A few more seconds and her eyes would close on the question, like the weight of the answer was too much to bear.

  “I have to be at the airport by seven in the morning.” Cori was surprised that the words had finally spilled out. She hadn’t intended to speak. She didn’t want the deadline hanging between them, coloring their last night together. She just wanted to curl up in Rae’s arms and not think about life after Las Vegas.

  “Can I take you to the airport?” Rae asked.

  You can take me anywhere, Cori thought. “I’d like that.”

  Rae’s eyes shimmered, the yearning stark on the surface. Her expression was guarded, yet vulnerable. “Will you come back?”

  It wasn’t an unreasonable question. Lots of people were frequent flyers when it came to Vegas. For Cori, though, this was a one-time trip. But she couldn’t bring herself to say so. “I don’t know.”

  Like a thundercloud casting a shadow on a sunny day, Rae’s expression darkened. She parted her lips and paused mid-breath, the exhalation trapped by her obvious desire to say something more. Cori waited, hope blossoming. She almost begged Rae to speak, ask the question she desperately wanted to hear. It would be so simple. One word, that’s all she needed. Stay… But it never came.

  Rae drew her close and Cori melted into her, the length of her body pressed against Rae’s. One arm was draped over her waist, Rae’s palm flat against Cori’s back. Rae gripped her shoulder with the other hand, squeezing tight, almost crushing. Then Cori felt the pressure ease and Rae’s touch turned to a light easy caress, her fingers moving to the pulse point behind her ear, into the hair at the base of her neck and around again. She kissed Cori with the same gentle exploration, a sensual brush of her lips, lingering, exploring. Cori felt as though Rae was worshipping her, memorizing the inside of her mouth.

  Cori opened herself, inviting Rae deeper. This kiss, the languid slide of Rae’s tongue inside
her mouth, would be the moment she would remember. The last four days had been an emotional and sexual roller-coaster, with Rae at the control panel. She’d taken her higher, dropped her lower, and crashed through her with an intensity that would leave an indelible mark. But this moment, this gentle lull that stretched and flowed, this would stay sharp in Cori’s mind.

  *

  Cori stopped at the security checkpoint. She should have said good-bye at the drop-off area, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go. Rae’s hand felt natural in hers, like they were born to hold hands.

  “I have to go,” she said. The thought of crossing through the gates felt like a prison sentence. Her life, her family, waited for her in Seattle, and all she wanted was to curl up in bed with Rae and never leave.

  “I know.” Rae’s voice was resolute, but Cori detected an underlying current of hurt.

  She squeezed Rae’s hand a little tighter. The plane was leaving in thirty-three minutes. She needed to hustle through security now if she was going to make it down the concourse in time. Maybe they wouldn’t notice if she sneaked Rae onto the plane in her overnight bag.

  “You have my number, right?” Cori knew she did, but she couldn’t keep from asking again.

  Rae kissed her fingers. “And you have mine.”

  “I really have to go.”

  “And I really don’t want to you to,” Rae said as though teasing, but her voice was husky with emotion.

  Cori wanted to kiss her but held herself back. If she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop until she kissed away every sad nuance.

  “You’ll call me?” Rae asked.

  The pleading tone made it impossible for Cori to walk away. She tightened her grip on Rae’s hand. “Yes.”

  “And I’ll call you.” Rae didn’t sound convinced, like she knew that when Cori boarded the plane she’d be leaving her life forever.

  Cori wanted to make promises, but she couldn’t. Broken promises were far worse than no promises at all. Still, she wanted to find the magic words to erase the desperate longing that clouded Rae’s face. She kissed her on the cheek, squeezed her fingers one last time, and gave herself over to the tide of departing passengers. She wished she’d met Rae in the days before increased security stopped visitors from venturing too far in the terminals. As soon as she was through the X-ray and metal detectors, she turned to wave good-bye one last time before resuming her journey.

  Rae stood riveted in place as airport traffic moved around her. She appeared oblivious to the jostling bumps of other travelers as she stared after Cori. She raised her hand in a taut wave and the next time Cori glanced back, all she saw was Rae’s back as she rounded the corner on the way out of the airport.

  Her brain told her it was for the best. A weekend liaison under the neon lights of Las Vegas, wasn’t that every tourist’s dream? Her heart screamed at her to run out of the airport and into Rae’s life. She couldn’t let herself do that. If Rae had truly wanted her to stay, she would have asked. Cori wondered how long the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach would haunt her. She knew Rae could chase away her longing with a touch, but until Rae held her again, it would stay with her like an unwanted visitor. Cori tried to shake off her melancholy as she plodded to the gate and boarded the plane. The fairytale was over. Time to get back to reality.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cori sat in her parents’ driveway, the windshield wipers droning across the glass. Each time her view was cleared the relentless downpour obscured it immediately. She missed the warmth of the desert, the warmth of Rae’s smile. She’d only been home a couple of days, but she was desperate to feel even a smidgen of what she’d felt with Rae.

  Her mom had peeked around the curtain several times in the last fifteen minutes, but she hadn’t come out. It was possible that she didn’t recognize the light blue Toyota. Cori had only owned it for a few months and hadn’t visited her parents since purchasing it. She needed to get in the house before her mom called the police. Or worse, her father.

  Since her return from Las Vegas, the urge to visit her mom had pressed heavily on her, pushing her to make the trip across town. She’d put it off until tonight, knowing that Wednesday was her father’s regular poker night. He never missed the game, claiming it gave him access to potential clients. Cori didn’t understand how that was possible, as he’d played with the same five guys for as long as she could remember, but she wasn’t about to point that out.

  Now that she was here, confronted by the squat Portland-style house she’d grown up in, she started rethinking her decision to visit. It was not like she would walk through the door and discover that her mother had suddenly morphed into Norma Sutherland. Still, it was too late to simply put her car in reverse and pretend she’d never been here. Too bad.

  Cori turned off the engine, pulled her jacket tight against the rain, and opened the door. When she rang the doorbell she heard rustling footsteps followed by an unnatural silence. It would be just her luck to have her mom pretend she wasn’t home while she huddled on the doorstep in the rain.

  Cori pounded on the door. “Mami, let me in, por favor. It’s cold out here.”

  Slowly, the door opened an inch, chain still in place, and her mother peered cautiously through the crack.

  “Dios mío!” She slammed the door and a moment later, threw it open all the way. “Corina, come inside. Why were you lurking in your car like a psychopath? You scared me to death. That car. Is it new?”

  The familiar scolding and pseudo ease faded as her mother led her down the long hall to the formal living room, a place for guests, rather than to the kitchen table. Family portraits, with their fake smiles and stiff poses, lined the walls, demarcating the passing years of her childhood. The last one was taken the Christmas before her youngest brother graduated high school. In the years since, the whole family had never come together for the holidays. Her mother and father, Louisa and Joaquin “Call me Henry, we’re in America now” Romero, sat ramrod straight in the middle of the picture Cori stared at, chastely holding hands, their children standing in a semicircle around them. Nobody looked happy.

  “What were you doing out there?” Louisa sat on the edge of the couch, folding and unfolding her hands in her lap. A large portrait of Cori’s late grandfather dominated the room from its position of honor over the fireplace. “I almost called your father.”

  “I’m sorry, Mami. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Cori gave a mental sigh of relief. She’d come inside just in time. “I’m glad you didn’t disturb Papi.”

  “Is that a new car?” her mother repeated. In her usual fashion, Louisa left the real questions unasked, preferring to stay with safe topics.

  “I bought it a few months ago.” Cori shifted self-consciously. The furniture in this room was for show, not comfort. Rain water pooled on the hardwood floor at her feet. “It’s a Toyota.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.” Louisa glanced at the clock on the wall. “Do you like it?”

  “It gets good gas mileage.” Cori wondered how many times she’d have to stop for fuel if she left for Vegas right now. Three, maybe four? “Do you want to go for a ride?”

  “No, no, no.” Louisa shook her head briskly. “Your father will be home soon. I don’t want him to worry.”

  Cori’s phone vibrated in her pocket, silent to her mother, but offering her a much needed escape from the thick tension of the room. She let it go to voice mail.

  “How is Papi?”

  “He is good. You know your father, he works too much.”

  For the first time, Cori listened beyond her mother’s words. He works too much was Louisa’s standard answer to any question about Joaquin. She looked tired. Maybe she was tired of cooking and cleaning for a man who was never home, a man who never said thank you. A man who had driven all of her children away, one after the other. Forget “tired.” Her mother looked lonely.

  “How are you, Mami?”

  Louisa stiffened. “I’m fine.” She said it with finality. No room for f
urther discussion.

  Cori heard a door open and close, and then her father’s voice. “Louisa? There’s a car in the driveway. Who’s here?” He stopped short in the entry to the family room when he saw Cori. “Corina.”

  He held out his hands. Even without the love, he expected his children to greet him with an arm’s-length hug and kiss on the cheek. Cori complied.

  “Papi, you look well.”

  Joaquin was a tightly built man. His body, his clothes, his hair, even his precise mustache, were all crisp, with sharp edges and hard lines. While he would never be accused of being inviting, he was almost always described as compelling.

  He evaluated Cori, his dark eyes seeking out every imperfection. “Corina, have you gained weight?”

  “No, Papi.” She’d actually lost a few pounds since she’d last seen him, but he would never acknowledge that.

  “Are you sure?” He tipped his head, his finger and thumb stroking the sides of his mustache. “Well, no matter.” He sat next to Louisa, his arms stretched across the back of the couch.

  “Your game ended early?” Cori asked as she sat carefully in the same damp spot.

  “Yes.” Joaquin offered no further explanation. He rarely did. “Tell me, Corina, have you met a nice boy yet?”

  Cori smiled, her teeth clenched, lips stretched thin. “No, Papi. You know I haven’t.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Boys aren’t good enough.” He looked at his wife. “What’s she call herself, Mami? A lesbian?” He drew the word out, over enunciating every syllable.

  Cori stood. “It’s time for me to go.”

  His lips thinned. “Sit down, Corina.” It wasn’t an invitation.

  Cori hesitated, cursing herself for ever coming here, then sat. “Yes, Papi.”

  “We so rarely see you. What have you been doing with yourself?”

  No matter how many times she’d been on the receiving end, it never ceased to amaze her how easily her father could turn a polite question into a judgment and inquisition all at once.