Montana

Stepping out of the elevator, Carson motions for me to walk toward the casino floor. His palm rests on my lower back, just above my bottom. The heat emanating from his touch nearly brands me.

He’s being such a gentleman. If I weren’t as careful as I am, I might start to swoon. I’m sure underneath his protective politeness he wants to drop me off with Peyton and get back to the privacy of his room.

“I think we’ll find Peyton near the tables,” ...