Cole took all the bright lights and glitter of the casino as nothing, but Joey stared wide-eyed at the hundreds of people playing slots, keno, blackjack and all the other games she didn't understand. She rose on her tiptoes to see over the shoulders of the people at the roulette tables.
      He grinned down at her. "Hey, who's the country hick here?"
      Joey bounced with excitement. "I've never been here before—-I can hardly wait!"
      He glanced at his watch. "We've got an hour. Want to lose a few dollars?"
      She checked her purse. "Okay. I can afford twenty dollars."
      He got the change for her, then watched her as she settled down in front of a slot machine. Tentative with the first few coins, she gained confidence and then played boldly, laughing when she won a few coins. Then she hit a small jackpot. The clink-clank of the coins tumbling out startled her until she heard Cole chuckling and saw him scoop up her winnings.
      "Hey! Look at all the money I won!"
      "Must be all of five dollars there." Cole laughed. "Keep this up, and you'll break the bank."
      A waitress came by and he selected drinks for them both. He handed one to Joey who thanked him and sipped absently, attention centered on the next roll.
      She won time and time again. With each win, she got merrier, more sprightly and vivacious. Cole loved it. He kept track of her winnings, lining up plastic container after container of coins in front of her as she played one machine, then another, until she had a whole row going.
      "All right! This is more like it," Joey crowed when two machines poured out coins. The buzzer over her head shrilled abruptly, signaling a bigger win.
      "What are you going to do with all your winnings?"
      She thought a minute. "I'm going to get us each something to remember our trip to Las Vegas."
      "You're going to get me my own showgirl?" he teased.
      "I can do better than that." She laughed and fed another bill into the slot machine. "Just wait and see."
      "Hey. You want to keep on playing, Lady Bucks, or do you want to go see the show?"
      "Umm." She glanced longingly at the slot machines and then at the entrance to the lounge. Cole waited, a happy, relaxed look on his face.
      "Well, we did come to see the show." She jiggled her container full of coins. "Will we have time for me to play just a little more afterwards?"
      "Sure," he said expansively. He'd promise her the moon to keep that exhilarated look of wonder on her face. "Let's just cash these coins in-—" he paused when he saw her face fall. "Look, honey, they're too heavy and bulky. You can get more later."
      "Okay."
      Grinning at how quickly she perked up, Cole brought her back a sheaf of bills. Joey counted them in disbelief. "There's three hundred dollars here! Wow! I'm rich!"
      Exuberantly, she threw her arms around Cole's neck and kissed him soundly. The kiss lasted forever; it was over much too soon. Joey sank back and looked up into eyes burning bright with desire. "Oh, Cole. What are we doing?"
      He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. "We're going to go watch that show. We'll talk later."

      Joey rolled over.
      It was a mistake. The pain threatened to take the top of her head off. Moaning, she put her hands to her temples and pressed hard. Her stomach roiled, she spared one hand for her abdomen. Oh, sweet heavens, she was never going to drink again. She should have known better. She'd never had a head for alcohol.
      She remembered drinks with the slot machines, more during the show, and then wine with dinner. She was a half-beer on a hot day person, why had she consumed all that alcohol?
      Her mouth was dry. She licked her lips. It made her dream of kisses, of love-making, of laughter and pleasure she thought she'd never know again. The images were so real she could have sworn she saw Tom--no, not Tom, but Cole! Cole touching her, caressing her, making love to her slow and sweet, and then again fast and frantic. If that's what booze did to her, she'd never drink it again.
      She slit one eye open and took in the murky dimness of the room. This wasn't the RV. She saw her clothes scattered by the side of the bed, then the half-full crystal champagne flute on the nightstand. Champagne? She never drank the stuff. It gave her the most god-awful headache.
      Knitting her forehead, she tried to remember. First the slots. She remembered the joy of piling up those coins. It had been crowded and noisy and fun.
      All right, what happened next? The show. She and Cole had enjoyed it as much as she'd expected. They'd held hands during the tender ballads, and stomped and clapped along with the rowdier ones. Once or twice he'd stolen a kiss then allowed her to reclaim it.
      Flushed with enjoyment, they'd had dinner. She remembered insisting they toast her luck with their wine. They'd done that more than once. After that, she'd played the slots again, until her luck ran out. They'd walked down the Strip to try another casino. Had she won there? Her memories blurred.
      Kisses, she remembered kisses. Light-hearted ones when she won again and deeper passionate ones that made her head spin. More slots. Cole's laughter and more kisses. Another drink to celebrate a big win. Her head reeled as she thought of how much she'd had to drink. Then what? She remembered a cab ride, and then?
      Groaning, she rolled on her back, then to her other side, glimpsing the rest of the room through barely open eyes. She curled up, knees to chest, and tried to sleep. Her eyes popped open.
      She hadn't been seeing things. That was Cole's Stetson on the television set. He must have forgotten it last night, just as he had his boots.
      His boots? She stared at his scuffed boots, at the worn spot on one sole. What on earth were they doing by the side of her bed?
      "Good. You're awake."
      Jolted upright by Cole's deep voice, she grabbed the sheet to cover her breasts then dropped it to hold her head. Pain exploded behind her temples. She closed her eyes, but the brilliant color-bursts behind her eyelids didn't fade. If anything, they seemed more vivid.
      "What...what are you doing here?" she croaked.
      "Where else would I be?"
      Shuddering, she peeked at his bare chest, at his jeans low on his lean hips. Despite her head pounding and the unanswered questions, heat rose within her at the sight of his almost nude body. His chest seemed so much broader without his shirt. The ropy muscles of his arms and the deep shoulder muscles proved he was a hard worker, but that wasn't what made her mouth go dry.
      With the evidence surrounding her, it was apparent that they had spent the night together, but still she had to ask, "Did we ...uh...?"
      He studied every inch of her. His lip quirked. "We did."
      "Oh," she moaned and sank back down into the mattress. She covered her eyes with her forearm. So it wasn't a dream. She searched her mind, but she had only the vaguest memories, of kisses, deep, soul-sharing kisses and intense pleasure and a sense of rightness. In a moment she'd work up a good case of the guilts over going to bed with him, but right now she couldn't even think straight.
      "Hung over?"
      "I never drink that much. I don't know what came over me."
      "Sit up a minute."
      "What for?" she protested but she opened one eye.
      He offered her a glass of water and two aspirins.
      "Thanks."
      He stood by the bed while she drank them down. The heat from his body his body warmed hers until she handed him back the glass and lay back down. She pulled the sheet over her face. "Maybe I'll just die from embarrassment."
      "Not used to waking up like this?"
      She started to shake her head and thought better of it. "Could you go away and let me die in peace?"
      He laughed. "You'll feel better after you've had something to eat."
      Her groan was his only answer.
      "Joey."
      She lowered the sheet enough to uncover one eye. "Please go away."
      "I don't think so."
      The amusement in his voice grated on her. "Look, I'm feeling bad enough as it is. Do you have to laugh at me?"
      "I'm not laughing, honey."
      "Sounds like it to me. Why don't you go back to your room?"
      "My room? Why would we have two rooms?" He stared at her, a strange expression on his face. His jaw tightened. "You don't remember?"
      "Remember what?"
      Cole walked over to the dresser and picked up a piece of paper. He waved it at her.
      "What's that?" she asked.
      "This doesn't ring a bell?"
      "The only bells are in my head. I wish they'd stop clanging."
      A fleeting grin crossed his mouth. Then, his expression grim, he strode back to the bed and handed the paper to her. "You'd better read this."
      She reached for it with shaking fingers and missed.
      The paper fluttered through the air and landed on the edge of the bed. She scooped it up and tried to read it. He flicked the bedside lamp on, making her wince. She snapped her eyes shut and then opened them slowly.
      She looked at the paper. Her head ached even worse.
      She studied the paper, as if this time the lipsticked kiss mark would disappear. She re-read the words.
      "We're married?"

Oh, oh, looks like trouble ahead. Ready for the next chapter?

Chapter Eight -- posted December 7, 1997

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Last updated: January 4, 1998