Chapter 5

Danielle

The light sizzled off the fireman's glistening chest as he danced above me. My mouth hung open, and I vaguely wondered if this much excitement was healthy for the baby. He gyrated feet in front of me, one hand behind his head, one grasping the waist of his yellow pants, as The Weather Girls' "It's Raining Men" blasted from speakers. My girlfriends, Sam and Max, were shouting over my shoulder, but it was as if they were far away at the end of a tunnel, rather than sitting behind me at a long table in a Vegas ballroom. The would-be firefighter smiled, maintaining eye contact as he peeled his yellow slicker all the way off and dropped it in front of me. His body rippled sinuously, its liquid movement rolling from the top down. Heat rose in my face, and melted other parts of me.

"Oh. My." I laughed, shading my eyes with a hand and tearing my attention away from him. I turned to place both elbows on the table. Sam and Max roared, enjoying my discomfort. They insisted I get the seat closest to the stage when they found out I'd never been to a male revue in my life.

I shouldn't have taken my eyes off the naughty slice of man-flesh though, because the next thing I knew, a pair of shiny, black, rubber boots were planted on the table inches from me. As I lifted my head, my gaze traveled up the long, lean form of the dancer, and I felt guilty for smiling.

The part of my brain I could never shut off completely thought about how many serious injuries we would have if it really did rain men, but Sam was too far away for me to share my thoughts with her. The mothering part of my brain thought, "Won't he need that jacket to protect himself from the flames?" The wife part was imagining Tucker in suspenders and yellow pants and thinking he'd do quite well as a stripper. But at the core of it all was one single expression, automatic, and eclipsing all other thoughts, "Damn. These guys are sexy."

"What's your name, hon?"

Someone at a table behind us slapped me on the back. "He likes you."

The sensations firing throughout my body short-circuited my mouth. "I... um...."

"Dani!" Max shouted. "Her name is Dani."

The guy looked at her, then back at me. "Dani?" His eyebrows shot up, but he continued to smile at me with glowing white teeth set off all the more by his tan. He ran a hand through his short, dark hair as he thrust his hips like a porn star.

"Danielle. Actually," I heard myself say.

With the agility of a panther, he jumped to the floor next to me. He brought one of his hands up to grasp the back of my chair and leaned in. I was certain he would have been giving me a lap dance, if I'd had a lap. As it was, I battled an urge to put my hand over my stomach to shield my innocent baby from the highly obscene things he was doing with his body. Why he didn't target Samantha or Maxine, or any one of the many hysterical women shouting "Come show me your hose," was beyond me. They not only would enjoy his little personal show, they probably would join in with a few moves of their own. I, however, was listening to the chorus of the song and trying to determine how much longer I would be the center of attention before he moved on. Other "firefighters" who ventured out into the audience were returning to the stage, but my stud-muffin took his hand from the back of my chair and buried it in my hair.

"Pregnant women are so hot."

Really? What is it that gets ya? The swollen ankles? The circus tent clothing? The belly button threatening to change from an innie to an outie?

But to my relief, the other dancers were calling him back to the stage. Apparently, his name was Theo.

"Thanks, Danielle."

Two similarly clad men bracketed a ladder ascending to the stage between our table and the next, and Theo climbed it. He demonstrated some incredible upper-body strength at the top by raising his legs to a ninety-degree angle, then straightening into a handstand. Changing his grip, he maneuvered around to face the audience, then dismounted with a flourish. He winked at me, and the crowd cheered and whistled.

Five minutes later, my heartbeat was down to a more normal level when a big man in a suit approached our table.

"I'll need to take that phone," he said to Sam. She gave me a blank stare and I shrugged. He turned his gaze on me, trailing it along my "MAID OF DISHONOR" tank top before explaining, "You can't take video."

Sam ran a hand over her "FROM MISS TO MRS. WITH MY BITCHES" tank, probably to emphasize she was the woman of the hour, but handed the phone over. "I wasn't videoing." I'd noticed her texting a lot, probably checking in on Kyle at his bachelor party, but I didn't think she was recording anything.

The man took a look at the phone, while blocking the view of dozens of women who were now yelling at him to either take it off or get the hell out of the way. He didn't seem too amused. He begrudgingly returned Sam's Android. "Make sure you don't take any," he warned, guaranteeing she would be shooting as soon as he made his way beyond our table.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Somebody takes their job too seriously."

"Yeah. And he got the wrong gal." Max tapped her cell. The lights twinkled off the gold lettering on her tank, matching our design, spelling out "COUGAR" across her chest. "I've got every single gyration right here."

I laughed. "Leave it to Maxi."

Sam high-fived her. "We need to patch some of that footage into the wedding video. You know, a few seconds of me going up the aisle, then bare-chested construction workers, then Kyle and I cutting the cake, followed by that one policeman with all the hair. And so on."

Max's head bobbed as she roared with laughter. "That'd be great."

After the show was over, Sam and Max went on stage to get their picture taken with the dancers. To my horror, I was called up for a group photo. Then, thankfully, we left.

"So what did you think?" Max queried after we got out into the hall of the casino.

"About the show?" I shrugged. "It was good."

She slugged me in the arm, a bit too hard. "Oh, come on. You can't tell me that fireman didn't start your engine."

I hedged. "I will say I was impressed by the amount of strength displayed by all of the dancers." I decided to change the subject so Max couldn't browbeat me anymore. "Sam. Who are you texting with? Alex?"

Our friend Alexis was having migraines of late, and was in her room upstairs resting. The doctors thought it might be a hormonal imbalance, but as yet weren't able to figure out how to control it. Poor thing gave up caffeine, alcohol, and now barely clad cowboys, all for the sake of her headaches.

"No. I figure she's sleeping." Sam was clicking away on her phone's keyboard as we spoke.

"Hey. I've got to use the john real quick." Maxine hurried off in the direction of a well-labeled restroom. The letters on the sign had to be at least three feet tall. Everything was big in Vegas.

Sam and I found a short wall to lean on while we waited. It sectioned off one of the many bar areas in the casino. I did some people watching but after a bit was drawn by Sam's quietness. "Well, if it's not Al you're texting, it must be Kyle."

"No." I waited for further explanation. "Unfortunately it's Bill."

Concern flooded me at the sound of her ex's name. "The kids are okay, aren't they?"

She didn't answer at first, just stared as yet another message flashed on her screen. I wanted to rip the phone out of her hand and throw it across the room.

"Sam? Are they okay?"

"Hmm. Sure. Sure. It's not that."

A tiny bit irritated I got alarmed for no good reason, I snapped, "Why on Earth would he be calling you when he knows you're having your bachelorette party?"

"Of course he does. That's why he's calling. To try to ruin it."

"Don't let him." She looked at the screen again. "Why are you even reading them?"

"Well, at first I thought he might actually have something important to say. Like, about the kids or something."

"Okay...."

"I did quit reading them for a bit. Then he tricked me and sent them from Elise's phone."

"Well, did you—"

"Hey. I'm back."

Max's voice made me jump. "Man. We need to put a bell around you."

"I didn't scare the baby out, did I?"

"No, Max. It's not like it's a case of the hiccups." I looked at Sam, then back at her. "You sure were quick in the bathroom." Too quick. I didn't have time to interrogate Sam.

"I get in and get things done." She was all business, all the time. She looked from me to Sam. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," Sam quickly interjected. "We were trying to figure out what to do next."

"Well, I'll tell you what to do next." She looped a hand over our shoulders. "We get Sammie here a shot. Or two. Sorry, Dani."

"No. No. That's okay." But it sort of scared me how disappointed I was not to be able to join them. Shots were my thing.

As we waited at the bar, Sam again looked at her phone.

"They're here!" she exclaimed happily.

"Who?" Max and I asked at the same time.

"The boys. They didn't go to the strip club because Todd was 'on a heater.'"

Max made a fist and drew her elbow into her side. "Yes!" She was clearly thrilled her husband was hitting the jackpot, probably anticipating a cut from the winnings.

"They said they're at the table closest to the entrance."

Once we had our drinks, Sam blazed a trail across the casino. As we approached, I surmised Todd must have been the only one winning, as the others were standing behind him, no longer playing. Kyle spotted us first.

"Ahh. The Bride Tribe has returned. No worse for wear, I hope?" He wiggled his eyebrows as he pulled Sam into his arms.

"Nah. We're good. I hope no one was wearing you?"

"Only the dealer. She wore me out." The guys laughed. Sam ran her gaze over the brunette still dealing to Todd. Her brow was creased. "So how were your firemen and cowboys?"

"How did you know we had firemen and cowboys?"

The whole group turned to look at me and Kyle answered for them. "Because they all have firemen and cowboys, Dani. It's not a show unless you have 'Save a Horse,' ride a cowboy, or—"

"'It's Raining Men,'" Tucker inserted.

Kyle nodded. "Exactly. I think it's in The Stripper's Guidebook to the Universe or something."

I gasped. "They played both those songs."

Max rejoined us, as Todd shooed her away. "They sure did. And we almost needed to use some of those firemen's equipment to hose Dani off. She got a little up close and personal with one of them."

Tucker raised his eyebrows. "She did?"

"I did not." I frowned at Maxine. She knew Tucker was the jealous type. Even though Tucker said they weren't close, having his first wife cheat on him had to at least be a blow to his ego. And to bring guys back to their apartment while he was there, that had to be shocking.

Max chuckled. "Come on. He practically gave you a lap dance."

"I have no lap, Maxine."

Everyone laughed at that. Tucker hauled me back against him by my hips. "You taking that whole Maid of Dishonor thing too seriously?"

I turned my head sideways to speak to him. "You know I'm not." I lifted my chin so he could give me a kiss, which he did. The kind of kiss that resonated all the way down to my swollen feet.

Kyle cleared his throat. "Well, I hate to be a party-pooper at my own party, but... I'm exhausted."

He didn't look tired. In fact, if the way he was looking at his soon-to-be wife was any indication, I don't think they were headed straight to sleep. Straight to bed, maybe.

Tucker faked a yawn. "Yeah. Me, too." He smiled at me. "Beat."

Kyle nodded at him. "Wiped out."

Tucker spun me in his arms, and I slipped mine around his waist. "Absolutely deplete of energy."

Kyle's grin was brighter than the lights on the slot machines. "Not an ounce left."

"No," Tucker agreed, brushing his lips over mine again.

"Oh, brother," Max muttered. She moved back over behind Todd. "Come on. Let's go to bed."

"But I'm winning."

She leaned in to whisper, but said it loud enough it would have embarrassed me if I were her. "I brought new toys for tonight...."

Todd was frozen with his chip-holding hand hovering over the green felt of the table. With Max's statement, he hurriedly stuffed the chips in his pocket and stood. "I'm out."

The dealer pouted. "But you're winning."

He looked her in the eye. "You're too young to understand this, but there's winning, and then there's winning. I'll be doubling down on my wife here."

"Ooh," we all called, and Tucker whistled. Maxine looked pretty pleased by Todd's response.

"Where's Chris?" Alex's husband was nowhere in sight.

Tucker turned me toward the elevators. "He went to check on Alexis about an hour ago and never came back."

We all headed to our separate rooms.

When we got to ours, Tucker sat on our bed and unbuttoned his cuffs as I slipped off my shoes, my feet sighing in relief. "So. About this fireman...?"

I worked my way between his muscular legs, and he ran his hands along the backs of my thighs. His head came up and I pressed my palms against his finely chiseled cheeks. "Why would I mess with him when I've got the best right here?"

He grinned and bent to brush his lips over my protruding stomach. "Did you get that, baby? Your mom has the hots for me."

I pushed him back and climbed on top of him, straddling his pelvis. "You got that right, roadie." It would always be his nickname since we met backstage, even though he rarely worked for rocker Chase Hatton any more.

It was hard to feel sexy in my present state, but Tucker made me forget that. He was careful and considerate of my condition, but he made me know how much he needed me all the same.

* * *

The next morning, as I was putting my earrings on and preparing for breakfast before catching the flight back to Omaha, a thought niggled at me. Tucker came in the bathroom behind me to grab his razor.

"You know, Sam was texting like crazy during the show last night."

"Who? All of you guys were there except Alex. Was it her or the kids?"

"Neither. It was Bill."

"Bill? Why was she talking to that loser?" Tucker shared my distaste for Samantha's cheating, self-serving ex-husband.

"That's what I'd like to know."

* * *

At breakfast, Max slammed a large gift bag onto the table. "This is for you, Tucker."

"For me?" He looked at me, then reached for the bag. "What would you have gotten for me?" He removed some tissue paper and chuckled, drawing out a toy fireman's helmet.

"Ooh." I batted my eyelashes.

He reached in again and held up a cowboy hat. Everyone laughed, except for Alex, who looked confused.

"I don't get it."

"A long and very uninteresting story." I rose.

Max rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

I gave her a hard stare, which she ignored. "If you'd all excuse me, I need to use the ladies' room. Again."

Sam also got to her feet. "I'll go with you."

"Great. Then I can explain the hats," Max said, leaning into Alexis.

I put a hand on my hip. "Do I need to stay here and correct your falsehoods and exaggerations?"

Max looked over. "No. I've got this."

"Great." There wasn't much I could do about it, I had to go. Plus, it would give me a chance to be alone with Sam. "Come on, girlfriend."

She almost ran into someone on the way to the bathroom as she was looking at her phone. When I came out of the stall to wash my hands, she was leaning against the tile wall, responding to a text. Samantha was an intensely private person, so information would need to be extracted carefully.

I nodded at the phone. "Bill again?"

She hesitated, then set it on the paper towel dispenser to fluff her hair. She wasn't herself. Like she was participating without actually taking part. "Yeah." She sighed.

I looked at her in the mirror. "What does he want?"

She froze for a second, then continued working on her hair, which was perfect anyway. "Me, I guess."

I inhaled sharply. "You?"

"Yep."

"Well, you're not considering it, are you?"

"No. Hell no! Hell to the no. Not happening. Ever."

I began to breathe more normally. "Well, that's good. You haven't completely lost your mind." She started to brush past me, but I stepped in her way, studying her face. "There's more to it than what you're saying. You've put up with Bill's crap for years. You can usually blow it off, but not this. Why?"

She looked off for a second, then reestablished eye contact. "He keeps saying Kyle is going to cheat on me."

"Well, that's ridiculous."

"Come on, Dani. You're so naïve. Any guy can cheat."

"Any guy can, but not every guy does."

She looked away again, lifting a shoulder. "I really hardly even know Kyle."

"That's crap. You've known him for as long as I've known Tucker."

"But he's not Tucker. He's been a player all of his life and—"

"Until he met you. That should speak volumes. He loves you, Sam. He's not like Bill. He has a huge heart. He'd never do anything to hurt you."

"He's on the road. Some girl could come on to him. He could have a moment of weakness...."

"Is that what Bill's telling you?"

She dropped her head, putting a hand on her brow. "Yes," she snapped. "That, and all kinds of crap. 'Takes a cheater to know a cheater.'" She gestured with one hand. "He's driving me freaking crazy! He even sent me a picture of the dealer they had last night. Saying Kyle screwed her while we were at the show."

"Of their specific dealer?"

"Yes."

A shiver ran up my spine. "That's creepy. Is he here?"

"Not that I know of. He's supposed to be with the kids. And I've caught pictures of them on Facebook at the county fair."

"Then how'd he get that picture?"

"He claims Kyle sent it to him. That he was bragging about doing her, and me, in the same night."

"You know that's not true. The guys were with him the whole time."

She shrugged. "They might have lied for him."

"Well then there's the whole thing with her pit boss getting pissed if she left her table to quote, unquote, 'screw' a customer."

"I know. You're right. The words sound so stupid coming out of my mouth when I'm with you, but...." She sounded tired.

I sighed. "Did you sleep well last night?"

"No. I can't sleep. His words, they're poison. Like listening to 'My Sharona.' You can't get it out of your brain."

I had to laugh at that. It amazed me she could be funny even in a crisis. I wrapped my arms around her biceps. "He's using the insecurities he created in you when he cheated to manipulate you. You are a strong woman, Sam. Most women would have fallen apart after catching their husband with a friend the way you did, but you made it past that. Don't let him take you there again."

"You're right." She exhaled and the tension seemed to leave her shoulders. "You're right. I don't know why I let him get to me."

We walked back to the table, taking our time so we could finish our conversation. "Isn't there some way you could block him?"

"I thought about that. But... you know how much I worry about the kids. The idea something could be wrong with them, and he couldn't reach me... I can't handle that."

We wove through tables. I dropped my voice as we were getting closer to ours. "Have you talked to Kyle about it?"

"Are you kidding? He's prone to violence. He'd kick Bill's ass."

"And that would be such a bad thing?"

She smiled at me, more Sam-like than she'd been in weeks. "Maybe not."

Kyle rose as we approached the table. "Ahh. My lovely bride."

She kissed him on the nose. "Bride-to-be, mister. Don't count your chickens before they're hatched."

"Uum." He looked at me. "Dani, do I have anything to worry about?"

Although he said it jokingly, I sensed concern in his eyes. I wished I could reassure him.

"I don't know. She is Sam," I joked.

"Yes. I know. That's what worries me."

Everybody laughed, and the conversation moved on, but Kyle remained quiet for a bit. Surely, he recognized Sam was off. But by the end of the meal, she sweet talked him back into a good mood.

I watched them and worried, wondering if my best friend could be capable of throwing away the best thing that ever happened to her.