She let out a breath. "I don't know what to say. I, well, I'm… honored that you consider me the catalyst for changing your life in such a positive way." She paused. "That sounds completely dorky. I'm just… thank you for telling me that."

I grinned over at her. "Don't take too much credit. I did all the hard work."

She laughed. "Yes, you certainly did."

We both smiled at each other in the dim cab.

"So," she said, "how did you end up in security in Vegas?"

"Me and my buddy Leland got injured in the same ambush. His family owns Trilogy. He got medically discharged and asked me if I'd like to come to Vegas with him and take the head of security job. It sounded like a good opportunity." I shrugged. There was so much more to it than that, but I couldn't tell her about that part, not now.

"Where did you get injured? What happened?" she asked quietly.

"I was shot in the back," I said. "Luckily the bullet went straight in and out, minimal internal damage. And my hands were burned." I held one up but in the dim light of the car, even I could barely see the scarring on the palm side of my fingers.

Grace sucked in a breath. "My God…"

"Wait," I said, changing the subject, "you just got my whole story out of me in the car ride to dinner. What are we gonna talk about now?"

She laughed. "We'll probably figure something out."

I smiled as I pulled into a parking garage and drove up a couple levels before finding a spot. In just a few minutes, things were easy and comfortable with Grace again.

We got out of my truck and started walking to the elevator.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Well, I didn't exactly make reservations. But I have three or four ideas for you to choose from that shouldn't need one."

"Can we do hot dogs?" she blurted out.

I laughed and looked over at her. She was grinning.

"Seriously?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What? You don't like hot dogs anymore?" she asked as we came to a stop in front of the elevator.

"I love hot dogs. I just don't think I've had a hot dog since… well, since I had a hot dog with you."

She laughed. "Me neither! Let's do it."

I looked over at her. God, she was so pretty. My hands were itching to touch her. I fisted them at my sides.

A couple seconds later, the elevator doors opened and we stepped in. As it jolted, starting its descent, my eyes met Grace's and we both laughed, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Here I was riding an elevator with Grace Hamilton again. Life was wild.

We stepped off when the doors opened and walked to the entrance to the strip. It was December and the air was cool, but not cold, perfect walking weather.

"Do you come to the strip a lot?" I asked as we headed toward Pink's.

She shook her head. "Rarely. My best friend, Abby, and her husband, came in for Thanksgiving and I took them here to walk around, but Abby's pregnant so it was the tame Vegas tour."

"The roommate you lived with when I first met you, right?"

She glanced over at me, looking slightly surprised, and nodded her head.

"Your fiancé doesn't ever take you to get a hot dog?" I had to bring him up. I had to know what her relationship with him was like. The word itself, fiancé, told a story. But it didn't necessarily tell the whole story.

She bit her lip, not looking over at me. "Alex is more of a homebody, I guess you'd say," is all she said, but I thought a look of disappointment swept over her features. Interesting.

We got to Pink's and I held the door open for her. Grace grinned at me as she walked through. The hostess led us to a table and I pulled Grace's chair out for her. "M'lady," I said.

She laughed as I scooted her close to the table and took my own seat. We both took off our jackets and when the waiter came over, we both ordered a beer.

"So tell me more about why you decided to become a prosecutor," I said.

She looked down and played with her napkin for a minute before responding, "Actually, Carson, I have you to thank for that. After we talked about it here," she waved her arm toward the window, indicating Vegas, "I realized that it was what I really wanted. And I made it happen. So… thank you."

I leaned back in my chair and smiled. "Really?"

"Yeah, really." She smiled at me. "Anyway, I took my first job in D.C. but there just weren't any openings in the court I wanted to be in, and so I started applying to different cities and ended up here. And I love it. I really, really love it."

I smiled at her. "That's great, Grace."

She blinked at me, looking like something had just occurred to her. "Your friend…" she said.

"We can talk about that another time, okay? It's a weird situation, but… let's just catch up tonight."

She nodded, pursing her lips slightly. The waiter came over with our beers and took our orders.

When the waiter walked away, Grace said, "That's what you ordered the last time." She grinned.

"I know. You ordered the same thing too."

She nodded and laughed.

I held my beer up. "To fate," I said. "She's a tricky bitch." I meant that in more ways than I could explain.

She huffed out a breath and raised her eyebrows. "That's for dang sure," she said and clinked my bottle, smiling over at me and tilting her head.

Our food came a few minutes later and Grace dove right in. "See," she said around a mouthful of chili cheese dog, "I learned from last time."

I laughed at her and dove into mine too. I could feel cheese sticking to my chin and something gloppy on the side of my mouth.

Grace put her hand over her mouth and laughed out loud, her eyes dancing. "How in the world are you not taken yet, Carson Stinger?" She laughed. I grinned at her but then the smile faded from her face and she just kept looking at me, her eyes wandering down to my mouth as I wiped it with my napkin. She licked her bottom lip and I felt my cock jump in my pants. Fuck.

"Grace–" I started.

"Anyway!" she said brightly, crossing her legs under the table, "this was a really good idea. I need to eat more hot dogs." She stopped and furrowed her brow. "I mean, you know, you can never eat too many hot dogs." She frowned more. "I mean, you probably can. There is probably a recommended hot dog limit, but I fall too far beneath–"

I laughed out loud. "Okay, Buttercup, you can stop now," I said.

Her eyes flew to mine and her cheeks flushed pink. We stared at each other in silence for several beats before she finally whispered, "I missed that."

"Me too," I said quietly.

"Why do you call me Buttercup, Carson?" she asked quietly, her eyes growing even bigger.

I smiled slightly. "Maybe it's because you're as pretty as a flower," I said.

She stared at me for a couple beats, opened her mouth as if to say something and then closed it again. She shook her head slightly as if clearing her mind. "Carson, I'm engaged," she said.

My jaw tensed. "Yeah, Grace, I know that."

She searched my face and then shook her head slightly and looked down again. "I'm sorry, that sounded… bitchy or something. I didn't mean to imply that you–"

"Grace," I interrupted, "it's okay. Really. I got you, all right? Let's talk about something else. I'm having a good time with you."

She nodded, smiling slightly. "Okay, thank you."

I nodded and then took another big, sloppy bite of my hot dog. She grinned and then did the same with hers.

We finished our food and the waiter came over and cleared the table. We chatted about living in Vegas for a few minutes as we each finished our beers. When the waiter came over with our bill, I paid and we started to get up to leave, putting on our coats.

"This was fun," Grace said.

I smiled at her. "Yeah, it was. I've wondered for a lot of years how you were doing and it's great to see you so happy."

She paused, smiling, but it looked strained. "I am. And same here. It's great to see you doing so well, looking so… well."

We stared at each other for a few beats and then she moved, breaking the spell. We headed for the door.

"Do you want to walk past the Bellagio fountain?" I asked her. "For old time's sake?" I smiled down at her.

She laughed. "Why not? I haven't been there since… well, you know since, you." She glanced up at me, her smile fading.

We walked in silence for a few minutes before she said, "So, Carson, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," I said, as we started across the street.

"Did you do that film that you were scheduled to do the morning after you left Vegas?" she asked quietly. I glanced at her and she lowered her eyes, but kept looking straight ahead.

I hesitated in answering her as we made it past a small group of people, and then I took her hand and pulled her to an empty spot at the edge of the stone railing looking out to Lake Bellagio.

We stopped and she pulled her hand back, staring up into my face. "I showed up," I said, in answer to her question.

Her eyes darted away from mine but when I continued with, "But I didn't follow through with the shoot. I left and I didn't come back," her eyes darted back to my face and I thought I saw her shoulders relax.

"Oh," she said. "Well that's… good."

I nodded, not breaking eye contact. God, I wanted to kiss her so badly.

"I looked up your films," she blurted out, her eyes widening.

I froze, my eyes narrowing. What. The. Fuck?