Free Melt Into You by Lisa Plumley

and raucous clumps of college-age tourists that slipped away.
    “Did everything go all right today?” Natasha asked her mother-in-law ten minutes later. “With the birthday party?”
    “Everything was fine,” Carol assured her warmly. They’d grown even closer in the years since Paul had moved to Mexico to be with his “muse” full-time—since Carol had practically taken to arm-wrestling Natasha’s parents in the who-can-spoil-Milo-the-most sweepstakes. “Everyone had a very nice time.”
    “Good. I’d hoped so. What about the cake?”
    “It was practically hypoallergenic. Tasted like it, too.”
    “No nuts? No milk? No gluten? Are you sure?” Worriedly, Natasha scanned her memory for specific recollections of other parties given by the same hosts. “You know even the smallest amount can trigger a reaction, so it’s very important to—”
    “I’m sure,” Carol said. “Look, you just think about having a nice time in Vegas. Are you doing anything fun tonight?”
    Natasha squinted at the casino-goers, deliberating whether to share the news of her impromptu date. “I have a date.”
    “Is this a ‘date’ like the ‘date’ you had to work overtime filing overdue tax papers for your boss?” Carol asked with a hefty dose of cynicism in her voice. “At least that time, that nice Jason Huerta helped you. Or is this a ‘date’ to bail out Demon Damon from jail again? Wasn’t he extradited last time?”
    Demon Damon . “I asked you not to call him that anymore.”
    But her mother-in-law was on a roll. “I’ve got it! This is a ‘date’ to let yourself be worked to the bone by a self-centered, unappreciative jerk who can’t see all you do for him!”
    “You don’t know Damon,” Natasha argued for the umpteenth time. “You’ve never even met him. You don’t understand.”
    “I understand that you deserve better!” Carol said loyally. Then she sighed. “I’m sorry. Maybe I don’t know Damon, but I do know when you’re being taken advantage of, and it bothers me! I know your job is lucrative, but haven’t you saved up enough money to quit yet? You’ve been piling up savings—again, with Jason Huerta’s help—for years. By now you must be able to—”
    “It’s not about the money.” In fact, Natasha had amassed a substantial savings portfolio over the years. At this point, she had a very reliable safety net in place; the resulting security and peace of mind were worth a lot to her. “I like my job! Some parts obviously excluded, of course,” she amended as the memory of spritzing a nearly nude, mostly drunk, fringed-suede-loincloth-wearing Damon with the shower nozzle came rushing back to her. That had almost been the last straw. Seriously. He couldn’t have bothered to put on some pants? It was almost as if he was daring her to get fully fed up with him. “And you know I didn’t set aside all that money just to pay for daily expenses. Some of it is meant to finance my—”
    On the verge of explaining herself yet again, Natasha spied a blond, suit-wearing man headed toward her across the casino.
    Scott. He smiled and waved when he saw her. He was stuck behind a woman driving a motorized scooter. Patiently and kindly, he allowed her to pass. She nearly mowed him down in her zeal to get to the next bank of gleaming slot machines.
    At that only-in-Vegas sight, Natasha couldn’t help smiling. She’d tried her luck with those machines, too. She’d lost, of course. At least she hadn’t gambled much—only a few dollars.
    “I’m sorry, Carol. I’ve got to run. My date is here.”
    “Your date? Humph. If you want to keep calling it a date, you can. What I call it is wasting your time on a dyed-in-the-wool playboy. Demon Damon is never going to change!”
    “My date’s name is Scott,” Natasha specified with a smile, shifting her gaze to the man himself as he came nearer. He really seemed nice. Funny and sweet. “And the one thing we absolutely won’t be talking about