Free Love on the Boardwalk by Christi Barth Page B

expected.”
    “Stop poking at him,” Darcy scolded. “Are you surprised to see us?”
    He swerved to avoid a scavenged room service tray on the tan carpet. “Definitely. Didn’t the captain pitch a fit about you not being in the squad room with me already gone?”
    Coop’s navy sport jacket lifted as he shrugged. “I put in a full day before we hit the road. We’ll go back Sunday night. I only miss one shift tomorrow. Not a big deal.”
    But Brad knew it was a big deal. Coop must’ve offered up one heck of a favor to the captain in order to get the schedule changed at the last minute. Which meant he now owed Coop a favor. When the first snowfall finally hit, probably next month, he’d head over early and dig Coop out. Maybe a couple of times.
    “Let us take you to dinner,” Darcy offered. They got into the elevator already stuffed with a bellhop, a luggage cart and an old couple wearing their casino players cards on lanyards.
    “Only if you let me buy the wine.” He drummed his fingers against his leg. Happy as he was to see them, it felt weird. Brad didn’t want to be pitied. Or have people worrying about him anymore. Enough of that went down all summer long. “Seriously, did you drive all the way up here for proof of life? ’Cause a phone call would’ve saved you two hours and a fat hotel bill.”
    “I didn’t think there’d be anything more serious going on with you than a killer hangover. Dana’s a speck in the rear-view mirror of your life.”
    Damn straight.
    The elevator doors swooshed open. A wall of sound banged at them before even setting one foot in the lobby. Three lines of people all clutching wheeled weekender bags jammed the space in front of the check-in desk.
    The casinos in Atlantic City were just as big on decorations as a theme park. Caesars had the whole Roman Forum thing going on with girls in plumed gladiator helmets and little else posing with lucky winners, a toga bar, and marble columns everywhere. The Wild Wild West, including a mechanical bull, silver mining cars and a bar that looked like it was carved out of a desert mountain range, occupied part of Bally’s. But the Atlantic Dunes Resort Casino took home the prize for cheesiest décor, hands down.
    Every wall had a floor-to-ceiling cartoon mural of beachgoers beneath an almost solid roof of umbrellas. Each gambling section was denoted with a kite-shaped sign. Crashing waves echoed through the sound system. And animatronic sea gulls flapped from corner to corner. The whole thing seemed kind of pointless to Brad. Since all you had to do was walk outside, cross the Boardwalk and experience all these things for real.
    But something still didn’t add up for Brad. “So why the road trip?”
    They headed down a hallway lined with slot machines. Darcy put herself in between the two men and grabbed both their hands. “We talked about it a little. A non-honeymoon sounded flatter than old soda. Atlantic City is more fun as a group activity.”
    “We can dance, drink and party in AC way better than we would’ve at some stuffy country club wedding reception.” Coop tugged at the open neck of his pale blue shirt. “Plus, no ties required.”
    “And this is a good relationship hurdle to get out of the way,” Darcy added. “Coop and I have never been on a trip together.”
    Brad snorted. “Well, I’m not sure that making it a threesome with me is what’s good for your relationship.”
    Darcy came to a stop. Patted his cheek. “We just want to help cheer you up.”
    “There’s a lot of that going around. Your pal Trina’s on the same mission. And I gotta say, she’s doing one hell of a job.” With a head jerk, he indicated the entrance to a family-style Italian joint. Coop stepped up to give his name to the hostess wearing a tie covered in wine bottles over a tight black shirt.
    “You ran into Trina? Talk about random.” Darcy bit her bottom lip. “I wonder why she didn’t tell me.”
    “Maybe she didn’t want to