Money For Something

10 - Sure Shot

**Willow**

I needed to get my head read. Not that I had any doubts, but official confirmation that I'd lost my mind would be nice.

Admiring Ace's leanly muscled physique would place my feet firmly on the road to ruin. Even if said muscular physique sported an intriguing array of dragons, vines and ominously beautiful flowers tattooed in black and grey across it. Ace's hair was colourful, but his tattoos were stunning in their monochrome simplicity. His habit of running around shirtless in our room or beside the pool did not help with my determination to keep my eyes to myself.

I deserved to hang my head in shame. I was mourning the breakdown of a relationship, damnit. Objectively speaking, it should have been easy to keep my eyes averted from Ace's muscular glory. Jack, the scumbag asshole, was in most people's eyes better looking than Ace. Or to be more precise he was more classically handsome. Jack could have graced the cover of a magazine selling suits if he wasn't busy playing guitar in a band and screwing groupies, but his classic good looks left something to be desired when compared to Ace's chaotic charisma.

Note to self - stop drooling over Ace's hotness.

I should have been focusing on healing my broken heart, not ogling Ace's ass as he bent over, searching through his duffle bag for a sweater. The desert can get cold at night, but I was feeling a little flushed.

He lifted a hand, brandishing the desired item with a cry of triumph and turned to face me. He'd covered up most of his ink with a black button-down shirt, subtly patterned with a thin silver pinstripe. When he raised his arms to thread them through the sleeves of his plain black sweater the shirt lifted to reveal a sliver of skin above the waistband of his black jeans.

I swallowed hard hoping to encourage a bit of moisture back into my suddenly dry mouth.

His head emerged from the neck hole of his sweater, and he asked, "Ready for dinner?"

We'd ordered room service on our first night, worn out and unwilling to make even the slightest effort after our long drive from Las Vegas. Tonight, we were venturing into the restaurant. We'd reserved a table and would be continuing our charade as blissful newlyweds.

"Almost done," I said slipping on the blue heels that I'd bought to wear with my wedding dress. My budget wasn't up to buying trophy shoes that I planned on wearing once. Everything in my wardrobe needed to be capable of pulling double duty. Take for example the dress I was wearing; with its leopard print pattern it could be worn as a coat or as a dress. As a coat it had an extra lining that could be clipped in as well as a faux fur collar. It had started life as a dress for someone much larger than me, most decent women's wear in my budget was, but the extra fabric allowed for it to swing delightfully around my knees once I'd worked my magic on it.

I ducked into the bathroom and applied a layer of red lipstick. Mostly I kept my make-up minimal other than the lipstick, but the lipstick was non-negotiable, it made me feel like the best version of myself. I'd tested dozens of red lipsticks until I found the one that worked perfectly with my red hair.

As I snapped the lip back on my lipstick, I caught a reflection in the mirror of Ace leaning in the doorway and watching me. "All ready," I said making eye contact with his reflection.

"The red lipstick suits you," he mused his eyes dipping to my lips, "but it must be a bit of a bastard when you're snogging someone."

That surprised a laugh out of me. "It's a long-lasting formula, but honestly? I barely remember the last time I snogged someone. It was probably about five months ago." Or more like six, but there was something pathetic about admitting you'd planned to marry a guy you hadn't even kissed in six months.