The Dare (12 page)

When I'd woken up in the hospital, I was
changed
—
everything had changed. My
parents had said I wasn't the same, but I had no idea why. It had
made me even more paranoid about pleasing them, about getting
things right. Getting my career right.

Speaking of careers, I grabbed my phone from
the nightstand and was rewarded with a low-battery signal. I got up
to grab my bag then remembered that I didn't have a bag. The same
checked bag that had yet to appear.

My guess was that Grandma was holding it
hostage. Or maybe Jake and Travis. Those bastards must have known.
And how the hell did the woman have this planned a month ahead of
time? A month ago I was saying yes to her scheme with Char and
Jake.

A light bulb flickered on in the darkness of
my brain.

I'd said yes.

That's where I'd gone wrong. I should have
stayed far, far away.

Russia. I should have moved to Russia.

"Beth." I nudged her a bit.

She was lying on her stomach, wearing the
outfit from the night before. She stretched, her shirt inching up
on her body, exposing her flat stomach and a slight scar where her
appendix had obviously been.

She moaned again and lifted her arms high
above her head.

The shirt followed.

So did my eyes.

I blinked a few times, fascinated with how
smooth her skin looked. I wanted to touch it
—
to hell with that, I wanted to lick it. Had I licked
it the other night?

"Jace.

Her voice was low, sexy as hell, raspy. Shit,
I was in trouble.

"What?"

"Do we have to go to couples' therapy?"

"Aw, sweetheart, backing out already? Where's
your balls?"

"I don't want balls." She yawned. "I just
want a damn charge. I have girl parts. I talk a big game. I use big
words. Right now, I want a big-ass coffee and a big sleep."

"Stop saying big."

My body was responding to that word in a very
big
way, and I was already struggling after watching her
yawn and stretch and mew all over the place.

"Fine. Large. I want a large coffee, a
large
—
"

I covered her mouth with my hand. "Let's
establish mornings as quiet time. A time of reflection, and
thinking, and
—
"

She bit my damn hand.

"Coffee."

"Bite marks." I showed her my hand.

"Woo me."

She fell back onto the bed in a heap, and I
had to admit I liked the bossy attitude. I got up and started
fumbling with the Keurig.

The shower turned on.

"I'm so proud!" I yelled without turning
around. "You turned it on all by yourself."

And I turned myself on by saying
turn
on.
Damn curse! I gave myself a little shake and placed the cup
under the spout.

"Aghhh… mother of
—
"

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump
.

Absolute silence then an ear splintering,
"Jace!"

I ran toward the bathroom.

"So big!" Beth yelled.

The shower was one of those walk-in ones,
where there was no curtain or door or anything to hide any scratch
of your body.

Beth was standing in the corner with a
shampoo bottle in her hands, pointing at the opposite corner.

The first thing I noticed was her nakedness,
but it was quickly trumped by another shout and a shampoo bottle
flying by my head, causing another thump.

"Get him!"

A spider that looked a hell of a lot like a
shrunken MMA fighter barreled toward me. Now, I wasn't a fan of
spiders. I didn't hate them, but that didn't mean I particularly
enjoyed the idea of something hairy sinking its fangs into me. So I
did what any logical man would do.

I looked for a gun.

And when I realized I wasn't James Bond nor
did I live in a spy novel, I grabbed the next best thing.

The hair dryer.

It wasn't plugged in, but it was big enough
for combat. I smashed the hell out of the spider until all that was
left were tufts of legs and pieces of hair.

"Did you get him?" Beth came up behind me,
shivering.

"Yeah" I wiped my brow with my arm, "it was a
battle. Lots of lives lost. Blood shed. But… I got him."

"My hero," she whispered, wrapping her arms
around me from behind.

I froze.

Not because she was calling me her hero.
Please, I wasn't that narcissistic. It was because she was naked.
And she had forgotten about her nakedness at a very fortunate
time.

Men everywhere:
Applaud. I didn't even
react. Not one gasp or shudder. I simply basked.

Basking:
Another word
for utter stillness when a lady is pressing against you in such an
erotic way all you can do is close your eyes and smile.
See also: Euphoria.

"I'm naked." Beth released her hold. My body
immediately tightened in all the wrong places, and I'm ashamed to
admit, I let out a pathetic whine. Or maybe it was a growl, because
the next thing I knew, I was turning around and pushing her into
the shower, up against the wall, and taking her like a
—

Great, so not only had I frozen in a euphoric
state, but I had resorted to daydreaming.

"Thanks." I saw movement out of the corner of
my eye as Beth leaned back under the shower and closed her
eyes.

It was like watching my own personal Pantene
Pro-V commercial, only the girl was hotter and available.

But not to me.

Not in reality.

"Are you going to watch me, or are you going
to get ready?" Beth said, water dripping from her face.

"Do I get a choice?" I half-pleaded.

"No, but you'll get a knee to your balls if
you don't leave in five seconds. The spider's gone, you've saved
the world, now take your hammer and go."

"Uh, hammer?"

"Hammer, hair dryer
—
same thing. Go, Thor. Go get your cape on. We have
therapy."

Men. We're easy. No really, we are. She'd
basically called me an Avenger, which, in my book, meant I was like
two steps ahead of Iron Man, and a hell-of-a-lot
better-looking.

I sported a smug grin the entire time I got
ready.

****

Thanks to the water-stealing princess, I
wasn't able to shower in time. And Doctor Z had specifically said
that we needed to be on time. Not wanting to start off therapy on a
bad foot, I took one for the team.

"It's only an hour, and then we have what the
schedule states as
Couple Fun Time
by the pool." Beth
checked her watch and handed me the map of the place.

I locked the door to our hut and turned the
map sideways.

"North," I said, examining the red circle
that said
Serenity Circle.

"I don't like that name." Beth snorted. "It
sounds like a place to get high."

"If they have drugs, just say no." I stuffed
the paper into front pocket of my lame-ass linen shirt and grabbed
her hand.

"What are you doing?" She tried to pull
away.

I held tighter. "What does it look like I'm
doing?"

"Holding my hand." She squeezed back, and
then a girlish smile appeared, all sense of hostility evaporating
instantly.

"That I am." I pulled her closer and inhaled.
Damn, her shampoo smelled good. "You said you wanted six days of a
fairytale. I thought holding hands was a good place to start."

"Oh."

Her face turned crimson, and I instantly felt
it in my gut as if someone had taken a baseball bat and beat me
crapless.

She'd never had her hand held.

I'd bet money on it.

Girls didn't blush over things like that.
Most girls didn't give a rat's ass. What type of man wouldn't hold
her hand? What type of man wouldn't first at least try to woo the
shit out of her?

Wrong wording. One should not woo shit out of
anyone, but I digress.

Sighing, we walked hand-in-hand toward the
building, and I made myself a promise. One I knew I would most
likely regret this time next week.

I was going to actually try. I was going to
leave my baggage at the door, check into the happy romance hotel,
and make her feel wanted.

And when it was time to leave, I'd do so
without looking back. But I'd also do so without any regrets, and
that was reason enough to take the leap.

"How did the senator take to being
cursed?"

"He wasn't tickled pink, that much I know. He
threw my very expensive fertility necklace into the ocean!"

"Tragic loss," the man said dryly.

"Oh it was!" Grandma pounded her tiny fist
onto the metal table. "One can't simply purchase fertility
necklaces anywhere!"

"I wouldn't know."

"Well, I would." Grandma sniffed. "After
all, I've spent years collecting them, storing them in my
grandsons' cars, houses, offices, boats
—
"

"Ma'am, are you saying you've been this way
for… years?"

"What way?"

"Insane."

Grandma smiled. "Some people's definition of
insanity is genius. What's your take, Gus?"

"My name's not Gus."

"You look like a Gus. I'm going to go with
Gus."

The agent looked longingly back at the glass
window. "I think it's time for a break."

Beth

Holding hands with Jace was like riding a
school bus for the first time. You were all sixes and sevens with
your own body. Not sure who to sit by, not exactly positive you
were at the right stop, so you keep looking out the window to make
sure you didn't miss your own house. And then when you did per
chance miss your stop, you couldn't care less because you'd already
made friends with everyone and were really enjoying the ride.

"This is it." He let go of my hand.

The stupid bus stopped.

And now I had the infamous children's song,
"The Wheels on the Bus," playing in my head like a broken
record.

"I think we just go in." I clenched my hands
together and moved to knock when the door was pulled wide open.

"No. Way." Jace swore and then kicked the
doorframe.

Grandma pointed at the ground. "I think you
killed an ant."

His nostrils flared. But he said nothing.

Grandma clapped. "Oh good. It's still alive,
look." She pointed down.

Jace looked and stomped at least five times
before regaining control of his body again.

"Oh dear. Well," Grandma touched her hand to
her cheek, "I guess he's dead as a doornail now."

Jace stomped again.

Pretty sure Grandma was driving him over the
edge. I grabbed his hand and squeezed. At least he stopped
stomping.

"Come in, come in!"

Grandma opened the door wide and led us into
a small office with a trickling waterfall and two black leather
couches. The wall facing the door was a floor-to-ceiling window
that looked out onto the ocean. All in all, if this had been my
office, my life would be complete.

"Sit," Grandma said sweetly.

Jace released my hand and sat on the leather
couch. I waited for him to start rocking back and forth.

He didn't.

I exhaled.

"So," Grandma took a seat opposite us, "tell
me about yourselves. Why have you chosen Ocean Breezes Couples'
Retreat?"

My mouth dropped open. She was kidding,
right?

"You. Put. Us. Here," Jace said in slow curt
language.

"Poppycock." Grandma lifted a cup of tea to
her lips and chuckled. "I do love that word." With a sigh she took
another sip. "Tea?"

I took the tea just so I'd have something to
do.

Jace took a long sip and closed his eyes. He
was probably trying to find his center, or whatever people called
it.

"Is it bedroom trouble?"

Jace spit out his tea all over the table.

"Oh," Grandma's face fell, "how difficult
that must be for you, Beth, to have a man who can't…" She cleared
her throat then mouthed,
perform.

"That's it."

Jace lunged for Grandma, but I mom-armed him
and handed him his tea again, much like a mom would hand a kid a
ball to keep him distracted.

"Listen, Grandma…" I used my calm voice,
which sounded a lot like my pissed-off voice, only not as loud.
"You drugged us, brought us here under false pretenses, forced us
into a couples' retreat where we have to go to therapy as if we're
a real couple, and now this? You, as our therapist? Excuse us if we
aren't exactly in a great mood."

Grandma set her tea down and sighed. "Grandma
Nadine isn't here at the moment. Hold one second." She reached for
her purse and pulled out a leopard scarf then proceeded to wrap it
around her neck, put on another application of lipstick, and then
popped a cinnamon Tic Tac in her mouth. "Alright, now you may refer
to me as Grandma Nadine. I have to separate the two titles for
HIPPA privacy issues, you understand."

"Fine. Grandma," I clenched my teeth
together, "you said you put your meddling behind you, and you're
worse than ever!"

"I see that you're confused." Grandma shook
her head. "I apologized for drugging you, brought you here to
protect you from the media and give you a vacation, Beth, and used
my own money to give you a free stay at one of the US's top ten
honeymooning locations. Now, did I leave anything out?"

My mouth snapped shut.

Jace's eyes narrowed.

"Nobody said you had to participate in
therapy." Grandma shrugged. "I just thought it would be beneficial.
Take it or leave it."

"We'll leave it," Jace answered, standing
up.

"Alright, I'll let Dr. Z know that you've
refused treatment." Grandma smiled into her tea.

"Wait." I held up my hand. "What happens if
we refuse treatment?"

"Oh nothing, dear, don't be such a
worrywart." She licked her lips and hid her smile behind her tea
cup.