The Wager (15 page)

That’s it. Grandma had put a microphone on his body. Somewhere. She was listening, always watching. Holy shit, she was working for NASA.

“You been good?” She played with the box, and then, seeming to remember she was holding it handed it over and paused. “Wait, these for you?”

Char reached for the box. “Yeah, they are. Right, Jakey?”

Jake could only nod while little parts of his manhood floated away before his very eyes. May as well go grab a Nicholas Sparks movie and sit at home with a bottle of wine and talk about his PMS.

He was done for.

“Well, uh.” Stacey started backing up slowly. Like any sane woman would when faced with this type of situation. No doubt she was thanking God for small favors as she disappeared down the aisle.

“Okay.” Bob clapped his hands. “Let see what else that treasure for a grandmother put on the list.”

“Yes.” Char grinned. “Let’s.”

“Really?” Jake ground out as he elbowed Char in the ribs. “A tiny problem? You know that’s not true. I mean, you really know that’s not true.”

She shrugged.

Damn it. You know a man’s desperate when he’s ready to strip his clothes down and flash the man at the drug store just to prove a point.

Either desperate or eager for prison.

Holy shit when would this day end?

“Ah, here we are.” Bob said, pulling out a small white bag with a prescription stapled to it. “This should help immensely. Now, be sure to only take it when you need it. If your erection lasts for longer than four hours, seek medical help immediately. But it should truly improve the honeymoon. If you get my meaning.” He winked at Char.

She giggled back.

“I don’t need that.” Jake crossed his arms.

“Your grandmother said—”

“She’s senile! Last week she wanted to do a Vegas show with tigers!” Jake yelled.

“Now son—”

“Jake.” Char patted his arm. “It’s okay to admit when you have a problem.”

Forcing himself to grin, he turned to Char. “You know what, sweetheart?”

Her eyes smiled. “What?”

“You’re right.”

“I am?” Her smile fell as her eyes narrowed.

“Of course.” Jake wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Which is probably why Grandma opted against the liquor or wine in the basket.”

“But—“

“Drinking problem.” Jake nodded his head toward Char. “It’s okay, though. After all, you’ve been clean for how long, sweetie? A day?” He snapped his fingers. “Oh wait, never mind, I forgot about the flask in your purse. Baby, it’s good to know we can talk about these things together. Maybe now that you’ve told me you’ll stop drinking we can get pregnant. So, so thankful for that fertility test.”

Char’s eyes flared to life. “Yes. So thankful.” Her words were clipped. “After all, if you take the Viagra at least I’ll be able to remember the fact that we even had sex!”

“Oh, you’ll remember!”

“Funny, last night I made a grocery list!”

“For more alcohol!” Jake shouted.

They were nose to nose, breathing heavy, and for some insane reason all Jake could think about was kissing her. Hard. Teaching her a lesson and then pushing her against the counter, preferably
away
from the fertility test, and having his damn way with her, over and over again.

Her eyes flickered to his lips.

Jake reached for her but she reached for him first.

Their mouths collided with such force that Jake groaned.

Her lips were plump and tasted like wine and salt. Good Lord he wanted to lick up and down her body until she begged him to stop.

“Um, Mr. Titus.” Bob cleared his throat.

Jake jerked away from Char.

“T-the, fertility test.” Char said hoarsely. “You know, all those magical baby-making powers and stuff.” Her eyes closed as if she realized how lame she just sounded.

“We’ll take it all.” Jake wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and watched as Char shook her head once and walked out of the store. Shit.

“Now, would you like me to add in any candy for an extra fifty cents?” Bob asked.

“No candy.”

“Gum.”

“No gum!” Jake pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just what Grandma had on the list.” Bob shrugged and took Jake’s credit card then very slowly put everything into a bag. As soon as Jake got his receipt he ran out of the store. Char was waiting by the car. His footsteps echoed on the concrete as he walked up to the BMW. “You okay?” She sighed and turned to face him. “Well I do wish I had a flask.”

“Oh yeah?”

She managed a smile.

Jake shuddered. “Well, I don’t wish I had to use extra small condoms, thank you very much.”

That brought a smile to Char’s face as Jake unlocked the car for them to get in.

“So that’s it,” he said before starting the car. “Mission accomplished.”

“Right.” She nodded. “Guess so.”

“Yeah.” Irritated with himself, Jake prodded her further. “So you need a ride to the airport or anything Thursday?”

“Um, no, no I’m good.” Char licked her lips. They were still swollen from their kiss. What the hell had come over him? It was the fertility test—well, damn if it didn’t work without ever taking it out of the box.

He gripped the steering wheel hard, and managed to keep his smile as tight as the rest of his humming body.

“Jake?” Char said after a few minutes of silence. Jake was seriously contemplating just pulling over the car and attacking her.

“Yeah?”

“About the wedding. Do you think they’ll let any press inside, you know, to cover some of the pre-ceremony details and family interviews?”

Poor Char, she was probably worried her face would be splashed all over the news again. He needed to put her at ease. “Not at all. Kacey was really specific about no media. So you have nothing to worry about. They don’t want to turn it into a field day. I mean, you know as much as me what happens when the media gets involved.”

“Right.”

“No offense.” He cringed, momentarily forgetting she was a reporter. Though he hadn’t seen her on the news in a while. Not that he’d been some creepy stalker who’d Tivo’d her channel or saved them or anything. He cleared his throat. “So how’s work?”

“Swell.”

“You have any big projects coming up? Curing world hunger or something like that?”

“Something like that.” Char let out a breath and looked out the window. “I’m sorry, by the way.”

“For?”

“The condoms.” She turned to look at him; the moonlight reflecting through the windows of his car highlighted the curve of her delicate neck.

He adjusted himself in his seat and managed to clear his throat, sounding relatively normal and not at all as turned on as he felt. Damn. When was the last time just the mere appearance of a girl had him acting like he was fourteen again? “Yeah, well, I’m sorry I called you an alcoholic.”

She smiled, the type of smile guys dream about at night, the smile that holds promises of forever and stolen kisses, lots of laughter, and… He shook his head. Not on the agenda, not in his life, not his future.

He pulled up to her work where her car was parked. Soft music from the radio played in the background. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t meant to be, except it felt like one. It was awkward in the same way first dates are. You know, the kind of date where you’re terrified of where to put your hands, if you have food in your teeth, or whether you’re giving off a creepy vibe.

Char reached for the door handle and pushed it open. “See you later, Jake.”

“Yeah.”

He let her walk away.

Again.

It seemed as if he was always doing that. She was always walking toward something and for some reason it made him want to chase her. As if she was a zebra and he was a lion in need of pouncing on her.

Did he only want her because she was angry as hell and hard to get? Or was it more? He put his car back into drive and turned up the music.

Reality. He needed a large dose of it. Either that or a cold shower. Travis had warned him away and for once in his life he didn’t really feel like letting Travis or Kacey down.

“Siri,” he said aloud to his phone. “Find me the closest bar.”

How was it fair that even though Char and Jake weren’t dating, all she wanted to do when she got home was open up a giant bottle of wine and watch bad reality TV? He’d done nothing wrong.

Other than being mind-numbingly attractive, treating her like a princess, then accusing her of being an alcoholic.

She smirked, and opened the bottle of wine, pouring herself a glass. Beth was already asleep but Char still couldn’t get the afternoon’s events out of her head. As typical of any girl, she wanted to dissect every last piece of conversation she and Jake had had until she could figure out what it all meant. Was he just being nice? Turning over a new leaf and all that? Or was it all a ploy to get her into bed again? Was he just being that guy until he had what he wanted? And did he even want her to begin with or was he suddenly just bored with his playboy lifestyle?

To add to her list of already growing problems—he’d said no media. Maybe if she presented her case differently, was completely honest with him and said she’d be jobless just like him if she didn’t cover it. Would he take pity on her? Then again, she was damn good at her job; that one little incident didn’t define her, all she needed were some details of the wedding, a few pictures, and she’d be golden. Nobody ever had to know it was her that gave the information up to the press. Besides, wouldn’t they rather have a friend cover such a special day than some random person with a camera? Was it right for Char to even ask such a favor? Especially given the stress of the wedding? She didn’t want to add more, and honestly it wasn’t Kacey’s problem that Char’s boss was a greedy ass who had no moral compass. The quiet ticking of the clock in the bedroom didn’t matter. It was like being on
Jeopardy
.

She put herself in Kacey’s shoes: What would she do? Kacey always did the right thing, even if it killed her. Char, on the other hand, wasn’t marrying into a Titus fortune. She needed money to eat! After getting her demotion, she knew this was the final straw. If she didn’t get the pictures, her dream of being on the news would be officially over. So what if she just asked Kacey? Or Travis? Or even Grandma? A headache began to pound at her temples.

Her phone went off and she looked at the screen. It was an e-mail, which she quickly opened. One word. That’s all it was. One word and a question mark.

Well?

It was from Mark. The only answer she could come up with rhymed with it, Hell, and that was it. As if she needed another sign, Kacey’s face popped up on her cell.

She needed advice, wise counsel, something, anything. Or maybe just another chat with her boss. Maybe if she explained the predicament he’d back off?

Groaning, she closed her eyes for a second, allowing all the stress of the day to wash away from her. She needed a job. Period. Jake Titus? Well, that was more of a want, and she still hadn’t figured out if he’d lost his mind or somehow just found a heart in that muscular body of his.

With a grunt she sat on the couch and flipped on the TV. Soon her eyes felt heavy and she fell asleep.

* * *

The sound of the TV jolted her awake. Slowly, Char rose from the couch and grabbed the remote to turn it off.

But when she reached for the button, something on the screen caught her eye.

“Holy crap.” She turned it up, more awake than she’d been in hours.

“Millionaire playboy Jake Titus returns to party scene.” The reporter said. “He was seen downtown at hot spots Brazeel and Ice. Sources say he left with not one, but two women on his arm. Rumors have gone rampant over the past week, ever since Mr. Titus was asked to step down from Titus Enterprises. Women all over Seattle must be happy to see the city’s most famous bachelor in high spirits and back to his old self.”

The remote fell from her hand.

Shaking, Char took a sip of wine.

The ass.

He was toying with her, playing a game, and she’d totally fallen for it again! How many times in the past few days had she promised herself she wouldn’t fall, and yet she justified her feelings because he had seemed so different.

Clearly, leopards didn’t change their spots.

And Jake Titus could sleep with whomever the hell he wanted. She was done, completely done.

The first thing Jake thought when he woke up alone in his bed was that God had taken away his sex drive in order to punish him.

But if he was really being honest…

It wasn’t God.

It was Char.

He wasn’t sure if he should hate her or just run over to her house and have his way with her over and over again.

Two girls, both gorgeous, both models… and nothing. Absolutely nothing. Even the whiskey had turned sour in his stomach the minute they’d both started stripping in front of him. He’d actually told them he had to go to the bathroom.

An all-time low.

The bathroom? Had he lost his damn mind?

He pulled a total chick move, ran into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat with his head in his hands—shaking, yes, shaking over the fact that he’d completely lost control of his life.

All because of a stupid girl he’d met at a stupid junior high camp, that had a stupidly amazing body with stupid bright eyes and luscious lips and—

Well, at that point, in the bathroom, he had more than a drive back.

But then he heard the girls, the twins, calling his name.

And there it went.

Down the toilet.

He sat there for ten minutes. Then, walked out of the bathroom making the lamest excuse known to players everywhere. “Look, I’m just not feeling it tonight. I’m sick.”

The girls both looked at one another and then approached him. Twin one had a black lacey bra and underwear on and twin number two was wearing nothing at all.

Maybe he was gay?

Once they were close enough to touch him, he stepped away. Their perfume was literally suffocating him. Why couldn’t they smell more like Ch—

“Shit!” He yelled, causing both girls to jump. “Sorry, it’s not you guys, it’s me.”