Don't Game Me (Game Lords Book 2)

by Zoe Forward

  “He already said no to me once,” she mumbled. She wasn’t sure how to further her be-my-date plan, not after he labeled her too high a risk. A flutter set up shop in the pit of her stomach. The nervousness now humming through her veins had everything to do with the scorching memory of Jake’s tongue in her mouth, not her potential failure to snag him as her date.

  Jake wanted her. Maybe she could make him jealous enough to say yes. Ridiculous idea. Maybe she didn’t need to forge ahead in the get-close-to-Jake order from Pascal. She hadn’t heard anything yet.

  She whipped out her phone. No new message.

  After selecting her coffee out of all the other coffees on the kitchen counter that she’d picked up, she checked her phone again, even though she hadn’t heard the ding for an incoming text.

  Nothing.

  “Becca, where are you?” her mom called out.

  As she strode down the hall and rounded into the main gathering room, her phone dinged.

  Pascal: Okay.

  Flummoxed, Becca tripped over the oversized decorative vase just inside the entryway to the dining room. She skipped a few paces before catching her balance. The vase hit the floor with a teeth-cringing shatter.

  “Becca!” her mom screeched.

  “It jumped out at me. I swear. Is it new?” She fell to her knees to collect the larger pieces of broken pottery. Okay to what? She was out? Couldn’t be that easy.

  “Are you hurt, honey?” Her mom stood above the shattered remains of the vase. Her tone conveyed mourning over the vase far more than concern Becca had been injured. “Did you forget your glasses?”

  “I’m fine. My contacts are in. I’m sorry. I didn’t see it.”

  “Leave it. I’ll get it later.” Her mom threw an arm around Becca as she stood and pulled her into a hug. She whispered, “Please try not to fall apart. I need you to keep it together for the next two days. That thing that happened at the wedding last year, catching the bouquet…don’t worry. It doesn’t mean anything.” Her tone conveyed otherwise. She smiled around the room. “We need mimosas. Did someone find the champagne opener yet?”

  “I can do it without some gimmicky piece of plastic,” Noah offered.

  Mom rounded on him with a scary glower.

  Noah’s eyes widened. “Sounds like we need to find that opener.”

  There were at least five other witnesses to Becca’s humiliation, including her brothers, her uncle, and Tori. They were all trying desperately not to laugh. Her face was going to spontaneously combust at this point from humiliation.

  She wanted to flash them the finger and shout an expletive, but Mom would break out in hives over such unladylike behavior.

  At least Jake missed it.

  Last night’s ten p.m. text from Becca’s mom labeled this morning a crisis. Jake pushed inside without ringing the doorbell or knocking. No reason to announce his tardiness, even though he was only fifteen minutes late. The condo reflected a wealth he’d dreamt about as a child and had earned after years of hard work. Yet, his success teetered on the edge of failure over a few huge bets he’d made for the company. If things didn’t go well with the next game launch and with their new product, it’d be over.

  His gaze caught on the classic family picture of the Harrisons in the hallway when the kids were young, two of the three boys in braces and Becca in bulky glasses. A few photos down included a picture of Jake and Noah holding a package containing the first game they’d ever launched together. He respected Noah’s parents, both of whom spent decades building a thriving paint empire, which started with one store in Queens and grew to over twenty all over New York City. Now retired and the business sold, Noah’s mom remained an ever-active volunteer and general busybody while his dad had cut down on his activities since the dementia started.

  Jake adored them. They represented a parental stability he’d craved as a kid.

  As he walked the lush hallway runner toward the kitchen, he heard Becca’s laugh. Rich, happy, and everything he remembered from each time he’d heard the addictive sound over the years.

  Yesterday’s kiss slow-replayed in his mind. She’d been so responsive. The small sounds deep in her throat had tortured him all night with visions of what happened once the door shut.

  Them lip-locking had been a mistake. A mistake he’d enjoyed. Greatly. But he wouldn’t allow it to happen again, no matter how much she tempted him.

  He pushed into the kitchen right on the trill of another one of her laughs. Becca gazed down from her post, perched high on the kitchen counter. A guy he vaguely recognized from Noah’s bachelor party, one of the other groomsmen, gazed up at her. Noah had told Jake he knew this guy from high school, but he didn’t seem particularly chummy with him. The guy’s mother was a close friend of Noah’s mom. It proved how little weddings were actually about the bride and groom.

  Jake worried Becca would fall when she stood on tippy-toes in heeled boots to reach something high on one of the shelves. Her sweater pulled up to reveal the smooth skin of her stomach. Could those jeans be any more skintight? His heart raced, and not just out of fear she’d plummet.

  “I could’ve sworn Mom kept one stored… Aha.” Becca removed a small plastic device and held it up like a trophy. Her eyes slid to Jake’s gaze for an instant. She raised a challenging eyebrow his way and wobbled.

  He lunged forward.

  “Whoa there, girl,” the groomsman beneath her said and put his hand high up on her shapely legs to stabilize her. His fingers were inches from her ass.

  “Why would anyone keep a champagne opener way up here and not in a drawer?” She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

  The guy with his hand almost on her ass gave her a charming smile. The bastard planned to make Becca his weekend wedding lay. Not in this lifetime.

  She granted the guy a look of gratitude.

  Every muscle in Jake’s body tensed. Look at me, not this asshole, he silently ordered her.

  The focus of her gratitude reached up, placed his hands on her curvy hips, and lifted her down to the floor. Her soft laugh traveled across to Jake.

  “What’s got you all wound up?” Noah asked beside him.

  Jake flinched from the shock of Noah unexpectedly beside him but didn’t answer. He couldn’t look away from what was transpiring between Becca and the prick she continued to gape at as if he were a god incarnate.

  “Did Becca do something wrong?” Noah scowled at Becca, who now acted oblivious to their presence on the opposite end of the huge modern kitchen.

  “I just got here,” Jake mumbled.

  “Looks like she found the champagne opener. Good. Mom’s got a burr up her butt to make mimosas this morning.” Noah called out, “Reid, thanks for helping Becca find it.”

  A surge of competitive sizing-up had Jake evaluating the groomsman from his wire-rim glasses to the purple polo shirt. Jake could take him, break him, and make him think twice about messing around with Becca. Reid met Jake’s gaze. His eyes narrowed for a fraction of an instant.

  Game on, asshole.

  Becca gazed in gratitude at Reid one more time. The guy asked her something he couldn’t hear. She giggled. Jake wanted to crush the schmuck.

  Becca could not want to hook up with Purple Polo Shirt. But this was Becca. She didn’t give up when she put her mind to something. And he was not rethinking her wedding-date proposal.

  No.

  He needed to stick to his decision. But he sure as hell wouldn’t allow her to go with Purple Polo Shirt.

  Reid made her giggle again. The guy had user written all over him. Reid was wrong for Becca.

  And you’re right for her?

  She might think she wanted a hookup but she didn’t want a meaningless one-nighter. The girl fished to hook Mr. Long-term. He wasn’t biting that bait. Reid wouldn’t chomp that lure either. Becca wasn’t naïve, and she sure as hell wasn’t a virgin. The six months she’d dated that schmuck in undergrad had driven Jake insane with how wrong the guy was for her—too bor
ing and starchy. Maybe she really was in it this weekend for a little short-term action.

  Why was he still debating this? He’d decided the answer was no.

  Noah asked, “Did you get held up by the call this morning?”

  “The German is being a bastard about merchandising. I got it figured out. I’m worried about the supplier for the goggles though. They’re still producing at a slower rate than they should.”

  Noah’s forehead crinkled. “I thought they were improving.”

  “They want another chunk of change to acquire a bigger labor force, even though I think it’s extortion.”

  Noah’s eyes flared wide. “We’re leveraged to the max. We can’t.”

  “I know.” His eyelids slid closed as the weight of expectation pressed down on his. “Damn it, I know. We’ll have them produce what they can by the deadline and hope there’s enough to meet early ordering demands.”

  “If the launch goes better than expected, then what?”

  “We can’t sell what we don’t have.” He glanced at the ceiling. “Never should’ve gone with this Malaysian company.”

  “Don’t tell Mom you were late because you were working. She thinks the next three days are sacred. Wedding business only.” Noah turned to leave. “It can wait until after the wedding. Until Monday. Let’s get through Mom’s crisis meeting. She’s holding court in what she’s labeled the Command Center, which is the dining room. I’m warning you, there are maps and sticky notes involved. This wedding has turned her into a mad woman.”

  “She commandeered my assistant forty-eight hours ago without even an apology.” Jake relied on Emma to keep him on schedule and field calls. She’d become an indispensible part of his workday over the past few months. He appreciated Emma’s assistant who tried to be as efficient and helpful as Emma, but she was nowhere close to Emma’s level of proficiency.

  “Emma’s been a godsend to help Mom, but why wouldn’t she be? She’s magical when it comes to organization. Sometimes I miss her as my assistant, but it’d be weird now being she’s about to be my sister-in-law.”

  Jake chuckled. “She still does half the work of your new assistant.”

  “Thank God for it.”

  Becca slid past them. The slight contact of Becca’s body bumping into him shifted his focus to her. Before he could say anything, she moved on. Purple Polo Shirt was hot on her tail.

  Jake stopped Noah before they entered the dining room. “Becca got stood up at the airport yesterday. I did too. She asked me to go to the wedding with her.”

  Noah’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

  “I didn’t commit. She seems desperate not to attend alone. I wanted to run it by you. I’d do it as a favor to you to keep her out of the hands of assholes like that.” His eyes darted to Purple Polo Shirt.

  “You and my sister?” Noah rubbed a hand over his face. “This must have to do with her catching the bouquet at my cousin’s wedding last year. There’s this family belief that the girl who catches either is engaged within a year or remains single forever.”

  “That’s stupid.”

  Noah’s exhausted gaze met his. “Not arguing it’s absurd. Hell, half the good-luck shit we’re doing associated with this wedding is ridiculous. I don’t have time to worry about her this weekend. If you go with her as a real-date-type thing and can manage not to end up in an argument, then okay. But you won’t end the night like you always do with your dates.”

  “She’s your sister. No way. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Total lie. He’d dreamed and would be dreaming. He’d do his best to keep it a fantasy though.

  “It’s weird, but okay. It might keep matchmaking relatives at bay for both of you.”

  As they entered the dining room, Carol Harrison smoothed her perfectly coiffed blonde bob and caught Jake in her sharp gaze. “You’re late.” She waved a hand. “No matter.”

  Jake moved a few feet behind Becca.

  Mrs. Harrison pointed at Jake. “I need you and Becca to go out to Long Island and pick up several printed items.” She handed Jake a map with several lime green sticky notes. One had a handwritten address and a phone number. The location would take them over an hour of driving one way.

  “You want me to go with him?” Becca glanced behind her to Jake. Her eyes narrowed when she met his gaze. She then glanced to Reid. “It’s just a pick-up.”

  “I need you to proof the menus, place cards, and programs. You know all the people on the list, and you’re familiar with the menu. If they messed it up, Jake will make them reprint.”

  Becca started, “He can handle—”

  Carol held up a finger, stopping her. “You will do this, Becca. And you’ll be leaving in a few minutes in order to make it back by two p.m. in time for us all to drive to the rehearsal together.”

  “Why are you waiting until the day of the rehearsal dinner to pick up printing?” Becca asked.

  Good question.

  “It’s when the printer said it’d be done.” Her mom cast her a stop questioning me glare.

  “What about the other guys?” Becca’s gaze passed around the room, resting none too subtly on Reid.

  Blood pounded between Jake’s ears. Her and Reid? Not in this universe.

  “No questions. I’ve got twenty-five errands and only six bodies. I got your father out of the hospital two hours ago. I’m running on three hours of sleep and coffee.” Mrs. Harrison whirled to Noah and commanded, “Open the champagne. We need a drink.” She pointed at Tori. “You and Noah have three magazine interviews in an hour. Don’t get drunk. Tipsy is tolerable.”

  Jake leaned in behind Becca and whispered into her ear, “You’re being too easy if the guy who helped you off the counter is your new hopeful for a wedding date. Play harder to get and be sexier.”

  She gazed up at Jake, startled, and pressed backward, pushing her curvaceous butt into him. Mistake or intentional? The pressure of her against his zipper was both exquisite and torturous.

  Carol issued orders to others and handed out maps. Noah mixed mimosas.

  “I’m making do since you’re not interested.” Her tone warned him she was up to something. “Do you have some hints for me, oh master of sex, to hook this date? I thought guys appreciated a girl making it clear she was available and willing.” Her eyelids dropped to half-mast, and her gaze focused on Jake’s mouth.

  Holy shit. This whole production was Becca baiting him into jealousy? It’d worked, damn it. “The only way I reveal sex secrets is if it involves me, and we’re both naked.”

  About a second after he said the words, he realized his mistake. A fierce, hot flush stole across her cheeks. Her eyes dilated. Now he wanted her in exactly that way. Not thinking about Reid anymore, at least.

  Unfortunately, his mind latched onto an image of unbuttoning her jeans and wrenching them down over her ass. Of touching her breasts and running his tongue up her neck.

  “What?” she choked out. The question’s delay reflected a high level of fluster. Now, this was more the Becca he knew. The confident temptress from last night had been a whole different species from the girl who preferred to argue with him.

  “We have an audience,” he whispered. He met Noah’s warning glare and grinned. Noah probably assumed they were trying to keep their newest argument on a lower level than normal.

  Jake cleared his throat. “We’ll get going and leave the mimosas to you guys. It’ll take us at least an hour to get there. Do we have lunch plans or are we on our own?”

  Carol pivoted their way and glared imperiously for a moment. She grinned, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “On your own. Back here two p.m. sharp. Be on time.”

  Jake saluted.

  Becca whispered in his ear, “I’m willing to negotiate to get those secrets.”

  6

  Endless minutes in Jake’s Mustang and all Becca could focus on was his words and her lame reply. She wondered if what he said had been a true offer of naked. The relatively inexperienced part of her
was terrified if he took her up on it.

  Naked with Jake.

  Felt like he meant it. Oh God, she wanted it even though it intimidated the hell out of her.

  Her jealousy plan might’ve worked. Could she follow through on what she’d been ordered to do? Pascal…

  She sent Pascal a quick text, careful to keep the phone out of Jake’s sightline.

  Clarify the meaning of “okay.”

  She chewed her lip, heart pounding.

  “Who’re you messaging?” Jake asked.

  “Someone on the West Coast about things.”

  “What kind of things?”

  Pascal: Excused from gaming.

  It was a start, but it wasn’t an exit. Getting out would never be that easy. Back to her original plan. Live to next week, meet her contact, and see if that offered a credible solution for a permanent exit.

  She clicked off the phone with a shaky finger and glanced at Jake.

  “Bad news?” Jake asked.

  “Work crap.”

  After more silence, he suddenly demanded, “What’s wrong with this work-study job?”

  A topic low on her list of want-to-discuss. “It’s not the opportunity I’d hoped for.”

  “In what way? Is someone harassing you or something?” Jake glowered.

  “It’s…” Tell him the truth. Maybe he can help. Her mind calculated the risk of divulging, something she’d done a zillion times. If she told Jake or one of her brothers, they’d go nuclear and drag her to the police or FBI. Pascal and Symphis would retaliate by releasing the video of her stealing. Regardless of if she’d been fooled into it, her crime was real and had led to the victim company losing millions in stolen tech. Aside from that, other players told horror stories of their attempts to leave Symphis’s organization and the catastrophic effects on their families done by Symphis to keep them playing.

  Not worth the risk.

  Carefully, she said, “It demands a lot of time. Not sure it’s worth the investment.”

  “You didn’t answer my question if someone is harassing you.”