The Wager

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “Kacey? It’s Grandma.” She yelled into the phone so loudly that Char jumped half a foot. “Kacey! I can’t hear you! Oh wait, just wait.” Grandma stood and walked over to the window. “Yes? Is that better? Oh, lovely, I say this gown would look fantastic on you, Char! Come over here.”

  Not really given a choice, Char shuffled over to the mannequin in the window. “It’s a wedding dress.”

  “I know!” Grandma put her hand over the mouthpiece. “It would look divine on you! Just try it on! Just this once; go on! I’ll just be a minute.” Grandma shooed her away. “Kacey! Kacey! Sorry, I was talking to your little friend. She’s beautiful by the way and—Oh, I see…”

  Char shifted uncomfortably while she searched the racks for the dress in the window. Her fingers came into contact with its delicate silk. It was a beautiful dress. But it wasn’t as if she was getting married. Wasn’t it bad luck or something to try on a wedding dress before you even had a groom?

  “Try it on!” Grandma shouted, causing Char to jump. “What a lovely idea, Kacey. Yes. Yes, I understand. Yes. No. No, you let Grandma work her magic. Yes. No. Now, Kacey… Fine. Tell him I’ll take that wager.”

  Char paused, hoping if she was quiet enough she could hear what the heck Kacey and Grandma were talking about.

  “Try it on! Shoo!” Grandma made a motion with her hand and turned her back toward Char. “You tell Travis it’s a bet.”

  Char carefully pulled the silk dress off the rack and went into the dressing room. Oh well, what did she have to lose? She shimmied out of the brown bridesmaid dress and carefully unzipped the white silk wedding gown. It was entirely open in the back, meaning she couldn’t wear a bra. It fastened just behind her neck and dipped somewhat low toward the front. Once it was zipped on the side, she looked in the mirror.

  Damn. She was not going to cry. Not over a pretty dress. Sucking in the ridiculous tears, she opened the curtain and stepped onto the platform in front of the mirror.

  The dress felt incredible against her bare legs, she swished this way and that and then heard clapping.

  “Question,” an irritating male voice said from behind her. Her head jerked up to see Jake’s reflection in the mirror. “Isn’t it bad luck to try on a wedding dress before you even have any prospects?”

  Damn him. “No.” Char glared. “It’s not. Besides, Grandma said it was a good idea.”

  “Famous last words.”Jake whistled. “Grandma’s also standing in the middle of the window display shouting into a shiny zebra phone as if the person on the other end is on Mars. Not sure I would use her as a solid excuse right now.”

  Irritated, Char snapped. “Is there a reason you’re here? I mean other than because you got fired.”

  His face paled.

  Char grinned triumphantly.

  “Vacation…” He coughed. “Actually, I got a text from Travis saying he needed me to pick up a few things for him and get fitted for a tux. So, yes. I’m doing my best man duty.”

  “Best man?” Char repeated. Dread made itself permanently comfortable in the pit of her stomach.

  “I can tell you’re excited by your perky attitude. Oh wait. Maybe it’s just because you aren’t wearing a bra. My mistake.”

  “You’re an ass.”

  “Thank you.” He smirked.

  Crap, Char wasn’t sure if she should cover her chest or just give him a view of her goodies, flaunting to him once and for all that he’d had her but wouldn’t ever have her again.

  His hazel eyes darkened. “If it’s any consolation—I like the dress.”

  Char swallowed slowly as he took a cautious step toward her. Why did he have to be so beautiful? His golden brown hair had that glistening wave to it that normal people only saw on glossy magazine covers. His smile was deadly, and right now his eyes, those piercing eyes, were locked on hers.

  She licked her lips as he took another step.

  The room was suddenly too small, too hot, too everything. He held out his hand to help her off the platform.

  She really shouldn’t have taken it. Because the minute her skin came into contact with his—she remembered. The scorching night she’d shared with him had been anything but forgettable. The way his lips felt would be permanently etched in her memory, never to be exorcised.

  “Jake!” Grandma peered around the mannequin and yelled. “Help her out of that dress! We have a wedding emergency! Hurry!”

  “Right.” Jake released Char’s hand and shook his head as he took a step away. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve helped you out of your clothes, huh, Char?”

  And special moment gone.

  Ignoring the burning sensation on her face, Char walked into the dressing room and pulled the curtain.

  “Don’t you need help?” came Jake’s voice.

  “I think I know how to undress myself, Jake.”

  “Yes.” His warm chuckle made Char want to smack him. Shivering, she reached for the zipper. “But when I do it, it’s unforgettable. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Fine. She’d had enough. Refusing to let him think she was afraid of him touching her, she took his challenge. With a huff Char pulled open the curtain. “Prove it.”

  His eyes widened and then a wicked smile curved his lips. “My pleasure.”

  The way the man said “pleasure” did really unfortunate things to Char’s body, things that made her re-think her rash decision.

  “Where’s the zipper?”

  “Aww… can’t find it? That happen to you often, Jake? Can’t find the zipper, where does my equipment go…”

  “Oh that, I never have problems with. You should know.”

  Her eyes narrowed into slits as she watched him close the curtain and then do a turning motion with his finger.

  She turned around and faced the mirror. Jake placed his hands on her shoulders then ran them down both of her arms. She would not shiver, she would not react!

  He placed his hands on her hips, then unzipped the dress. Slowly he ran his hands back up the sides of her body, all the way until he hit just below her breasts. Her breath hitched as he winked at her in the mirror, bypassing her breasts and finding the fastener behind her neck.

  Char chewed on her lower lip as she watched him delicately undo the fastener and then held the dress to her body so it wouldn’t fall.

  “You have beautiful hair.” He ran a few pieces through his fingers and sighed, locking eyes with her in the mirror.

  He wasn’t smiling. Was he seriously paying her a compliment? To her face? Or her reflection?

  “I, uhh—”

  “It’s just a compliment, Char. Not a proposal.”

  She blushed profusely. “Thank you.”

  The way he looked at her made her feel naked. And now she remembered why things had gone haywire in the first place. She never knew which Jake she was talking to. The one who had been her friend when she was little, or the millionaire playboy who had no soul.

  Char doubted he even knew which one he was. She just needed to make sure she remembered, lest she end up with a broken heart again.

  “Everyone decent?” Grandma called from the other side of the curtain.

  Jake stepped back and winked. “Unfortunately.”

  Char felt her face heat.

  “Damn,” Grandma called. “You’ve lost your touch, son.”

  “Don’t I know it.” He licked his lips and nodded one last time at Char before stepping on the other side of the curtain.

  What the heck just happened?

  It took Char a good five minutes to get her jeans on. Her stupid hands were shaking so much she couldn’t pull up the zipper. And that was why men like Jake shouldn’t be free of their cages. It was dangerous, oh so dangerous.

  “You ready yet?” Jake called. “Grandma’s pacing.”

  “Coming.” Char bolted out of the dressing room, purse in hand. “Okay, what’s the emergency?”

  Jake sighed and pointed to Grandma, who was at that very moment twirling in the middle o
f the store.

  “I’m confused. Is she high?” Char examined Grandma as she continued to do the two-step and then twirl, only to stop, stomp her foot, and start over again.

  “Wouldn’t put it past her,” Jake whispered.

  “Hush!” Grandma stopped mid-twirl. “I’ve got it!”

  “Funny, I thought she’d lost it,” Char murmured.

  “Both of you!” Grandma pointed at them. “You’ll go.”

  “Go?” Char.

  “Both?” Jake.

  “Ah, it’s settled. After all, I have a manicure I simply cannot miss. Here’s the to-do list. Most of these things need to be finished before we leave at the end of the week. Oh, and don’t be late. Madame despises tardiness.” She straightened her long pink scarf and clapped happily. “I’m so glad we’ve figured everything out! Kacey was in such a panic! You’ve both saved the day!”

  A groan escaped Char’s mouth before she could stop it.

  Jake put his hands out in front of him as if to calm Grandma down, or maybe himself; who knew? “Grandma, we can’t spend every day together figuring out last-minute wedding details.”

  “Why ever not?” Grandma paused, concern etched in her brow.

  “Because… I’m busy.” He coughed.

  “Feeling sorry for yourself isn’t an occupation.”

  “Neither is whoring around, and look where that got him,” Char added.

  “See what I mean?” Jake pointed back at her. “I can’t even get along with her, let alone plan something. Do you want her death on your hands?”

  “You’ll be fine. Besides, Char needs you—after all, she does have a job, and a great one at that. Now, you know how to get a hold of me if you need me.” Grandma jerked her sunglasses out of her giant purse and put them on her face. “Love you.”

  The bell on the door jingled as Grandma swept out of the shop, leaving Jake with a list in his hands and Char wondering if it was at all possible to kill a person by staring daggers into their back.

  Chapter Nine

  “Grandma’s up to something.” Kacey looked at the picture text from Grandma and sighed.

  Travis snorted. “Since when isn’t she up to something? I almost feel sorry for Jake.”

  At Kacey’s’ glare he put up his hands in front of him. “Easy, tiger, I’m just saying, Grandma can be relentless. I mean, she’s staying with him.”

  “She fired him, too.”

  “What?” Travis roared. “From Titus Enterprises? Can she do that?”

  “Apparently.” Kacey shrugged and showed Travis the picture. “She’s also bent on playing matchmaker.”

  Travis grabbed the phone and burst out laughing. “Is that Char?”

  “Yup.”

  “In a wedding dress.”

  “Right.”

  “And Jake behind her… staring?”

  “Lusting,” Kacey corrected. “He’s lusting.”

  “You can’t even see his face.”

  “No.” Kacey snatched back the phone and pointed at Jake. “But his stance is all He-man.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You know.” Kacey nudged him. “He-man.”

  “Are you speaking English?”

  With a dramatic sigh, Kacey put her hands on her hips and showed Travis how Jake was standing. “You see what I mean? Guys only stand like this when they’re presenting, or he-manning. They take up as much space as they can to look bigger and more protective.”

  Someone honked their horn at Kacey. She rolled her eyes and turned to glare at the car full of people. When she turned back around Travis had his hands on his hips, legs wide.

  “Point proven.” Kacey pointed at Travis and laughed.

  “Damn.” Travis rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t prove anything, and let’s be honest, if Jake wanted to date Char he could have dated her years ago. I mean, it’s not like she’s a stranger to our family. She practically grew up with all of us.”

  Men. Kacey threw her head back and laughed. “Right, and you and I grew up together, yet we just reconnected and now we’re getting married. Growing up together doesn’t mean anything.”

  “We gonna run or gossip about my whorish brother?” Travis smacked her butt and jogged past her.

  “Remind me why I thought doing the soldier wedding workout was a good idea?”

  “It was in one of those stupid magazines you’ve been collecting like squirrels collect nuts. I noticed the girl’s six pack, you bruised my arm—thanks for that by the way—and then you said you were going to be hotter for your wedding. Thus the current five-mile run that has me dreaming of a nice hot shower.”

  Kacey fell into her stride next to him. “Whatever, and it’s not my fault you bruise like a peach.”

  “Aw, baby… You know I don’t mind when they’re those kind of bruises.” He bit down on his lip and stopped running, pulling Kacey into his embrace. “I love you.”

  Kacey scowled. “But what are we going to do about Grandma!”

  “Women are weird. I’m talking about biting every square inch of your body and you want to talk about my grandma? Really?”

  “Travis.”

  “Kacey.” He nibbled her lower lip and then kissed her nose. “We’ll beat her at her own game. If she wants to play matchmaker, we’ll just play matchmaker ourselves.”

  “You mean, like, set Jake up ourselves? And see who wins?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I like that idea.” Kacey wrapped her arms around Travis’s neck. “After all, we know what’s best for Jake.”

  “The monastery?”

  Kacey snorted. “Probably. At any rate, we can invite some single girls to the wedding, ones that would really click with him.”

  “A wager.” Travis nodded. “Between us and Grandma. We win, she pays for the honeymoon. She wins…”

  “She can sing at the wedding,” Kacey sighed.

  “No!” Travis touched his forehead to hers. “I’m not that insane. I’d rather buy her a boat or pay for her stripper workouts every week.”

  “It’s what she wants.”

  “She also wants to buy a tiger like Mike Tyson. Just because she wants something doesn’t mean we have to indulge her.”

  “Travis.” Kacey kissed his lips softly. “There’s nothing to worry about; it’s not like she’ll win.”

  Grunting, Travis kissed her head. “Fine, but if Grandma does win and she ends up with a microphone, it’s on you. Now, let’s finish our last mile so I can have my way with you in the shower.”

  “Gotta catch me first!” Kacey yelled as she breezed past him.

  Chapter Ten

  “You’ve got to be shitting me.” Jake stared at the building with a mixture of horror and confusion. “We have to have the wrong address.”

  Char snatched the piece of paper from his hands. “Let me look.”

  “I can read, you know.”

  Rolling her eyes, she scanned the paper. “Unbelievable.”

  “What?” He leaned over her shoulder to look at the address. Her scent pulled at him, making his insides tense.

  “That you can read.”

  “Very funny.”

  “It’s the right address.” Char slapped the paper against his chest and walked up to the dark door. “I guess we just… go in?”

  “Hell, no.” Jake crossed his arms. “Not gonna happen.”

  “The list says that Madame is expecting us at one! We’re going to be late if we don’t go in.”

  Jake licked his lips and looked at the building again. The windows were filled with pictures of women laughing and throwing confetti into the air while men danced with them. It was like a very bad tampon commercial gone wrong.

  “No. And who the hell is Madame anyways?”

  Char rolled her eyes. “It’s her name. Why, you scared you’re gonna grow a pair of boobs? You afraid your balls are gonna disappear?”

  Jake snorted. “Fine, let’s go.” Irritated, he grabbed her arm with his left hand and pushed open the door with hi
s right.

  The room was blanketed in black.

  “See, wrong address.” Jake released Char’s arm and pulled out his cell just as music began to fill the room. Then a few stage lights popped on, causing Jake to go blind momentarily. “What the hell?”

  And then the singing began.

  Char tensed beside him. More lights flickered on, although Jake had no idea where they’d come from; he was still seeing spots from the first ones. He tried to take a step to the side and ran into a table. Placing his hands on the table he looked down.

  Pictures of shirtless Chippendale men greeted him.

  He jerked back and bumped into something hard. He turned around to steady whatever he’d bumped into.

  A naked statue.

  Of a dude.

  Where the hell was he supposed to touch? He reached out to grab the waist of the statue since it had conveniently been set on a table so that he was eye level with the nakedness, and was bumped by Char, who apparently had been fighting her own battle with a swarm of balloons in the shape of, er… parts.

  “Holy crap.” Char grabbed Jake’s hand. “We have to make a run for it.”

  “It’s like hell, only worse.” Jake agreed grabbing her arm.

  “Welcome, welcome!” Came a voice over a loudspeaker.

  “Holy shit, we’re officially in the Hunger Games.” Jake grabbed Char and put her behind him. “Just let me die first. Please God, let me die first.”

  “I’ve been expecting you!” the female voice happily announced.

  “Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better,” Char whispered from behind Jake. “Oh, and by the way, it’s only romantic to sacrifice yourself for me if death isn’t the better option, twinkle toes!”

  Jake paused. “You swore you’d take that to your grave!”

  “Oops?” Char shrugged. “How many years were you in ballet? One, two?”

  “Oops, my ass!” Why the hell would she bring up that old nickname? Now of all times? Had she any idea how emasculating it was?

  “Just stay still—”

  “I can both hear and see you,” the voice said. “And I don’t have all day. Now, let me examine you.”

  “We’ve officially skipped Hunger Games and jumped into Saw.” Jake shook his head and yelled at the voice. “Can you at least turn out the lights? We can’t see you.”