“Great.” He smiled and helped her to her feet, then put his hand on the small of her back as he walked her down the hall.
A few more snickers were heard as they passed offices.
And then a cat call.
The touch of Jake’s hand was burning itself into her back. It wasn’t lost on her that when she walked by Mark’s office she could see he had a satisfied gleam in his eyes. Bastard. They were almost home free.
Char hit the down button on the elevator and prayed it would go faster. You could seriously hear a pin drop, the room was eerily quiet of it’s usual buzz and laughter.
“Jake? Jake Titus?” A woman cleared her throat.
Both Char and Jake turned.
Michelle Klike was the reporter that had replaced Char on the five o’clock news. She had bright blond hair and was Barbie-doll small; her nickname was Legs.
“Yeah?” Jake licked his lips and flashed that fake smile again.
“Michelle Klike. I’m sure you’ve seen me on the news.” She tossed her platinum hair and winked. “We should do lunch sometime. I’d love to get to know you better.”
Right. Char snorted softly. Michelle sent her a glare and then turned her attention back to Jake.
“I, uh…” Jake shook his head and wrapped his arm around Char. “I’m busy.”
Michelle’s smile turned feral as she eyed Char, and then Jake and then Char again, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Well,” she pulled out a card, “you just let me know when you’re done with Char and I’ll set up a date.”
Done? Char’s eyebrows shot upward, most likely getting lost in her hairline as she took a step toward Michelle.
Jake’s muscles flexed as he gripped Char with his arm and took the card with his other hand. “Thanks, but I’ve already got a reporter I talk to.”
“For now.” Michelle flashed that damn smile again and strutted off.
The elevator doors opened, thank God.
Jake pushed the button for the doors to close at least ten times before they actually did, and then cheesy music blanketed their awkward silence.
“Sorry,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “It’s not normally that bad. I mean—”
“Jake,” Char held up her hand. “You don’t have to explain. I know who you are and what you are, okay? Let’s just leave it at that. And who knows? At least now you won’t have to go to the club for your next booty call, right?”
Nostrils flaring, his eyes went cold for a brief moment before he looked away and shook his head. When the elevator doors finally re-opened, he let Char step in front of him and again placed his hand on the small of her back. What was he doing? She’d just pushed him away again and he was still, what? Being nice?
She eyed him suspiciously. “What’s your game here?”
He shrugged as they made their way through the parking garage.“I thought we’d eat before we finish off the whole wedding gift and cake topper thing,” Jake said as he unlocked a white BMW. Seriously, how many cars did the guy have?
“Sure.” Char got into the car and was reminded yet again how many straws she was attempting to grasp by even thinking she could be with a guy like Jake. He was playing with her: that was his angle. The minute she was gone he’d call Legs. “Where to first?”
“Well.” He put the car in drive. Merciful God above, what was he wearing? What type of cologne was that? She leaned forward and felt her face flush when she actually shivered at his scent.
“What are you doing?” Jake asked. The car was back in park. His eyes were twinkling with amusement.
“Er.” Char jerked away. “Just helping you see.”
“See?”
“The traffic.” She pointed behind them to nonexistent cars going by them in the parking garage.
“I think I’ll be okay on my own.” He winked and continued backing out while Char prayed for the car to swallow her whole.
“So this restaurant.” Changing the subject, she dug into her purse for some lip gloss. “It’s by the cake place?”
“Yup.”
“Cool.”
Holy crap. Was it going to be this awkward the entire time? “Thanks, for the flowers. They were really pretty.” There, she made her peace.
“They were yellow.” Jake pointed out as he maneuvered the car onto third street.
“Right,” Char said slowly.
“That means forgiveness.”
“Okay.”
“Just thought you should know.” He shrugged.
“Jake, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
He didn’t say anything. Just kept driving while Char managed not to look like a dog in heat as his smell continued to radiate off of him.
Jake pulled the car into a parking spot by a small restaurant and ran around it to help Char out. “I know it looks like a hole in the wall but it’s really good. I promise.”
The building was old and brick, like most buildings in downtown Seattle. The door to the restaurant was red, and spray-painted beside it was the word “Fork”. Hmm. She shrugged and followed him inside.
People were scattered about, sitting at mismatched tables with checkered tablecloths topped with giant glasses of wine. Hmm, maybe she would like this place after all. Jake grabbed her hand, took her to the corner table, and pulled out her chair.
“You already ordered?” She pointed to the full wine glasses on the table.
“Nope.” He grinned. “That’s how the tables are. The wine is all inclusive, as much as you want, at all times. The first glass is always the house wine and then they bring you whatever your preference.”
“Holy crap.” Char looked lustfully at the glass of wine. “You’ve brought me to heaven.”
His smile was so large that Char gasped before looking down at the menu on the table. It was handwritten on a small chalkboard that sat like a placemat by her silverware.
“You like it?” he asked.
“I love it.” Char met his gaze and smiled.
Chapter Twenty-four
It had been an accident. He’d only meant to order one damn flower. But then he thought of Char’s dejected face, and how sad she’d looked when she got out of the car. So he ordered a few more. It was seriously like he had no control over his mouth as he talked to the florist.
When the florist asked why he was sending flowers, well. That’s when things spiraled out of control. Because he couldn’t help that his imagination began conjuring up images of what Char’s face would look like when she went to work and saw her desk littered with flowers. He was convinced nobody had ever taken the time to do something nice for her. He’d bet his life on it.
So fine. It had been excessive.
Perhaps too excessive.
But it was a peace offering. Whoever said peace offerings couldn’t be excessive? He’d wanted her to feel good.
Mission accomplished.
Until he saw her face again.
He really needed to stop seeing her in person. It was making him feel things he didn’t want to feel, like vulnerable and stupid.
And now she was looking at him like that again. The same look girls got on their faces when they were falling. Normally he hated it. But now? He craved it. Slowly, she was ruining him. He wasn’t sure if he should run the other way or just kiss her and get it over with. But that same irritating fear was still blocking all logical thought, making him re-think every damn choice.
He knew he was an ass and didn’t deserve her. He also knew he would most likely mess up and she’d hate him.
And then there was also his past with women. Add that on top of all the shameful things he’d done to Kacey and he wasn’t sure he could trust himself, let alone allow someone else to put their trust in him.
With a sigh he looked back down at the menu and tried to find something to order. Everything looked fuzzy; nothing sounded good, nothing but her.
And sadly, Char wasn’t on the menu. Maybe if he could find some chalk he’d put her on there and ask nicely.
Then h
e’d nicely push everything off the table.
And nicely strip her of her clothes.
Then nicely lay claim to her—
“Jake?” Char interrupted. “You’re all flushed. Are you okay?”
Hell no. He was not okay.
He gripped the sides of his chair and gave her a curt nod. “I was just thinking.”
“Care to clue me in?” Char laughed. “Your thoughts seem exciting.”
Oh, if she only knew.
“Ready to order?” A waiter popped out of nowhere.
Damn. If Jake would have actually been looking at the menu he could’ve fired something off, but his mind had gone completely blank, and now he was staring at Char’s mouth, like a starving man. Perfect. He was turning into a lunatic. Grandma would be pleased with herself.
“I’ll have the chef’s salad with a side of fries.”
Jake laughed and pointed at Char. “Same for me.”
She took a sip of wine and closed her eyes.
Mouth completely dry, Jake watched as she savored the red wine and finally swallowed.
He’d be lucky to get out of the restaurant without dying from arousal. He cleared his throat and managed to look away. “So, fries and salad, huh?”
“Best of both worlds.” Char answered.
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that the glass of temptation, aka the wine, was back on the table. He exhaled and managed to gain a bit more control over himself as their eyes met again.
“So we eat.” Char chewed her lower lip. “Then we get the cake topper, and only one more task?”
“Yup.”
“Should be easy.”
“We’ll be done in no time.” Jake winked.
Chapter Twenty-five
“We really need to stop saying things like that.” Char sighed as they watched the elderly woman type into the computer using only her pointer fingers.
“Now.” Blanche, the owner of the cake shop, stopped typing. “What was the last name?”
“Titus,” Jake said slowly.
“Can you spell that, please?” The lady smiled, revealing a large set of teeth that looked like the perfect dentures.
“Uh, sure. T, I, T, U, S.”
“T.” She typed and looked up.
Char managed not to laugh but only barely. She had to look away.
“I.” Jake paused.
Sure enough Blanche looked up again. Holy crap, the woman would try the patience of a saint!
“T,” he continued.
“Tit?” Blanche coughed. “What kind of last name is that?”
“No, no, no.” Jake leaned over the counter. “There’s two more letters.”
“Oh!” Blanche touched her hands to her cheeks and laughed. “Dearie, I’m so sorry, this old brain doesn’t work as well as it used to!”
“Does it work at all?” Char mumbled under her breath. Jake elbowed her as he continued spelling.
“U.”
Blanche poked the U button and looked up.
Seriously. They could have baked bread in the time it took that woman to type one name.
“S.”
Both she and Jake exhaled as Blanche finally typed in the last letter and pressed enter on the computer.
They only sound in the tiny shop was the hum of the computer and the light violin music playing in the background. There were cupcakes layered in a glass box in front of the register and a few cake toppers lying around. All in all it was a really small shop.
“Oh no.” Blanche sighed.
Jake glanced at Char, and a look of complete irritation flashed across his perfect features before he said in a strained voice, “Blanche, is something wrong?”
“It’s the topper.”
“Yes?”
“The one we ordered and the one that came in are different. I tried calling the number they gave me but they never returned the call.”
“What number did you have?” Jake asked.
Blanche’s slow hands made their way across the computer. Two minutes later she was reading off a number.
“Grandma.” Char and Jake both said her name as if it was an expletive.
“Why don’t I show it to you and you can decide?” Blanche put her hand in the air. “I’ll go get it. I just need to find it.”
When she disappeared to the back, Char leaned against the counter and sighed. “By the time she gets back I’ll be too old to have children.”
“At least you won’t have all those cats.” Jake winked.
“Wow, helpful, Mr. Sensitive. Thanks.”
He shrugged and looked around the shop. “This doesn’t seem like the type of place Kacey would choose for a cake topper.”
“Tell me about it,” Char grumbled. “The dress I had to try on was awful. I swear I thought Grandma took me to the wrong shop.”
They both gasped and looked at each another.
“Do you think…?” Jake asked.
“What?” Char put her hands on her hips. “That this is some sort of sick joke and Grandma’s doing it on purpose to torture us?”
“No.” Jake shook his head. “You think?”
Char squinted and looked at the door. It was a reputable shop, and the lady did seem to have nice designs. “I don’t think she would stoop so low.”
“She faked her own death to get Kacey and Travis together. Believe me, this is exactly the type of thing she’d do.”
“Here it is!” Blanche showed up with a cake topper that looked perfectly normal. It was a couple who looked like Kacey and Travis, dancing in each other’s arms.
“Not bad.” Jake looked at Blanche. “What’s wrong with it?”
Blanche held up her hand and picked up the stand from the box then set the glass figurine down inside it.
The stand said, “Tits Forever.”
“Holy hell.” Jake swore under his breath. “We can’t take that to the wedding!”
Char covered her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing, then cleared her throat. “Is um, is there any way we can do it without the stand?”
Blanche looked horrified that she would even suggest it. “Without the stand?”
Char nodded.
“Without the stand?” Blanche’s eyes flared.
“Just back up slowly,” Jake whispered, grabbing Char’s hand and shielding her with his body.
“It needs the stand!” Blanche shouted. “Every figurine has a specifically made stand to sit on the cake; otherwise it sinks through. Do you want to ruin this wedding? What type of a bride are you?”
“Oh.” Char peaked around Jake’s body. “I’m not the bride.”
Blanche’s eyes narrowed. “But you’re picking up your cake topper.”
“Maid of honor.” Char raised her hand.
Blanche looked to Jake.
“I, uh,” he stuttered. “I’m the brother. Best man.”
“And you let this happen? You let them order a cake topping with the wrong spelling?” Blanche walked slowly around the counter and faced them. “What type of friends are you?”
“Bad ones,” Jake agreed. “Terrible ones.”
Blanche shook her head. “When’s the wedding?”
“Next week,” Char piped up.
“Well then, good luck telling them you won’t have a cake topper.”
“We’ll take it!” Char shouted from behind Jake.
He swung around. “It says Tits forever. No way in hell is that going on the wedding cake.”
“They need a topper!” Char argued. “You’re a guy. Can’t you just build something for the cake, so we can still use the topper they ordered? It’s really pretty. I mean when you take the ‘Tits’ out.”
Jake cracked a smile.
Char looked away again.
“Damn it.” He pulled out his credit card. “We’ll take it. Stand and all.”
“Lovely.” Blanche smiled. “I’m sure the bride and groom will love it. And if you ever need another cake topper, please be sure to keep Tops R Us in mind.”
“Over my dead body,” Jake mumbled and handed the receipt to Char while he grabbed the box and made his way out the door.
Char followed mindlessly.
They got into the car.
And laughed.
“We really shouldn’t be in charge of things,” Char finally said when she stopped laughing.
“What the hell are we going to do? If that’s the one Kacey ordered she’s going to flip if it’s wrong.”
Char shrugged. “Well, we’ll figure something out. Now let’s finish everything up. We have to leave tomorrow night.”
“Right.”
“Oh, and here.” She handed him the receipt and buckled her seatbelt.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jake swore fluently and crumpled the receipt in his hand before throwing it against the floor.
“Something wrong?”
“Yeah, that cake topper cost two grand.”
“What?” Char shrieked.
Jake smirked. “Tits sure are expensive these days.”
Char covered her face with her hands and laughed. She froze, however, when she felt Jake reach around and touch the back of her seat to back up. His hand grazed her neck. An involuntary shiver ran through her body.
“Um.” She leaned forward and grabbed the list. “Okay, now we just have to pick up Grandma’s gift.”
“Where to?”
Char squinted. “That’s weird.”
“What?”
“It’s just an address?”
Jake shrugged. “What is it? I’ll put it in the navigation.”
Char read off the address. Luckily, wherever they were going was only a few blocks away from downtown, closer to the college as well as to Queen Anne Hill.
After they turned down the right street Jake added, “I wouldn’t put it past Grandma to get them something inappropriate; just a fair warning.”
“Please.” Char rolled her eyes. “How bad could it be?”
Chapter Twenty-six
Jake realized that it could be that bad and worse when they pulled up to a drugstore. “I don’t get it. This is the address she gave us?”
He looked at the paper again and then at his watch. It was getting late and as much as he didn’t mind being with Char, there was no chance in hell was he going to actually spend late into the evening with her, not with the way his body was acting. He’d ruin everything. Wow, so now he was turning into a runner. Never thought he’d see that day.
The Wager Page 11
