The Wager tb-2 Page 5

  “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.”

  “That, my dear,” the voice laughed, “is the point, is it not?”

  “Er, not?” Char gave a hollow laugh.

  “I do not have all day!” the voice yelled. “Now, separate. I need to see what I have to work with.”

  Char slowly stepped out from behind Jake and stood, head held high. Jake had to admire that. Any other girl would have run out of the room. Shit, he was a guy and he was going to have nightmares.

  “Not bad,” the voice said coolly. “Not bad at all.”

  “Thanks.” Char grinned.

  Jake rolled his eyes. “She’s only complimenting you so you’re all fat and happy before she kills you.”

  “Sharp-tongued, that one,” the voice announced. “But you’ll do. Oh Jake, you’ll do just fine. Tell me, how comfortable are you with the stage?”

  “Not comfortable.” Jake coughed. “Not at all, you see. I have this bad knee and—”

  “His knee’s fine!” Char interjected with a wink.

  He lunged for her just as the lights flickered off and the room returned to a normal state.

  In the normal light, it wasn’t so daunting. It looked like a dance studio mixed with a really weird party shop.

  “Hello!” A woman appeared from a balcony above them. “Sorry to put you on the spot like that, but your dear old grandma said you kids needed a good laugh.”

  “Ha ha.” Jake was going to strangle his grandmother.

  “Anyway, I assume you’ve been given instructions about the dance you’ll be performing?”

  “Dance?” Jake asked.

  “Performing?” Char echoed.

  “But of course! I am Madame, the best dance instructor in the city.”

  Yeah, Jake highly doubted that. The woman was at least his grandmother’s age and was at that point walking so slowly down the stairs that he was pretty sure she was actually aging before his eyes.

  “Um, I think perhaps my grandmother was confused.” Jake’s eyes were glued to the woman’s shaky legs as she slowly descended. Good Lord, her heels were at least six inches and her skirt… It covered nothing. To be fair, the woman’s legs were quite fit. He tilted his head to gain a better view.

  “I think it’s Jake who’s confused.” Char nudged him. “Either that or he’s under a spell in the form of a pair of long legs.”

  Madame grinned as she settled on the last stair. “Happens all the time. What can I say? I’m a treat for the eyes.” She thrust her chest out and winked at Jake.

  “I want to go home,” Jake whispered as he reached for Char’s hand.

  Char jerked her hand away and approached Madame. “Like Jake said, I think Grandma was confused. You see, we have a list of things we have to get done before the wedding. This was the next appointment. So do we need to pick something up or—”

  “Silence!” Madame shouted. “I will not have your back talk. Grandma said you will perform the dance, so dance!”

  “Dance?” Jake croaked.

  “Dance!” Madame twirled in front of them and snapped her fingers above her head. “I shall teach you the dance of love. You’ll perform it at the wedding ceremony. Now, this specific dance is that of a mating ritual.”

  “Aw, shit.” Jake took a few deep breaths. “There will be no mating on the dance floor.”

  Madame laughed. “But of course not! You’ll be dancing! It is a ritual, not the act, you naughty boy.” With a wink she lifted her hand and tilted Jake’s chin toward her. “My, but you’re pretty.”

  Jake was going to kill his grandmother. But he was too traumatized, too shocked to do anything except stare back into the Cougar’s eyes and pray she didn’t tie him up somewhere and put him in a cage.

  Madame growled and released his chin. “Now, places in the middle of the floor. Remember, this dance is what brings good luck to the marriage. Mess it up and the future of your brother’s happiness weighs on you.”

  “No pressure,” Char interjected.

  Madame pressed a button and suddenly the lights lowered again. Soft music resembling a type of tango began to play in the background.

  “Middle of the floor,” Madame instructed.

  Jake went to the middle of the floor and held out his hand to Char. “Come on, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can leave and get alcohol poisoning.”

  Char’s eyes darted between his hand and his face before she begrudgingly took his hand and stepped into the frame of his body. “Fine, but keep your wandering hands to yourself.”

  “Please,” Jake snorted. “Like your body is any sort of temptation for a man of my tastes.”

  Char smiled sweetly. “I forgot—you like fake… my mistake.”

  “I—”

  “Now!” Madame clapped. “close your eyes. I shall walk you through the dance, but you must trust me, you must trust one another.”

  * * *

  Char’s hands were perspiring. That one word, trust. It immediately thrust her back into junior high. When she and Jake had been doing the trust fall—when he promised he’d catch her—and he’d failed.

  When she was called fat.

  And he refused to defend her.

  Char’s mom had always told her that she’d laugh about it someday, that the things that happen to you in junior high don’t hold any power over your life in adulthood. But she was wrong… When you’re hurt at such a vulnerable age it’s impossible to forget the hurt. Especially if that one hurt launched you into a two-year issue with bulimia and diet pills.

  So, trust? No, she didn’t trust Jake Titus, because the last two times she had. He’d walked away from her.

  “Trust,” Madame repeated. “And follow my hands.” Char felt a hand on her shoulder and then she was pushed forward into Jake’s arms. His breath hitched as her cheek came into contact with his firm chest.

  “Now, Jake, step back,” Madame instructed. “And do the—Oh my, you do know how to dance, don’t you?”

  Char opened her eyes just as Jake pushed her away and twirled her, then pulled her back into his frame, tipping her over his leg in a dip.

  “Trust me.” He whispered as he turned her in his arms, causing her entire backside to be firmly pressed against his front.

  He felt too good.

  With another twirl she was facing him.

  “Now,” Madame called. “There are a series of seven dips, be sure to twirl her out, dip on one side and—oh dear, heavens, child. Have you done the mating dance before?”

  Jake blushed.

  Char opened her mouth to ask the same thing, but he dipped her across his leg and then twirled her out, causing her to nearly stumble until with a tug, Jake had her firmly in his arms again; only this time her feet dangled above the gro
und.

  Slowly, he released her as she slid down his body, feeling every damn muscle of his six-pack. She only knew it was there because she counted muscles as her body descended.

  The music stopped.

  Char looked into Jake’s eyes.

  His lips parted as he leaned forward.

  “Marvelous!” Madame clapped.

  Char jumped back and wiped her hands on her jeans.

  “You’ve done this before, haven’t you, darling?” Madame winked at Jake and patted him on the butt, then turned to Char. “As long as you let him lead, for the day of the wedding you will be perfectly fine.”

  Char nodded. “Are we done then?”

  “Dancing is part of life. One is never done dancing.”

  “Or mating,” Jake said helpfully.

  Madame blushed and began fanning her face. “Would you care for some refreshments?”

  Char might as well have been invisible.

  Jake reached for Char’s arm and pulled her into his body. “Um, no thank you. I’d best get my girlfriend home.”

  Madame’s lips formed a pout. “Girlfriend?”

  Jake’s grip tightened on Char’s waist.

  “Yeah, Jake, girlfriend? I mean…” Char twisted to face him. “I didn’t know we were going to make it official and everything.”

  His nostrils flared as his eyes darted between Madame and her. “We’ll just seal it with a kiss, shall we?”

  Before Char could protest his lips were on hers.

  Holy crap.

  He tasted like pure virile man. He parted her lips with his tongue and dove into the depths of her mouth. His lips were like velvet, perfectly formed against hers, which were not fighting but—partaking.

  With a moan Char wrapped her arms around his neck—completely forgetting herself—and kissed him back. He made a sound low in his throat as his grip on her body tightened.

  “This… is not a brothel,” Madame interrupted frostily.

  “Could have fooled me,” Jake said against Char’s lips.

  With a snort of laughter Char pulled away. “Thank you, Madame, for everything. But as you’ve just seen, my boyfriend and I need to go celebrate!”

  “Well then, off you go.” Madame’s voice was high-pitched but her face was pinched at the mouth, as if she had just sucked on something really sour.

  They left the store and made a run for it to Jake’s BMW. The minute Char slammed the door shut, they both burst into fits of laughter.

  Jake started the car. “And I thought Grandma was crazy.”

  “Right?” Char’s voice sounded a bit breathless. Great; now she couldn’t talk like a normal human around Jake. It was a kiss: one damn kiss to fend off the Cougar, nothing more.

  “Thanks for that…” The car pulled to a stop at the light. “For helping me out. Had I been there alone—I’m pretty sure you would have seen me on the evening news.”

  “Candy.” Char nodded.

  “Huh?” The light turned green.

  “That’s how she would have lured you into her bedroom. She would’ve made a candy trail to her bedroom. It’s how all the Cougars do it. Then, once you were there, she would have gotten you drunk, you would have accepted—anything to ruin memories of the night—and there you have it. Love slave. Dateline. Woman Scorned.”

  Jake shook his head and snorted. “The way your mind works frightens me.”

  “Hey.” Char lifted her hands in the air. “I’m just saying.”

  Jake shuddered and pulled onto the freeway toward downtown. “So, drinks? I did promise and I’m pretty sure I owe you.”

  After that kiss? No, it was actually she who owed him. The all-too-familiar pang of rejection washed over Char. Sure, she could go have drinks with him and then fall for all the things that most normal breathing girls fell for. He’d get just tipsy enough to ask her to come home with him. They’d share a cab, she’d say just one drink, they’d end up in his bedroom.

  And she’d wake up to find a thank-you note and a twenty-dollar bill for her cab fare home on her pillow.

  No thanks.

  “Actually…” Char looked at her watch. “I can still put in a full afternoon at the office. Can you drop me off at the KOMO station?”

  Jake nervously scratched his head and shrugged. “Sure, I mean if that’s what you want. I for one think margaritas are better than working any day.”

  “Yeah.” Char put on her sunglasses. “Then again you’re kind of unemployed right now so…”

  “Thanks for the reminder,” he grumbled, taking the downtown exit. “I’ll, uh, I’ll just look at what else Grandma has on her list and give you a call.”

  “You’ll need my number.”

  “I’ll get it from Grandma.” He shrugged.

  Damn the man. He couldn’t even ask her for her number? Really? “Well.” Char opened the door once he’d stopped the car. “Wouldn’t want you to have to program me into your cell and risk taking up too much space from your booty calls.”

  “Char, wait—”

  She slammed the door before he could finish what he was going to say and walked purposefully into the office building.

  Chapter Eleven

  What the hell had just happened? One minute they were joking and laughing and the next Char was talking about booty calls and slamming the door in his face? What had he said? She’d seemed in a hurry so he hadn’t wanted to irritate her further by making her wait for him to get her number.

  In his mind he was being a gentleman, or at least trying.

  But according to Char he was being a jackass?

  Women. Would he never understand them?

  As he pulled out of the parking lot, contemplating all the reasons that kissing Char again would be a bad idea, his phone rang.

  “What?” His voice was hoarse.

  “Whoa, there… bad day?” Travis chuckled.

  “I had dance class. You tell me.”

  “I’m sorry, did you say you had dance class?”

  “I’m not repeating it,” Jake said dryly. “Oh and by the way, Grandma may not make it to the wedding.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I’m killing her. Tonight. Either that or putting some sleeping pills in her Fiberease.”

  “Oh. Well, just don’t use Benadryl. She’s built up a tolerance.”

  “Yeah, well, ever since Kacey, I think we can all claim a tolerance. I swear last time I had allergies I went through an entire box.”

  “Glad you’re still breathing.” Travis chuckled.

  “Don’t be an ass. What do you want?”

  Travis laughed again. “First tell me about the dance.”

  “Mating dance,” Jake corrected as he took the exit to the tux shop. “It went well. Char saved my ass. The Madame, and yes that was her name, wanted a new plaything.”

  “Come again?”

  “Chew toy, plaything, man toy to dress up and play with. Yeah, you probably would have never seen me again.”

  “Scary.”

  Jake shook his head. “You have no idea. Anyway, I just dropped Char off at work and now I’m going to go get my tux fitted.”

  “Okay.”

  The phone went silent. “Trav, you still there?”

  “Yeah.” He was quiet again. “I have to ask you something.”

  “No, I won’t give you a kidney—take one of Grandma’s.”

  “She only has one kidney.”

  “My point exactly.”

  Travis sighed. “It’s not that, it’s…”

  “Okay, now you’re scaring me.”

  “So, you know how Dad’s going to be walking Kacey down the aisle?”

  Jake pulled into the parking lot and sighed. “Yes.”

  “She, um…” Travis cursed. “She wanted to know if it would be okay if maybe… you walked with them.”

  “Me?” Jake yelled. “Why in the hell would she want me on the other side of her? Is this a joke? It’s not funny—”

  “Stop yelling.” Travis swore. �
��See? I knew you’d freak out. It’s just that… Kacey and you were best friends for so long and even though you guys had those rough couple of years, you were still a huge part of her life, and she wants to honor you because of it.”

  Well, shit.

  Jake never cried.

  Ever.

  The last time he’d cried was when Kacey’s parents died, and even then he’d locked himself in his dorm and gotten trashed so he wouldn’t remember the fact that he’d shed actual tears.

  But now… now he felt a hell of a lot like sobbing his damn eyes out. Because it shouldn’t be him walking Kacey down the aisle, or his father—but hers. Part of him, a small part, felt like it was his fault. That if he could just go back in time and fix a few things, that everyone would be alive and happy.

  “Jake, you still there?”

  “Yeah,” he croaked. “Can I… um, can I think about it?”

  “Sure.”

  “Look.” Jake hit the steering wheel with his hand. “I gotta run. Say hi to Kace for me.”

  “Okay. Later, man.”

  Jake turned off the car and hit the steering wheel.

  Once wasn’t enough. He hit it again and again until finally his hand was so damn numb he was sure he’d have to ice it later.

  One of these days he would tell her everything. He’d explain to her that her father… had saved his life.

  A bitter taste filled his mouth as he thought about the past—about his past in general. Would Bill have been proud of Jake and his choices? Or would he have done what he did eight years ago… take him out back and make him chop wood and dig holes until his fingers bled—until Jake realized the giant error in judgment he’d made?

  With a curse, Jake got out of the car and walked toward the tux shop. He’d think about it—he’d think about walking Kacey down the aisle—even if it meant he wasn’t going to be the man at the end of it. He’d never been deserving of that kind of love and he probably never would be.

  Chapter Twelve

  Beth snapped her fingers in front of Char’s face. “Um, did you hear anything I just said?”