Home > The Wager (The Bet, #2)(11)

The Wager (The Bet, #2)(11)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“Huh?”

“Let me give my people a call.”

“Your ‘people’?” Char repeated. “I think being jobless has already addled that sexy brain of yours.” With a gasp she covered her mouth. “It was the wine! Crap!”

“You think I’m sexy?” He baited her with a wink; old habits die hard. And he hadn’t participated in said habits for over a week now. The fact that she said he was sexy both terrified and excited him. Blood pumped to all the wrong places. Easy, his brain told him, it would be so easy just to bag her and then you could forget about caring. Forget about trying. The truth? He was scared shitless that the minute he took a chance on someone actually worth taking a chance on, they’d laugh in his face. He wasn’t good enough for Kacey; why the hell would he be good enough for Char?

“No.” She turned away and shook her head as if trying to understand where saying “sexy” had come from.

“It’s okay.” Jake came up behind her. “Lots of women do.”

“I needed to hear you say that.”

“Why?” He tensed as she turned around and ran her fingers up and down his chest.

“It helps me remember what a selfish ass you are.”

“You may change your tune after this afternoon.”

“I have my doubts.”

Jake leaned in until their lips were a breath apart. “I live to prove you wrong.”

Char sighed. “Fine, make the call. I’m worthless at work anyways.”

Grinning, Jake pulled out his phone and dialed Grandma’s number. She answered on the second ring. “This better be good, Jake. I’m winning.”

“I need you to find someone.”

Grandma was silent.

Jake groaned. “It’s for Char.”

“Text me specifics.” Grandma said in a low voice, “I’ll see what I can do.”

The phone clicked off and Jake shoved it into his back pocket. Char was glaring at him through long lashes. “That’s your people?”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and grabbed the food with his other hand. “Now, run home, change into something sexy, grab an overnight bag and meet me back here in an hour. We have some celebrating to do.”

Char’s shoulders slumped beneath Jake’s arm. “You don’t have to do this. Seriously, I’m fine now. See? All better.” She pointed at her face and managed a pathetic smile.

He didn’t have the heart to make her feel worse by telling her how sad she looked, so he went another route. The one that made him look like an ass. At least he knew how to default into that guy. The type of male who knew exactly what to say to push a woman’s buttons. Only this time, it was to save her from herself, not to selfishly convince her to be with him. Odd, how past weaknesses could turn into strengths. He gave her a crooked grin and eyed her up and down, then reached for her face and tilted it as if examining it for age lines. “Fine. Have it your way, but if I was turning another year older—you know, approaching thirty as fast as you were—I’d want to be with someone who knew how to have a good time. Besides, I’ll buy you dinner.”

Her eyes narrowed, “But you’re jobless.”

“And as you pointed out… still a millionaire.” Jake set the wine bottle down on the table and grabbed Char’s hand and kissed it. “Let me make up for it. Please.” The last time he’d said please and meant it had been a year ago when he’d begged Kacey to go with him to see his parents. Great; so basically the last time he’d said please and actually meant it for non-selfish reasons he’d been eight and wanted a popsicle for his invisible friend.

Her eyes darted back and forth between the door and the floor. “Fine, but just… don’t be too nice. I may mistake it for pity and get mad at you all over again.”

“Deal.” He nodded toward the door. “Now drive your sexy ass home and put on something…” He stepped back and looked her up and down. “hot. Put on something hot.”

“This isn’t hot?” She twirled in front of him, her good humor seeming to return. He chuckled as she twirled like a little kid. Damn, she really was beautiful. He cleared his throat and looked away.

“You’d look beautiful in anything, but you need to be wearing a birthday outfit.”

Char’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

Jake nodded as he watched the sway of her h*ps as she walked off. Once she reached the door, Char turned. “Jake…”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, well, I still don’t like you.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I don’t like you either.”

The door clicked shut and Jake had to take a seat to gather his thoughts. The problem was, they were all over the place. He was growing a bit too attached to Char’s smiles.

And it killed him inside to know that she felt that alone. What kind of person did that make him? That he would sit there and complain about his lot in life when she barely had an oven that worked and a family that could care less that it was her birthday?

If anything, his family cared too much.

And he’d never appreciated it until this moment.

With a shaky hand, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Travis’s number.

“Hello?” Travis answered gruffly.

“I’ll do it.”

“Huh?” Travis coughed. “Did you mean to call me?”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Stop being difficult. I said I’ll do it, and I’ll stand by that.”

The phone went silent.

“You still there?” Jake asked.

“Yeah.” Travis laughed. “I was just checking the time to see if it was happy hour or something. You drunk?”

“I’m not drunk!” Jake yelled, getting more irritated by the minute. “I just wanted you to know I thought about it and I want to do it. I want to walk Kacey down the aisle with Dad.” He hadn’t meant for his voice to crack at the end. Hell, how many times would his past haunt him? He envisioned Bill’s smile, the way he’d looked at Kacey, and his gut clenched again. It was the least he could do for family—for hers and for his.

“Thank you.” Travis’s voice was hoarse. “It’s… it will just mean a lot.”

Needing to lighten the subject, Jake laughed. “Yeah, well, consider my good deed done for the year.”

“Done.” Travis sighed. “Everything else good?”

“Yeah.” Jake looked around the empty house and for the first time in his life felt guilty about what he had. Guilty that he had taken it for granted. “It will be.”

“You okay?”

“Great.” Jake cleared his throat. “Listen, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

Chapter Fourteen

Char took more than an hour to get ready. Nothing looked good, and she at least wanted to look good if she was going to be seen with a celebrity. What was she supposed to wear, anyway? The way Jake had been looking at her made her shiver. Well, everything was confusing the crap out of her, and making her suddenly thankful that she took an hour rather than her usual twenty minutes. She had to keep reminding herself that he probably just felt sorry for her. He wasn’t really that altruistic. He was Jake Titus, for crying out loud. When he passed mirrors they got jealous if he didn’t look at least once.

She drove her beat up Ford Escape down the driveway to his house, alternating between full-out panic, wanting to turn around, then determination. It was her birthday. She should have fun. She deserved that much and right now the only future she had was a four-book series on her Kindle and a bottle of wine.

If she turned around she’d just fall asleep to Jimmy Fallon and Justin Timberlake doing their seventh history of rap, and then awaken to Carson Daly’s two o’clock in the morning ramblings.

Depressing. To say the least.

Jake was already waiting for her when she pulled the car to a stop in front of the house.

Her jaw nearly dropped to the ground. What the—she’d only seen a car like that on TV and even then she wasn’t sure they were actually real.

One thing was for certain: she was clearly in over her head. Suddenly it felt wrong to have her old Ford parked next to his car.

She grabbed her purse and stepped out of the SUV.

Jake had on fitted jeans, aviator sunglasses, and a pale blue shirt with a few buttons opened at the top. He completed the effect with a fitted camel-colored leather jacket and well, to be honest, he was almost too much to stare at. But it wasn’t as if she could look at the car. It was practically blinding her. It was… it was incredible. No words would come.

“You like the car?” He asked, throwing the keys in her direction. She nearly stumbled as she caught them out of the air.

“Is it real?”

Jake laughed. “Is what real? The car?”

Char could only nod.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you start it and find out?”

Eager to get inside the alien-looking thing, she quickly pulled open the driver’s door and sat down in the plush leather seat. It fit her like a glove. It was as if the car was molding around her body, fitting her like a dress. “What is this?”

“A Bugatti Veyron.”

“It’s—” Char ran her hands across the steering wheel and looked at Jake, who was now sitting in the passenger seat. “It’s beautiful. Can cars be beautiful?”

Laughing, Jake reached across and caressed the seat next to Char’s leg. “You feel this?”

She’d have to be dead not to feel the heat from his fingertips as they caressed the leather right next to her thigh.

“It’s hand-stitched. Amazing, isn’t it? That a car could feel sexy. But.” His hand moved to her leg. “I wanted you to feel sexy on your birthday. You look beautiful, by the way. I love red.”

She’d chosen a tight-fitting red halter-top dress and gold heels. That was after she’d made a hurricane out of her bedroom.

“You ready to go?” Jake pulled back. “You can drive if you want.”

Char shook her head and edged out of the driver’s seat. “No way. It’s too expensive for me to drive. I’d be going ten down the freeway for fear someone would hit us.”

Jake walked around the car and helped her get the rest of the way out of the low seat, but she ended up stumbling into his arms looking all kinds of clumsy. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His eyes focused on her lips for a brief second before he stepped back. “First rule of birthdays… you never have to be sorry. Now, get in the car. We have some parents to find.”

“Jake, I doubt you’ll ever find them—”

“Already did, or should I say Grandma did? They’re staying at the first place Grandma called. She said it was one of the nicer places on Alkai and would be a good place to start. All she did was call and say she was on her deathbed and needed to talk to her son. She gave him your dad’s name and well… hung up.”

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