The Wager - Dyken Rachel Van - Страница 36

Jake almost choked. “Sixty dollars? To get a piece of paper?” Was it printed on gold? Who the hell paid sixty dollars for something that took two seconds to type out?

Char elbowed him in the ribs. Luckily he always carried cash, so he pulled out three twenty dollar bills and handed them over.

“Thank you so much!” Sally winked. “And congratulations.”

Jake stared at her for a minute. Why did she look so familiar?

“Oh, look! Lunch break!” Sally stood. “Now off you go!”

“It’s ten,” Jake pointed out.

“I like to eat.” Sally walked off.

Jake stared after her.

“Let’s go.” Char grabbed the manila envelope with the license in it. “Mission accomplished, and you Grandma swore you’d make it worth my while and buy me lunch.”

Actually, his goal was to take her on a date, but she didn’t have to know that. It would freak her out; hell, it was freaking him out. He was actually going to do this. Was he ready? Would he ever be ready to take that plunge?

His manhood was on holiday, his brain was fuzzy from last night, and Char’s short white shorts weren’t helping matters.

“Hello?” She picked up her ringing cell phone. “Right. Okay, yeah, not a problem. Uh.” She flushed and looked away from Jake. “I don’t think that—” She cringed. “Fine, okay, yeah.”

“You all right?”

“Sure.” Char waved him off. “It was nothing, just work.”

“They do know you’re on vacation, right?”

“Vacation and Grandma don’t exactly fit in the same sentence.”

“Tell me about it,” he grumbled as he turned the car toward his favorite coffee shop. “I can talk to your boss, you know, if you want.”

The car fell silent.

“My boss?” Char laughed. “What are you going to do? Waltz in there, throw your name around, and make my problems go away?”

“So he is giving you problems.”

“Drop it, Jake. You’re not my big brother protecting me from the bullies on the playground.”

“Hell no, not a brother. I was thinking more of a superhero, like Superman, sweeping in to fix everything.”

Char rolled her eyes and laughed; there went more giddiness. “So you’d pick Superman.”

“Yes.” Jake exhaled and pulled into the coffee shop. “If for no other reason than wearing super tight Speedo-like pants so everyone on God’s green earth could see that I don’t wear extra small condoms.”

He should have remembered the window was open.

A woman getting into her car gasped.

Her small child asked, “Mama, what’s a condom?”

Jake didn’t think it would be appropriate to say a toy, so he just smiled and mouthed sorry to the mother, all the while thinking God hated him.

“I think you should have explained that.” Char laughed, unbuckling her seatbelt when they’d parked.

Jake got out of the car and slammed the door. “Right, and end up getting arrested for saying the wrong anatomical word to a small child. I can only imagine how that could be taken. Jake Titus flashes small child in parking lot.”

“Oh, come on!” Char threw her hands in the air. “You’re exaggerating. The media isn’t that bad.”

“Um, yes they are.” Jake opened the door for her, and the smell of organic coffee floated around them in the shop. “And how can you defend the media? You know as well as I do that a story about me helping a small child would only get twisted into me somehow stealing their ice cream or something.”

Char reached for his hand and squeezed it. “The media isn’t against you.”

“I’m sorry. Do you watch the news?” Jake clenched her hand within his and refused to let it go. In fact, he was holding it hostage, forever. Wow, mature.

They walked up to a small bistro that served coffee and sandwiches and made their way inside.

“What will it be?” The barista asked, eying Jake up and down and completely ignoring Char and everyone else within her vicinity. Why did it suddenly bother him so much that women checked him out and openly ignored Char?

Irritated, Jake lied. “My fiancee and I—well, we just got back from getting our marriage license.” He sighed longingly and gazed into Char’s eyes. “And the thing is, I want to celebrate with my sweetum’s favorite drink. I want it to be extra sweet, just like her.” Oh, gag him.

With a giggle, Char turned into him and wrapped her arms around his neck, playing right along. Though she seemed a bit stiff in his arms. Jake whispered go with it, in her ear and before he knew what was happening she said. “But, baby, all I really need is you.”

She kissed him.

And suddenly… Hell, forget about holding her hand. He was taking her mouth hostage. With a groan he kissed her back, sliding his tongue into her mouth. Tasting her would never get old. He craved everything about her, the way her hands played with the longer hair at the nape of his neck, the graze of her teeth against his lips.

“Excuse me?” The barista said loudly. “There are people behind you and children present. Geez, get a room.”

With strength he nearly didn’t possess, Jake pulled back and glared at the barista. “Already got one, but thanks for the suggestion. Two iced coffees with cream.” Without releasing Char, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty. “Keep the change.”

The barista flushed red and mumbled a thank you as Jake pulled Char away from the counter and then attacked her mouth again.

Char was saying something, but he didn’t care.

Damn, if they’d been anywhere but a public place he’d already have her stripped. He’d completely lose himself in her, and it wouldn’t be just once. No, it would be a marathon of Olympic proportions. He’d chain her to the bed so she couldn’t leave even if she wanted to.

Wow, never took himself for the BDSM type of guy until now. Until the thought of her actually rejecting or leaving him was potentially a reality.

“Jake.” Char’s lips were cherry red from his assault, and swollen at every plump angle. “She’s not watching anymore. That is why you did that, right? You can stop.”

“Right.” He breathed. “I figured.” He tried to get his ragged breathing under control as he heard air escape her swollen lips.

“But you kept kissing me.”

“I did.”

“Two iced coffees on the bar!” someone called out.

Without waiting for Char to ask any more questions, Jake picked up the drinks and led her outside.

After Char took a sip, she opened that lush mouth to speak, but her phone went off again.

“Yes, Grandma? Yes, we have the license. No, no we, no—”

With a curse Char put the phone on the table. “Do you think they’d put a shot of vodka in this if I asked?”

“Do I need to get you help?” Jake winked.

“Shut up. Grandma needs us to get together the rest of the details for the joint Bachelorette and Bachelor party.”

“Wait.” Jake paused, his drink halfway to his lips. “Joint?”

“You heard me.”

“Why? I thought Travis was going to let me—”

“Travis no longer has possession of his balls.” Char sipped on her drink and chewed her straw. “I think we can all agree Grandma has him in a vise grip. Until he gets married, it’s going to stay that way.”

“Poor bastard.”

“Tell me about it.” Char shook her drink. “If it was me and I was getting married, I’d go somewhere far, far away, or just not tell anyone.”

“Good plan. Tell Grandma after you get married, but be sure to do it over the phone so when she pulls out her gun the only thing she has to shoot it at is the wall.”

Char’s smile made a direct hit to his gut. He had to look away. “So, where do we have to go now?”

Shifting in her chair, Char sipped the rest of her drink and avoided eye contact. “Well, uh, Grandma had high tea planned but scratched it this morning.”

“Why?”

“Petunia arrived.”

“Ah! Great Aunt Petunia.” Memories of Aunt Petunia were always so warm: she knitted him the ugliest scarves every Christmas but never failed to send him birthday cards. She’d even attended all his graduations and a few of his baseball games. Too bad Grandma and Petunia hated each other. “Wait, why aren’t you guys doing the high tea?”