Rachel Dyken - The Wager

“Don’t think of it like that.” Kacey put her hand on Char’s arm. “Besides, he remembers you.”

“He does?” Char’s face lit up. Aw, hell. How could she be so blind to her own charm? The girl was gorgeous. Of course that tool would remember her; the ass had probably dated a hundred women in his lifetime and was finally ready to settle down with the one. Which was exactly what Char was. Bastard.

“We kind of told him you’d be there and, well, I don’t know, you should go for it!”

“I’m sorry,” Jake interrupted. “ ‘Go for it’?”

“Um, yeah?” Kacey pinched his arm. “She needs to get out there and start dating. At the rate she’s going she’s going to end up buying a hundred cats and living in a trailer in our backyard.”

“Not true.” Char blushed. “I’m just picky.”

“I blame junior high.” Kacey sighed. “I swear, ever since eighth grade camp you’ve sworn off most men who even look twice at you.”

Char blushed and looked down at her folded hands.

“Eighth grade?” Jake repeated. “Hey, I was at that camp with you guys.”

Char lifted her head and smiled. “Right. I forgot.”

Jake sure hadn’t. He’d made out with tons of girls that summer. It had been the best summer ever. He’d even had a small crush on Char before she started going all crazy on him: one day they were friends and the next, sworn enemies.

Until that fateful night he’d slept with her.

Then they’d been more than friends for a few hours.

Which begged the question, what were they now? It wasn’t like he wanted her dating anyone else. No, he’d kill any other guy that touched her.

Not that he wanted to be the guy that got to touch her.

Then again. His eyes scanned her face, lips, eyes. Shit, maybe he wanted to try to be that guy she giggled with Kacey about. You know, if girls still did that at twenty-three.

“Please?” Kacey begged. “For me? Just keep an open mind when you meet him, okay? And if anything happens—” she shrugged—“it happens.”

Jake came to Char’s rescue, at least in his mind, when he added his two cents. “Don’t pressure her, Kace. Being alone isn’t a terrible thing. I know lots of single girls who are perfectly happy with their careers and lives. Not everyone wants to get married and have kids.”

“Right.” Kacey pointed at Jake. “And if you want to end up like him, then by all means, Char, be my guest.”

“But…” Jake shook his head. “I’m just trying to say it’s her choice.”

“Just like your choice is to whore around.” Kacey slapped his back. “To each his own, right?”

Why was he suddenly embarrassed by his past? And why the hell was he letting Kacey browbeat him?

Char was looking at him as if she expected him to say something or defend her, but he didn’t know what he was supposed to be saying or doing. The only thing he noticed was that her color was high. Was she embarrassed, too?

“Finally!” Grandma burst through the front door with tons of bags in her hands. “Do you even realize how hard it is to find a good firework in Seattle?”

“Um, should we be concerned?” Sure enough, Char pointed at a bag labeled “Fireworks”.

“Not unless she has matches.” Travis answered just as Grandma pulled out enough matches to burn down the whole of Alkai Beach.

“I told you it would be the best birthday!” Grandma smiled, dropped her bags, then walked over to Char. In an instant she was in Grandma’s arms. “You’re a special girl, and you deserve a special day with family.”

A tear ran down Char’s face when she pulled away from Grandma and said thank you.

The room fell silent again, and then Grandma began barking orders about a cake, fireworks, and margaritas. 

If someone had told Char when she woke up this morning that she’d be having the best birthday of her life in a million-dollar condo on Alkai Beach, she would have laughed. It was hard to believe it even though she was living it.

Grandma had bought a ridiculously good cake from downtown. It was red velvet with sprinkles and had the most amazing frosting she’d ever had in her entire life. She’d even brought the makings for margaritas, Char’s favorite.

Since Grandma’s arrival, Jake had been distant, almost cool. She only hoped it wasn’t because of all the kissing. She’d been upset, and he was just trying to be nice. Like he’d said before, it wasn’t real. It didn’t count because it was her birthday. Right?

“How you holdin’ up?” Jake said, taking a seat by her. “Best birthday ever?”

Char laughed and clinked her glass with his. “Best birthday ever. That is, unless Grandma sets someone on fire, then that would trump it.”

“We’ll be lucky if no one ends up in the ER tonight,” Travis said from their spot on the beach. He and Grandma had been fighting a losing battle with the fireworks for the past hour while everyone else drank margaritas and watched.

“I’m glad we did this,” Kacey said. “Before all the crazy wedding stuff. It’s nice just to be with everyone.”

Grandma snorted as she pulled out another match. Travis backed away while she waved it in the air. “Crazy wedding stuff is right. And don’t think I forgive you two for inviting Petunia.”

Travis groaned. “She’s your sister.”

“She’s a disappointment!” Grandma thrust her fist into the air.

“What did she do?” Char asked, even though Jake was shaking his head no and Travis was waving frantically behind Grandma.

“What did she do?” Grandma asked. “What did she do?”

“She’s repeating herself.” Jake groaned. “Bad sign. Quick, get her another margarita.”

Grandma smacked him on the back of the head and approached Char. “My sister called me a harlot.”

Char bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“At my own wedding!”

Jake raised his hand. “Grandma, you do realize she only called you that because you were on the table—”

“Ssh!” Grandma waved him away. “She’s a prude and she only wears white.”

Char frowned. “Why only white?”

Jake groaned next to her but she ignored him.

Grandma threw the match into the bonfire and shook her head. “She says red’s the color of the devil.”

“And black?”

“The color of hell.”

“Blue?” Char had to ask.

“Sadness.”

“Well, that’s silly.”

“It is,” Grandma agreed. “What she needs is to get a man, but she’s so terrified of them that she’s stayed single. All those years.” She shook her head and tsked.

“All those cats,” Kacey sang from behind Grandma.

“Your future,” Travis nodded, “if you don’t take our advice and go out with Jace.”

“Jace?” Grandma whipped around. “You invited him to the wedding?”

“Fair is fair,” Kacey nodded. “I mean, we want to even out the odds with all the couples, right?”

Grandma glared and then began wringing her hands together.

Char scooted closer to Jake. “I think we’re missing something.”

“Don’t look at me! I’m as clueless as you.”

At that, Grandma snorted. “Yes, he is. Tell me, did you get any wedding preparation done today?”

Jake coughed and looked away.

“Two days!” Grandma held up two fingers. “And Char, don’t forget to request those extra days off with your boss. We don’t want you getting fired.” She winked at Jake.

“Very funny,” he grumbled.

“I think we’re ready!” Travis announced from a few feet behind them.

“Me first!” Grandma charged toward him with her one match and lit it. After a few seconds the firework shot into the sky and cracked.

Fireworks, and they were all for her.

Char giggled and tried to get comfortable in the sand. She felt fingertips graze her shoulder and then Jake was pulling her into his arms. She leaned back against him and sighed as he whispered in her hair. “Happy Birthday, Cinderella.”

“Thanks, Charming.”

“Can I take off your shoes now?”

“Not a chance.”

He tensed behind her.

“But you can hold my hand.”

“Even better.” His hands engulfed hers from behind as he held them in the safety of his embrace.

It was the perfect moment.

Until they heard sirens.

“Uh, Grandma?” Travis scratched his head. “You did get a license from the fire department to set off fireworks on the beach, right?”

Grandma’s silence was answer enough.

Everyone jumped to their feet and made a run for it. All the while Grandma yelled, “I’m not going back to the slammer!”

Luckily they made it safely into the house just as the fire truck and cops showed up on the beach. They turned off all the lights and locked the door.

“On that note,” Grandma sighed happily, “Shall we all go to bed?”

“Yes.” Travis growled, pulling Kacey against him.

Kacey pulled away. “Not until the wedding, hot shot… enjoy the couch.” She slapped his stomach and winked, but Travis wasn’t having any of it. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly, pushing her against the wall.

“Close your eyes,” Jake whispered in Char’s ear. “Last time I kept them open too long I saw tongue—haven’t been the same ever since.”

He let out a grunt when Char smacked him on the stomach and made her way to the bedroom.

“Oh, and Char? You and Jake can take the loft.” Grandma waved good night and walked off.

“But…” Char called to her. “Aren’t there more rooms?”

“Nope,” Jake murmured under his breath. “Looks like you’re stuck with me. Look on the bright side. It’s still your birthday; maybe you’ll get lucky.”

He moved away before Char could hit him. “And maybe you’ll survive the night without getting castrated.”

“Not what you said last time.”

Char glared. “You really want to bring up last time when I’m this close to knives and matches?”

Jake nodded and backed away. “I’ll just go take a shower and see if I can’t find you something to wear to bed.” 

He was fine.

Fine, fine, fine.

Way too many fines in that sentence. Sure, Jake was doing a stellar job of convincing himself that being in the same room with Char wasn’t going to kill him. It was like junior high camp all over again. Except this time, he knew exactly what he was missing out on while the girl slept far, far, away from him.

He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to focus on the task at hand: finding Char some clothes. Then again, no clothes were always an option. He smirked, then remembered her threat and continued his search.

Opening up the top dresser door, he found some boxers and a t-shirt he used to wear in high school. Those would work.

By the time he had climbed the stairs to the loft he had almost convinced himself that it wasn’t a big deal. “Almost” being the key word.

Char was already lying on the bed, her legs crossed and her arms behind her head, causing her breasts to push against her dress in such a dizzying way that Jake had to close his eyes for a brief second. Take that back—not like junior high camp, not at all.

“I found you clothes.” He threw them toward her face. Okay, so maybe kind of like junior high camp after all, since he was still bullying the girls he liked. Where had his game gone? Out the window, that’s where.

“Thanks,” Char muttered, pulling the clothes off her face. “Hey, I remember this shirt.” She laughed and held it up to her chest. “Man of the Year, huh?”

Jake scratched his head and looked away. “Yeah, well, that was a long time ago.” He had been voted Man of the Year in high school, which basically to a hormonal teenage guy meant he was some sort of sexual god sent down to give attention to all girls within his vicinity. They’d loved that shirt. Every time he wore it—well, let’s just say every time he wore it, he was tardy to class.

“I hated this shirt.” Char put it on the bed and sighed.

“You hated it?” Jake took a seat next to her and grabbed the shirt. Had he really been that small? Hell, back in the day he’d thought he was a cut, muscled god. Pathetic, really. The shirt wouldn’t even fit him now.

“Hated it.” Char leaned back on her arms. “I thought it was stupid that people voted on something so silly and that girls took it so seriously. Like, oh my gosh! Did you see Jake Titus today? He’s so hot and he’s wearing the shirt. You know what that means!”

“Shit, how’d you know?”

“Everyone knew.” Char laughed. “If you wore the shirt, it meant you were ready for a little… extracurricular make out session behind the gym. Girls would go to their lockers, add lipstick, hike up their skirts, and just wait for you to pick them. So yeah, I hated that shirt.” She sighed. “Not that much has changed, though. At least now you get your pick without the shirt, right?”