The Wager

Book 2: The Bet Series

by Rachel Van Dyken

Genres: Contemporary Romance; Women's Fiction

Synopsis

Lose a bet, lose your heart.

What is it about a junior high crush that can send an otherwise intelligent woman into a tailspin? Television reporter Char Lynn wishes she knew. Jake Titus is too rich, too handsome, too arrogant: a trifecta that once lured Char into the best night—and worst morning after—of her life.

Now they’ve been thrown together in a wedding party. It’s awkward, but survivable—until Jake stops acting like a jerk and starts acting like the man she had always hoped he could be.

If watching your brother marry your best friend is weird, being attracted to your best friend’s other best friend is downright bizarre. Unfortunately for Jake, Char hasn’t forgotten how he once tossed her aside.

Worse still, Jake’s already nutty grandma is even crazier about Char. Cue cute shenanigans and all manner of meddling, and somehow, Jake is falling—for Char. Now all he has to do is make her believe it!

A Blackstone Audio production.

Release date: October 1, 2013

Publisher: Forever

Print pages: 373

Sample

Present Day

“Grandma, what the hell are you doing?” Jake took in her two larger-than-life suitcases, giant pink Coach handbag, and what looked like a dead animal on her head, and cursed again.

“Language, Jake.” Grandma Nadine squared her shoulders and pushed past him to the ticket counter.

Oh no. Oh, hell no. Merciful God above. Jake looked around for Aileen, his latest conquest and plus one for the engagement party for his brother, Travis.

“Yes, I need only a one-way ticket,” Grandma announced loudly to the Alaska Airlines clerk at the kiosk. Jake watched with a mixture of horror and panic as his grandmother bought a ticket for the same flight as his. Please let her credit card be declined; please, please.

“Here you go!” The evil lady handed over a boarding pass and smiled at Grandma. Jake glared at the woman and then at his grandmother.

“No.” He shook his head when she approached him, all smiles. “You aren’t coming.” He crossed his arms and stood his ground.

“I am.” Grandma waved her ticket in front of his face and smiled. “Now, get my bags.”

“But—”

“Jakey?” Aileen strutted toward him. With a skirt shorter than what should be allowed in any public place, let alone an airport, she fluffed her hair and walked next to his side. Her bleached blond hair was held up by at least two cans of hair spray, and by the looks of her inability to walk in a straight line, she was still drunk from yesterday.

Grandma smiled brightly. “How lovely! It seems your whore has arrived.”

Jake groaned and covered his face with his hands. There was no way out of it. His grandmother was going to get him shot.

A&E women scorned, here I come.

“Excuse me?” Aileen put her hands on her hips and did a weird head nod at Grandma, and nearly teetered off her high heels. Oh, this wasn’t good. Not good at all.

Grandma reached out and patted Aileen’s arm. “Sweetheart, I’m the one with hearing aids, not you. I called you a whore. Would you like me to spell it for you, too?” She nudged Jake. “What did you do? Find her at a high school career fair?” And then in a horrifyingly loud voice she began spelling “W-H-O-R-E.”

Was his grandmother really spelling “whore” in an international airport? To his girlfriend? Sex buddy? What was she?

Shit, he didn’t even know her last name.

Probably a bad sign.

“I’ll have you know that—”

“Jake, I’m hungry. Take me to get food.” Grandma looped her arm in his and began pulling him, with more strength than an eighty-six-year-old woman ought to possess, toward security.

“But what about me?” Aileen pouted behind them.

Grandma stopped in her tracks and turned around. “Honey, I’m sure you can find another nice little plaything between now and the time your flight leaves. This one’s taken.”

Aileen snorted. “Didn’t take you for having that kind of taste.” This was directed at Jake. He opened his mouth to say, This is my grandma. Instead, Grandma smacked a large kiss on Jake’s cheek and then pinched his ass.

“Oh, honey, you have no idea what this one is into.” She winked. Good God, she’d just winked and alluded to Jake as—he couldn’t even finish the thought. Horrified, he saw Aileen’s eyes widen. He opened his mouth to speak but was smacked on the ass again as his grandmother pulled him in the other direction.

Karma: It was finally coming for him. And it was in the form of an eighty-six-year-old woman with lipstick on her teeth. Hell.

BREATHE, CHAR, JUST breathe. In and out, there you go.” Char tried to even her breathing but was finding it very difficult, considering her sister continued to slap her across the back every time she opened her mouth.

“Hand me the paper bag.” Char jerked the bag out of her sister’s hands and began breathing slowly into it. Finally, after two minutes of thinking she was going to die, the panic attack receded.

“All better?” Beth whispered.

“No.” Char bit her lip and looked down the aisle. The very same aisle Jake Titus had, minutes before, walked down. He even looked in her direction, offered a polite smile, and then proceeded to go to his seat.

A smile.

That was all she was worth. One polite smile. It didn’t help that the plane chose that exact moment to hit the worst turbulence of her life.

But the icing on the cake, what really made this day the worst day of her life, was when the flight attendant’s boobs accidentally—right; accidently—fell out of her shirt and into Jake’s face.

The man needed to be neutered. He was like walking sex, and everyone around him knew it. Even if he wasn’t a real celebrity, he still attracted women like rats to cheese.

She’d been a rat once. “Bastard,” she mumbled under her breath, clenching her hands into small fists.

But that had been years ago. She was jaded now. Wiser and stronger.

Yes, stronger. She was a public figure, for crying out loud! She could and would act like everything was fine.

And it was.

It was, it was, it was.

“Char?” Beth nudged her. “You’re rocking back and forth again. Do I need to get the bag?”

“Nope.” Char felt a smile curl at her lips. “I’ll be right back.”

Beth put out her arm to block Char’s way. “No, absolutely not. You’ve got that crazy look in your eyes. And I really don’t want you to go to prison. As your sister and future maid of honor, I cannot with good conscience let you by me.”

“I’ll buy you a new Louis Vuitton purse.”

“On the other hand… you are an adult and you can make your own decisions. Carry on.” Beth lifted her arm. “Black. I want the black one.”

Char rolled her eyes and made her way toward Jake’s seat.

The FASTEN SEAT BELT sign was no longer on, so Char was in the clear. She’d practiced this speech ever since that fateful day last year when they’d reconnected. Char had wanted more than a one-night stand, and Jake—well, he’d wanted a one-night stand and a thank-you. She’d never told their mutual friend Kacey, and swore she’d take it to her grave. That was, unless she saw him again—and then all bets were off.

She had wondered what she would say to him if she ever saw him again. How would he react? Would he apologize for being an ass? Or would he even remember her? He didn’t even seem to recognize her! Then again, her hair was longer now. But faces didn’t change.

If only they did.

She really should ask God about that one. Jake needed more than a new face. He needed an actual heart inside that muscled body.

Her eyes darted to the passengers a few rows behind him. A girl had a cup of water sitting on her table. “Hey, honey, can I borrow this?”

“Oh my gosh!” The girl looked about twelve, and began clapping her hands wildly. “Aren’t you that news lady?”

“Why, yes.” Char usually loved being recognized, but not now. Now she needed to be incognito. She tried to ignore the excited smile on the girls’ face, tried and failed. Accepting her fate, she engaged her. “You must watch the news a lot, huh?”

“No.” The girl sighed. “But my mommy and daddy laughed really hard when you fell out of your chair that one time. They said you were drinking alcohol and that’s why you fell.”

Fan-freaking-tastic. Had everyone seen that YouTube clip? It had been filmed the night after she’d hung out with Jake. Because she’d felt sorry for him, which was bad choice number one; that was followed by bad choice number two, which was bringing along a bottle of tequila and waking up in a hotel suite to nothing but a thank-you note and a killer hangover. She was lucky she’d even made it to work on time.

Then again, luck didn’t get you more than two million hits on YouTube and a spot on the Today show with Kathy Lee and Hoda, who graciously declined their wine and offered Char tequila shots in honor of her night of horror.

“I wasn’t drinking,” Char explained. “I was… tired and overworked and—” Holy crap, she was officially going to lose it in front of a twelve-year-old. “You know what? Never mind. How’s five bucks sound?”

“Five bucks?”

“Give me your water and I’ll give you five bucks.”

“Make it ten.”

Char glared.

The girl glared back. Fine. Ten bucks to make her feel better about Jake being an ass? Deal; she’d take that bet.

Char reached into her back pocket and pulled out a twenty. Shit.

The girl swiped it from her hand before Char could do anything. Grumbling, she grabbed the cup and made her way toward Jake’s seat.

Two more rows.

Finally. She stopped at Jake’s row and cleared her throat.

He didn’t look up.

She cleared her throat again.

Finally, he slowly raised his head. His mouth dropped open. “Char?”

“Jake,” she purred.

“How are you? I mean, it’s been forever!” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Actually, it had been eleven months, one week, and five days. But hey, who was counting? Not her.

“Hasn’t it, though?” She leaned against the seat.

“We should catch up.” He eyed her up and down before coughing and looking away.

“We should.” She agreed, and then, before she lost her nerve, she dumped the entire cup of water down the front of his pants. “But I don’t date assholes who abandon me after sex.”

“What the—”

He made a move to stand up just as she buzzed the flight attendant and announced loudly, “Sorry. It seems Jake Titus just peed his pants. Could you please help us?”

Snickering erupted around them, and Char smirked at a gaping Jake. He reached across the seat toward a striking elderly woman sitting next to him.

“Well, well.” Char leaned on the seat and whispered, “Looks like you’re going for every type of woman these days, eh, Jake?”

“Oh, he truly does,” the lady piped up. “Did you know that he had the balls to take a whore to his brother’s engagement party?”

Holy crap, please let the elderly lady be talking about someone else and not referring to herself.

“I, uh…” Char took a moment to compose herself. “Actually, I believe it.”

“And you know what else?” The woman released Jake’s hand and leaned forward over his seat. He rolled his eyes but otherwise kept silent.

“What?” Whoever this crazy lady was, Char liked her. A lot. Pity that Jake was going to break her heart. No judgment, but was he really the type of guy to go for women more than twice his age?

“His high school sweetheart is marrying his brother. He tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him. But a grandma knows these things.” She patted Jake’s hand.

Ah… grandma. Wait? Was this the infamous Grandma Nadine Kacey was always talking about? Even though Char had grown up relatively near the Titus family, she’d never actually met the old woman… until now.

“So…” Grandma leaned back. “I’m going to fix him.”

Jake groaned.

“You mean you’re going to neuter him?”

“Oh, honey.” Grandma choked on her laughter. “There would be nothing better for the boy than getting neutered. Did you know I even looked into a male chastity belt?”

Jake groaned again. “Dear Lord, save me from the female sex.”

“Sex.” Char snorted. “Kind of what got you in this predicament in the first place, wouldn’t you say?”

The flight attendant chose that exact moment to walk up. “Where’s the young man who wet his pants?” There was a nice pair of Depends in her hand.

Both Grandma and Char pointed to Jake.

KARMA. OH, HOW he loathed it. That’s what was happening to him. After all, a guy can whore himself around the world only so many times before God starts smiting or killing, or in Jake’s case, plaguing him with emotional women.

“I did not—” Jake cleared his throat and whispered, “Have an accident. This woman here”—he pointed to Char—“accosted me.”

The flight attendant looked between the two of them. “With what, sir?”

“Water,” Grandma answered for him. “She threw water on him.”

“Um…” The flight attendant shifted nervously on her feet. “Sir, did you, um… that is to say… did you want to report her?”

“To whom?” Char laughed. “The air marshal? What’s he going to do? Taser me for throwing water on this one’s favorite anatomical part?” She thrust her finger in Jake’s face and laughed. “Seriously! It’s not like I said ‘bomb.’ ”

“Oh, hell.” Jake pinched the bridge of his nose as the word “bomb” was repeated and then murmured back through several seats behind him, until like a literal bomb, the plane was in an uproar.

“Ma’am!” The flight attendant raised her hands in front of Char’s face. “Calm down. I need you to calm down. Do you have a bomb?”

“What?” Char’s face fell. “Why the heck would I have a bomb?”

Good. At least she had enough sense to stop talking when—

“If I had a bomb, it’s not like I would be stupid enough to announce it anyway!”

Just kidding. No sense, no logic. How could he forget? It was Char they were talking about. She adopted blind dogs and cried during the stupid Sarah McLachlin animal rescue commercials. Clearly, common sense wasn’t one of her strong suits.

“Ma’am! I need you to stop raising your voice.” The flight attendant motioned to someone behind her. Within seconds, a man in jeans and a white T-shirt appeared. Well, it wouldn’t be fair to call him just a man since he probably ate small children for breakfast. Even Jake shifted uncomfortably and avoided eye contact with him.

“Are you the one talking about bombing the plane?” the man asked.

“What?” Char looked to Jake for help. And honestly, helping her probably would have been the right thing to do, all things considered.

But she had thrown water on his pants and then accused him of having an accident.

And there was also that one time in high school when she’d told everyone that the reason he didn’t play sports was because he was afraid everyone would see his girl parts in the locker room.

So, yeah. Perhaps he wasn’t feeling very Samaritan-like.

“Jake!” Char smacked him on the shoulder. “Help me out here!”

With an evil grin, he opened his mouth to talk, but his grandma slammed her hand across it before any words could come out.

“Both of them. They both have bombs.” Then Grandma Nadine promptly burst into tears.

Real honest-to-God tears.

The next thing Jake knew, he was getting zip-tied and then force-fed peanuts by a man who had hands larger than Jake’s face, because the minute he was escorted to his seat, he nearly passed out. Swell, a nervous breakdown. Just another thing to add to what had to have been the worst few months of his life.

Next thing he knew, Char was spouting out nonsense about how Jake needed protein. For some reason—perhaps it was the fact that the room was spinning—he couldn’t respond fast enough to say that he hated peanuts.

He was still trying to decide what was most horrifying: the fact that a man was actually trying to force-feed him something that rhymed with “penis,” or that the man’s fingers were softer than anything he’d ever felt against his lips. Which really begged the question, why were his fingers even touching Jake’s lips? And why did it feel so…?

Holy shit. He gripped the armrests and cringed. Was he switching playing fields?

“No more penis—I mean peanuts.” Damn.

Char peered around the man and gawked. “Did you just say no more pe—”

“No!” Jake forced a laugh and tried to move as far away as possible from the man sitting between them. “I said ‘peanuts.’ ”

“No, you didn’t.” Char grinned.

“I did.”

“You didn’t.”

“Can we please take these things off?” Jake said as he jerked against the armrests. The zip ties wouldn’t budge and were making permanent marks on his skin. “It’s not like we really have bombs! My grandma’s insane, like, literally insane! You have no idea what she’s capable of.”

“That apple didn’t fall far from the tree,” Char huffed.

“Do you mind?” Jake peered around the air marshal. “I’m trying to get us out of a difficult situation. The least you could do is help or apologize!”

“Apologize?” Char’s eyes widened. “Apologize?” Her nostrils flared as she leaned as far as the zip ties would allow and glared at Jake. “I’m surprised you even know the meaning of the word.”

Jake snorted. “I know what it means, but I’m not the guilty party.”

“Holy crap, I want to slap you across the face so hard—”

“Slap me ‘across the face so hard’? Who the hell talks like that? Same old Char, all bark and no bite. Besides, your hands are literally tied. I can say whatever the hell I want and you have to sit there and listen. In fact…”

He paused and turned the full effect of his megawatt movie-star smile on to Char. His perfectly straight white teeth clenched together as he slowly licked his bottom lip and leaned in expectantly. An errant wave of dark hair fell over his eye. Damn, the man was so sexually attractive it was offensive.

“Don’t you do it, Jake Titus. Don’t you dare do it! I’ll, I’ll—”

Jake yawned. “I’m waiting.”

“I’ll—”

“So it happened like this.” Jake turned to the air marshal and cleared his throat, but for some reason it wouldn’t clear. His mouth suddenly felt like he was swallowing cotton. “Thar…” His tongue felt huge. “Thar, I—”

“Holy crap!” Char yelled and kicked in her seat. “Um, Jake, um, Mr. Air Marshal Guy—”

“Randall. The name is Randall.” The guy held out his hand, then, realizing Char was still zip-tied, chuckled. Jake was completely blocked from his view. Weird; it was almost like he was having trouble breathing. Maybe it was the altitude. He tried swallowing again. Shit. It was getting harder to breathe. What the hell?

“Jake!” Char yelled louder this time and kicked the air marshal next to him. “Look, Randall? We’ve got a problem. You’re about five seconds away from having a death on your hands.”

“Dweath!” Jake croaked. Holy freaking shit, was Char going to murder him? Was the plane crashing? Well, it wasn’t as if he had anything to live for now that his grandmother had threatened career suicide if he didn’t straighten up. It was either death by her or apparently by another scorned woman. He’d take his chances with Char any day over an irritated eighty-six-year-old with enough lipstick to outline his lifeless body for the police.

He could see the newspaper article now. Jake Titus, millionaire bad boy, cut off from entire family, dies in a plane crash with peanut crumbs on his face. Not that they would find the peanut crumbs, considering his body would probably be incinerated and… When had his life gotten so depressing?

He blamed his brother’s impending marriage. Everything had gone downhill since his brother had proposed to Jake’s childhood best friend.

“Pardon?” The air marshal stiffened, jolting Jake from his morose daydream—or nightmare, however one wanted to look at it.

“Look!” Char nodded her head in Jake’s direction. So was this how he was going to die? By Char’s hand—a woman scorned. Well, technically it would be by the air marshal’s disturbingly soft peanut-feeding hands. How the hell had he ended up starring in his own TV melodrama?

“Sir, calm down.” The air marshal’s eyes widened as he stood and hit his head on the ceiling, cursed, and then ran away up the aisle. Jake’s eyes followed him. Damn. What was his problem? Was he really that concerned about Jake’s impending death?

“So…” Char’s eyes narrowed. “You allergic to anything, Jake?”

“Ha-ha!” he croaked. “Yeah, right. What? You gonna poison me? Sorry, babe, I’m kind of on the right fide of pwerfection.”

Char’s bow-shaped mouth dipped into a scowl. “Yeah, there went my apology.”

“For what?” Jake straightened in his seat. Maybe if he moved around he could breathe easier.

With a muffled curse, Char shrugged and looked away.

Was it hot in this airplane? What the hell was happening with his mouth? His hands had begun to itch something fierce. He looked down and froze, staring at his hands.

His very swollen, Mickey Mouse hands.

“HOLY SHWIT!” He jerked violently against the seat. “My wands, my wands!”

“Wands?” A lady turned around and stared at them both.

Char nodded solemnly. “Please excuse my friend. He’s under the impression he’s the tooth fairy.”

Full-on panic set in as it got harder and harder to breathe. Was he having an allergic reaction, or was he just freaking out? Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. He looked up the aisle and noticed his grandma was strutting down it with some sort of object in her hands. Great. Now he was going to get knifed by his own grandma. Would flying experiences never be normal for him?

“Don’t worry, Jake!” Grandma pointed at him and nodded. “Grandma’s got this.” She raised her hand high into the air. Jake closed his eyes. Maybe this was just a bad dream. Maybe he wasn’t really zip-tied. Maybe he was having a nervous breakdown and—

“Son of a bwitch!” Jake wailed as Grandma stabbed a needle through the hole in his jeans directly into his thigh. Well, if he didn’t die, he would surely pass out from the pain. So many things to look forward to.

When the pressure subsided and the needle was gone—thank God—he opened one eye, then two, to see Grandma standing in front of him with what could only be described as a torture device in her hand.

“He was allergic as a small boy. I wonder if the stress did him in…” She tsked and then motioned to Char. “Thank you, my dear. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t have told Randall here that Jake was going to die.”

“You’re a hero, ma’am.” Randall’s lower lip quivered as he nodded his head and looked down at the ground.

You’ve got to be shitting me.

All eyes turned to Jake.

He would have sworn the plane around him fell into a deathly silence. To be fair, it was an extremely small silence, since the flight from Portland to Seattle was less than an hour.

“Jake.” Grandma sighed. “Don’t you have something you need to say to Char?”

You’re insane? You almost killed me? I want to strangle you? Grumbling, he turned to look at her—really look at her. Damn, if she wasn’t still irritatingly beautiful. He could almost feel her silky hair as if it ran through his fingers. And that mouth? It was enough to drive any man to distraction. Even in his current condition he wanted to touch her lips and…

Where the hell had that thought come from?

Must be the allergic reaction.

Long chestnut hair fell in waves across her shoulders. Her blue eyes widened just a bit as his gaze fell to her full, pink lips. Only they weren’t widened in concern; if anything, she was trying not to laugh.

“No.” Jake glared. “I think she knows exactly how I feel about her.”

Char’s smirk fell as her eyes turned icy. “He’s right.” Her gaze flickered back to Grandma. “He said all he needed to say the night after he slept with me and then left me a note on my pillow saying thank you. Isn’t that right, Jake?”

He should have seen the slap coming. But to be fair, he was still in shock that Char would air out their dirty laundry in front of God and everyone.

So when he felt the air whoosh by his ear, he did what any man would do. He ducked. Too bad his grandma wasn’t one to give up easily.

The second slap was a backhand and it burned like hell.

“I’ve raised you better than that!” Grandma Nadine thrust her finger in Jake’s face and shook her head.

With a huff, she straightened her jacket and ordered Randall, the weepy air marshal, to untie Char, explaining that really, the issue was not with her but with Jake. Feeling wronged, Jake began yelling at the air marshal about Char saying “bomb” on the plane, only to get into more trouble for repeating the word.

The final nail in Jake’s coffin was when Grandma looked Randall in the eye and said, “She saved his life.”

The next hour was the longest of his life.

His breathing was raspy. His face was most likely still swollen from both the reaction and his grandma;. . .