Rachel Dyken - The Wager

“You slept with her!”

“What? Who?”

“Char!”

“Yes!” Her eyes grew twice their normal size. “No, I mean a long time ago, yes.”

Holy shit he was sweating.

Kacey released the hostage ear and crossed her arms. “How long?”

“A year or so.” He looked down at the ground. “It was a mistake.”

“You!” Kacey poked his chest as Jake tried to shush her. “You’re the one that she spent the night with before the whole YouTube clip.”

“Guilty.” In more than one way.

Scowling, Kacey shook her head. “I should have known. All signs pointed to a Titus.”

“All signs?”

“Yeah, drinking, debauchery, irresponsibility, TV…”

Jake held up his hand for her to stop. “Fine, I get it. But it’s not like I’ve done anything since, and you know it.” Damn her for calling him on his bullshit. When he’d got drunk at her engagement party she’d told him to shape up his life or die in a prostitute’s bed—no joke. It wasn’t as if he didn’t try to do right, it just seemed like every time he did, he got shit on. It was so much easier to go the other route, to be what people expected. Irresponsible and carefree. It seemed the minute he did try to act serious and be responsible—people asked if he was drunk. It was embarrassing and again made him want to flinch, to pull away, and fall back into old habits.

“You have that look,” Kacey said, interrupting his morose thoughts.

“Look, what look?” Jake tried to change his face but failed miserably when Char walked by the window.

“That look!” Kacey poked him in the chest again. “You’re falling for her!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

Jake wiped his face with his hand and cursed. “Can you please be an adult?”

“Says the guy who slept with two drunken twins last night.”

“I didn’t.” Jake coughed. “I couldn’t… I mean… I didn’t want to and I didn’t.”

“Couldn’t? Or didn’t?”

Jake felt his face flush. “Both.” Damn, maybe he did need Viagra. What a depressing thought. How old was he, twenty-three?

“You hurt her,” Kacey’s finger pressed harder into his chest, “I cut off your—”

“Dinner!” Grandma announced, opening the door to the outside porch.

Kacey turned away and answered. “Coming, Grandma!’ Then shot a glare to Jake. “Use your imagination.”

“Finger?” He said sweetly.

“You’re an ass.” She looped her arm within his as they walked around the house to the outdoor gazebo where dinner was being served.

Jake exhaled. “So I’ve been told, over and over and over again.”

Kacey stopped walking and sighed. “Aren’t you tired of it?” Her eyes pleaded with his and for once in his life he couldn’t find his mask of indifference, the one any insecure guy used when he was trying to damn the world and live for himself. With a heavy shudder he shrugged. It was all he could manage to do. Words seemed too hard to form.

Kacey looked toward the gazebo where Char was escorted by Jace. “I hate losing, so know I’m only saying this because I love you… but.”

Jake waited.

“Love is always worth it.”

With that, Kacey leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, then walked toward a waiting Travis.

Char was going to gnaw her own arm off and eat it. Was Jake’s mom trying to torment her by waving those delicious-smelling potatoes under her nose? Char had heard that Jake’s mom had a problem with talking too much, but she had no idea it would be like that.

Back and forth the spoon went as Bets talked. Over the plate, over the bowl, over the plate, over the bowl. She probably looked like a cat playing with its mouse.

Bets laughed with Kacey—dipped the spoon into the mashed potatoes and lifted to serve Char—but then was distracted by the conversation. The spoon hovered yet again over Char’s plate and then returned to its serving bowl. Char could have sworn Kacey was keeping Bets talking on purpose.

Finally, three hours later—okay, fine, it was more like twenty minutes—everyone was served and happily eating. You know, if happily eating included Grandma telling Vegas stories while Travis stared at the chicken like it was turning him on.

Char had half a mind to feel sorry for the guy; then again, he was getting married in a week. It wasn’t as if he was going to die or anything.

Jace was to Char’s right, Jake was to her left. Yeah, so that wasn’t awkward. Each time Jace’s arm brushed hers she leaned further into Jake, which made her shiver all over whenever his skin touched hers.

Drinking water had always been her nervous tic. Awkward moment? Take a sip of water. Don’t know what to say? Take a sip of water.

She had no water.

Only wine.

Which meant if she had any hope of getting through the night she’d be polishing off every single bottle on the table.

As it was, she had already had two glasses and they were only on the third course.

“So.” Jace poured her another glass. Oh dear. “Travis tells me you’re a star reporter.”

“I don’t know if I would say star…”

“Of course you are.” Travis winked from across the table. “She’s a Seattle favorite.”

“You’d be my favorite.” Jace winked.

Jake coughed wildly next to her. She elbowed him in the ribs while she kept her eyes trained on Jace’s. “Thank you. That’s sweet.”

He shrugged in an oh golly gosh way that made Char want to puke and said, “Yeah, well, it’s true.”

Char looked away and took a bite of mashed potatoes. At least the food was amazing even if the company were all slowly losing their minds. Jace said something else, but she wasn’t focused enough to care, not with Jake’s leg touching hers.

She turned her attention to Jace, who laughed and leaned in. “Sorry, it’s just that you have mashed potatoes on your face.”

His mouth was inches from hers when all of a sudden Jake jolted from his seat. “Son of a bitch!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Wescott Titus, Jake’s dad, flew out of his seat and looked around the table.

“Uh.” Jake’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. “Squirrel. I thought I saw a squirrel.”

Kacey took a sip of wine. “Jake’s scared of squirrels.”

“Remind me to put one in your pants,” Char joked.

“Maybe then he could find his nuts.” This from Travis.

Bets laughed awkwardly and poured more wine into her glass and then nudged for Wescott to say something, but Grandma was already on top of things.

“Oh, I don’t know. All my grandsons possess nuts. Every last one. I made sure every one of them were males when they were born, didn’t I, Wescott?”

“I, uh…” Wescott looked to Bets and nodded his head emphatically. “To the most dutiful of Grandmothers.” He cringed and lifted his wine glass. “Cheers.”

“No nuts?” Jake repeated, apparently still stuck on the first jab against his manhood.

“You heard him,” Jace said from Char’s right. “The first step is admitting you have a problem.”

“With what?” Jake clenched his fists. “Finding my nuts? My manhood? My balls? Who the hell do you think you are?” His face had turned red.

“Oh, he’s a senator.” Bets piped in. Not helpful.

Someone kicked Char. It was probably meant for Bets, because seconds later she winced in pain.

“You know what?” Jake threw down his napkin. “I’m about done with you and your attitude, Mr. Senator.”

“Are you?” Jace said coolly as he set down his water and grinned. “That’s funny, because I was about done with you the minute I heard you were going to be in this wedding. Tell me, when was the last time you even had dinner with Travis? When was the last time you went golfing with him? Hmm? Met his friends? Any of that ring a bell, best man?” Jace gave Jake a smug grin. “You’re the brother, therefore he has to give it to you, but as far as friends go? You’re as shitty as they come.”

“That’s it!” Jake launched himself at Jace.

Jace backed up and then threw a punch at Jake’s face.

“And stay the hell away from Char!” Jake landed another blow to Jace’s cheek, but Jace moved out of the way just in time for Jake to crash into the table, causing wine to spill everywhere.

Char stood, but Grandma pushed her down into her seat and whispered. “Oh, honey, just enjoy it. Positively lovely entertainment. Let them fight.” She winked and began playing with the pearl necklace around her neck.

“Jake!” Wescott yelled. “Stop!”

With a curse, Travis rose from the table and marched over to where Jake had fallen and was now staggering to his feet. He caught him just as Jake lunged again for Jace.

“Stop,” Travis said in a steely tone. “I mean it, Jake.” He pushed against Jake’s chest. “For once in your life, let it go.”

“But—” Jake’s face twisted in agony as he looked at the shocked faces around the table. Char’s stomach clenched when his eyes pleaded with hers. What was she supposed to say? Ashamed, she looked down at her plate, and heard Jake curse and walk away.

“So that was fun.” Kacey laughed nervously. Everyone else joined in. Jace regained his seat next to Char and straightened his tie.

“Sorry about that.” He lifted a napkin to his bloodied lip and winced. “The guy sure can pack a punch.”

“He trains.” Wescott poured himself another glass of wine. “Every day.”

“Trains?” Char asked. “What do you mean, trains?”

Bets patted Wescott on the back and gave Char a shaky grin. “Boxing, dear. He’s a boxer.”

“Probably needs some sort of fight training considering how many women he’s scorned.” Travis said from one end of the table.