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Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me

Page 73

by Jennifer Crusie


  Silence settled over the apartment.

  “I’ll never forget my first time with you,” Min said as she edged the doughnut off her finger. “The earth moved, and then my mother asked my father who he was going down on at lunch.”

  “Yes, there were some moments there,” Cal said.

  Min shook her head. “We’re never going to be rid of those people.”

  “I know,” Cal said.

  “Thank God we have each other.” Min looked up at him. “I love you.”

  “Thank you,” Cal said and kissed her.

  “So I’m buying a house,” Min said when she came up for air. “How do you feel about an Arts and Crafts bungalow like my grandma used to live in?”

  “Are you in it?” Cal said.

  Min nodded.

  “I’m there,” Cal said. “Can we go back to bed now?”

  “Yes,” Min said. “Bring the doughnuts.”

  An hour and a half later, Min lay curled beside Cal with Elvis asleep at the foot of the bed, looking like rusty velvet on the lavender blue satin. Cal was breathing almost loudly enough to be called snoring, and she patted his shoulder. A month ago, I didn’t know him, she thought dreamily. And now he’s the rest of my life.

  Then she pulled back a little. That sounded ridiculous. Completely irrational, in fact. Screw rationality, she thought, but the thought didn’t go away. You’d have to be insane to pin the rest of your life on somebody you’d only known a month, especially somebody with a past like Cal’s.

  She slid out from under his arm, and picked up his shirt from the floor. When she put it on, it failed to meet in the middle over her chest. That always works in the movies, she thought, disgusted, and dropped it on the floor. Instead, she pulled the comforter off the bed, annoying Elvis but leaving Cal asleep under the sheet. It was June. He wasn’t going to freeze.

  Then she went out and sat on her grandmother’s couch, wrapped in her comforter, and tried to make sense of everything. Elvis padded out to join her and curled up on the back of the couch, and she moved her head a little bit to rub against him and make him purr.

  So, she thought, essentially what we have here is that I’m looking at the biggest player in town and thinking he’s True Love That Will Last Forever. What are the odds on that? Across from her, the clock on the mantel clicked as the hands hit midnight.

  “Hey,” Cal said, and she looked up to see him in the doorway, stifling a yawn. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s midnight,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “I’m turning back into a pumpkin.”

  “That explains the couch,” he said and came to sit beside her. He put his arm around her and pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead, and she closed her eyes and leaned into him, loving him so much she was weak with it. I’m in big trouble here, she thought.

  “Something wrong?” he said. “I thought everything was pretty much perfect once the loons left.”

  “It is,” she said. “I’m just trying to figure out what’s next.”

  “Next.” Cal nodded. “Okay. Well.” He took her hand and yawned again. “Tomorrow, I’ll call my mother so she doesn’t put a curse on us, and we’ll go have dinner with your parents and make sure they’re not still nuts.”

  “There’s a hope,” Min said. The comforter slipped down over her shoulder, and Cal put his hand there, making lazy circles on her skin with his fingertips as he talked.

  “And then we’ll go looking for that house you were talking about, one with only six steps up from the street.” He shifted a little to avoid a spring and added, “And we’ll get a new couch.”

  Min felt herself start to smile, the happiness bubbling up in spite of the odds, and he held her tighter. “And then we’ll get married, and we’ll live happily ever after.”

  Min went cold as he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “Yeah. That’s the part I’m wondering about.”

  Cal’s hand tightened on hers. “You think we’re going to have problems?”

  “I don’t know,” Min said, looking into his eyes. “I think we’re going to love each other till the day we die, but I don’t know if that’s enough. Life is not a fairy tale.”

  “Okay,” Cal said. “It’s midnight, I’ve had a very full evening, and I’m a little slow here. What are you worried about?”

  “The happily ever after,” Min said, knowing she was sounding like an idiot. “All the stuff we just did, the romance part, the fairy tale stuff, I know how that works, I read the stories.”

  “Fairy tale stuff?”

  “But they don’t tell you about the happily ever after. And as far as I can see, that’s where it all breaks down. Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce, and yes, I know those statistics are skewed by repeat divorcers—”

  “It’s midnight, and I’m listening to statistics,” Cal said to the cat.

  “—but I’m worried. There aren’t any happily ever after stories. That’s where it ends. Where the hard part starts.”

  “All right,” Cal said. “So?”

  “So,” Min said, meeting his eyes. “What are we going to do?”

  “You want me to be philosophic about the future now?” Cal said. “I’m not even sure where I left my pants.”

  Min looked at him for a moment, loving him in spite of the fact that he had bed hair and was making jokes and wasn’t helping. In spite of everything, she thought and smiled at him. “No.” She clutched the comforter around her. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Let’s go back to bed.”

  “We’re going to take it one day at a time,” Cal said, holding on to her. “I don’t know anything about this, either, I didn’t plan for this, but I think we just stick together. Take care of each other. Pat each other on the back when things get tight.” When she still looked unsure, he smiled at her with so much love in his eyes that she went dizzy, and then he said, “Bet you ten bucks we make it.”

  What are the odds? she thought, and realized with sudden, blinding clarity that she wouldn’t take the other side of that bet, that only a loser would bet against them. This is really it, she thought, amazed. This is really forever. I believe in this.

  “Min?” he said, and she kissed him, putting all her heart into it.

  “No bet,” she said against his mouth. “Your odds are too good.”

  “Our odds are too good,” he said, and took her back to bed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  In case you were wondering . . .

  David got over Min pretty quickly, although the fact that Cal won bothered him for years. Four months later, he met a woman who agreed with everything he said and slept with him on the third date. They were married six months later. She never cooks with butter.

  Cyn took longer to get over Cal because she really did love him. She holed up in her apartment, subsisting on carrots and nonfat ranch dressing, until Liza dragged her out into the sun, made her write about her breakup, and called in a favor from one of her many former bosses to get the book to another editor. The editor, a guy with glasses who was two inches shorter than Cynthie and slightly overweight, made her rewrite it four times and then threw all the promotional power of his publishing house behind it. He married Cynthie the day before the book hit number one on the NYT list. They have a penthouse in New York and eat only in the very best restaurants.

  Emilio let Liza tell him what to do and within the year Emilio’s was the hottest restaurant in town. He offered her a partnership if she stayed, but things were running well and she was bored, so she introduced him to a friend of hers with an MBA in management and left to go save somebody else.

  George stopped taking his overworked secretary to lunch, for which she was grateful even though she missed the expensive food. He now has lunch with Nanette three times a week. She eats.

  Reynolds spends so much time with Min, Cal, and Bink on social occasions that, given their willingness to say, “Reynolds, you’re being a butthead,” he has stopped being a butthead when he’s with th
em. At all other times, he continues being a butthead. Bink loves him anyway.

  Shanna and Linda parted company after a year with no hard feelings. Shortly after that, Shanna went to work for Emilio, where she met the MBA who, it turned out, adored Elvis Costello. Four months later they moved into a lavish loft in the city, and a year later they went to China and adopted a little girl. Shanna is a stay-at-home mom except when Emilio gets swamped and needs the help. Her Betty Boop cookie jar always has Oreos.

  Harry got a growth spurt at fourteen, shot up and filled out and became a carbon copy of his father and uncle, except that his hair still flops over his forehead and he still wears glasses. He became an ichthyologist, met a zaftig girl on a dive in the Bahamas, fell in love, and married her a month later. She has brown hair with gold highlights, a logical mind, and a penchant for shoes. He still can’t eat more than one doughnut.

  Roger and Bonnie got married, moved to the suburbs, and had four kids. Everybody goes to their house for the holidays.

  Diana got engaged twice more and broke off both engagements, crying in Tony’s arms each time. He told her she had lousy taste in men and to try picking a good one next time, so she proposed to him. He said no, appalled. Six weeks later they eloped to Kentucky because Tony had tickets for the Derby. They have three kids, all big-boned, beautiful girls who dominate whatever field or court they play on, probably because they eat carbs.

  Liza continues to have an exciting, varied, constantly changing life that is much too complicated to synopsize here.

  Cal bought Min an engagement ring made of six perfect diamonds set in a circle. It looks nothing like a Krispy Kreme, but Min knows. They got married and bought an Arts and Crafts bungalow one block from Min’s apartment. It has thirty-seven steps up from the street. They also bought a mission couch like Bonnie’s, and occasionally somebody gets tied to it. They go to the If Dinner at Emilio’s every Thursday night with Roger and Bonnie and Tony and Diana and Liza and whomever Liza’s seeing that week. His mother tolerates her. Her mother adores him. They don’t have kids, but they did get a black lab mix puppy from the pound that they named The Beast. Elvis is coping.

  They all lived happily ever after.

  ALSO BY JENNIFER CRUSIE

  Bet Me

  Faking It

  Fast Women

  Welcome to Temptation

  Crazy for You

  Tell Me Lies

  Praise for New York Times bestselling author Jennifer Crusie and her novels

  Bet Me

  “Bet Me is one of Crusie’s best . . . fans of women’s fiction: If you haven’t discovered Jennifer Crusie yet, get ready for a good time. Crusie is smart and literate . . . and a master of fast-paced, witty dialogue.”

  —The Seattle Times

  “Few popular writers handle light romantic comedy as deftly as Jennifer Crusie.”

  —Boston Globe

  “A sassy and entertaining modern-day romance filled with witty sarcasm and snappy repartees. Bet Me has it all: laugh-out-loud lines, novel characters, and a torch-hot ending.”

  —Rocky Mountain News

  “With multiple references to Chicken Marsala, Krispy Kreme donuts, and Midwestern brats . . . Crusie’s latest should delight romance readers with a penchant for sinful foods.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “New York Times bestselling Crusie maintains her winning streak in another wickedly witty, deliciously sexy contemporary romance. Finding exactly the right balance between cynicism and optimism, Crusie deftly blends snappy dialogue; quirky, irrepressible secondary characters; and two beautifully matched protagonists struggling against their romantic fate.”

  —Booklist

  “Utilizing her own unique brand of humor and panache, Crusie delivers yet another amazingly fun and funny novel. Eccentric characters abound in this book, making each new situation slightly offbeat, touching, and always hilarious.”

  —Romantic Times

  “A sure bet . . . Jennifer Crusie’s rollicking romance hits the jackpot.”

  —BookPage

  “A cast of immensely appealing characters and smart dialogue . . . enthusiastically recommended.”

  —Library Journal

  “Crusie has another hit on her hands with this romantic comedy, a novel in the madcap vein of the films of George Cukor and Billy Wilder—updated with plenty of modern-day spice. Witty, sharp, and wickedly funny, Bet Me is eminently satisfying.”

  —Book Sense

  “The incomparable Crusie skillfully uses humor to gain insight into her characters’ foibles and insecurities . . . a fun, sexy tale not to be missed.”

  —Old Book Barn Gazette

  “This story is solid gold! As much as I enjoyed this author’s previous books, this one is the best yet! There is no doubt in my mind that it will hit the bestsellers list AND win awards. Yes, it IS that good! Jennifer Crusie, you deserve a standing ovation for this little gem. Highly recommended!”

  —Huntress Reviews

  Faking It

  “Art, orgasms, identities, affection. If it can be faked, the characters in Crusie’s snappy new novel will do it . . . Crusie has a gift for concocting nutty scenarios and witty one-liners . . . genuine laughs.”

  —People

  “A funny, fast-moving, densely plotted comedy/caper. Crusie clearly has studied vintage screwball film comedies. Faking It is an unabashed homage to such classics as The Philadelphia Story and His Girl Friday. The dialogue, which is peppered with movie references, is arch and smart-alecky, and moves the story at a rattling pace.”

  —Boston Globe

  “Hard to resist . . . [a] roller-coaster ride . . . perfect escapist fare!”

  —Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

  “Bestseller Crusie takes readers on another smooth ride in her latest romantic caper . . . the whole Goodnight clan and supporting cast are enormously engaging.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “The action is fast, the characters are quirky and the one-liners never stop . . . fast-paced and sexy . . . should solidify Crusie’s place in the big leagues of women’s fiction.”

  —The Columbus Dispatch

  “A smart, sexy story of intrigue, seduction, blackmail, and art forgery that will have readers laughing out loud and racing through its pages.”

  —Sullivan County Democrat

  “Delightful . . . could be likened to skinny-dipping in a cool pond on a muggy, hot summer afternoon: risqué, yes—maybe even a little kinky—but, oh, so refreshing.”

  —Roanoke Times

  “One of the brightest stars in romantic comedy delivers her sequel to the very popular Welcome to Temptation.”

  —DallasNews.com

  “A hoot. Oh, go ahead. Indulge.”

  —Entertainment Weekly

  “Crusie’s madcap tale of stolen art and mayhem contains more laugh-out-loud lusty living than a sudsy-bubble Oktoberfest.”

  —BookPage

  “Crusie’s talent [is] for writing wacky romantic plots that shine with generous amounts of humor and enormous good cheer.”

  —Library Journal

  “This laugh-out-loud romp is one to treasure! Nobody combines wit, irony, and sexy, sizzling plots better than Jennifer Crusie.”

  —Romantic Times

  “This sassy novel is hilarious!”

  —Walden Book Report

  “Faking It is a hilarious, warm novel with a cast of quirky and wonderful characters that endear while they charm.”

  —Amazon.com

  “Crusie’s fifth novel is an entertaining, fast-paced romp with a pleasing love story at its heart.”

  —Booklist

  “These bantering anti-heroes are clearly made for each other, and the way that they get back at their tormentor is as refreshing as a mint julep in the summer heat.”

  —BookStreet USA

  “No one else writes like she does—not Romance, not Women’s Fiction, but her own distinct, ‘bent’ view of the world with its
Runyonesque characters and arch dialogue . . . the novel’s last fifty pages are simply divine.”

  —TheRomanceReader.com

  Fast Women

  “Fast Women is bright and fresh . . . it tells the complete truth about falling in love and the people who do it. Jennifer Crusie has written another wonderfully funny novel.”

  —Luanne Rice, author of Firefly Beach

  “A beach book for your brain . . . a sexy, intellectual read.”

  —Redbook

  “Aglow with the sparks of wit and romance. Move over, Susan Isaacs. Crusie is just as smart and sassy about the things a woman has to do to make love work, and a lot funnier to boot.”

  —Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

  “A detective agency may be a sure setting for mystery and adventure, but in Crusie’s latest, a likable cast of characters also finds sex, love, and empowerment . . . the novel’s provocative title says too little about this entertaining romantic caper which will satisfy fans and new readers alike.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Hilarious . . . Crusie’s great gift is her ability to make readers laugh at the inanities of life with her spunky women and strong yet compassionate men: Imagine a combination of Nick Charles from The Thin Man and the women of The First Wives Club.”

  —Booklist

  “With humor, irony, and a whole lot of wit, Jennifer Crusie straps in her readers and takes them on a memorable ride . . . a masterful storyteller.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Fast Women is her best work to date . . . a spectacular read you will no doubt savor more than once.”

  —newandusedbooks.com

  “An extraordinary romantic comedy . . . fascinating . . . hilarious situations, strong characters, and a powerful message.”

  —The Belles and Beaux of Romance

  “Wise and witty.”

  —TheRomanceReader.com

  “Absolutely hilarious . . . dialogue is witty and fast-paced . . . one of those stories you can read over and over without it getting stale.”

  —Affaire de Coeur

  “Perfect entertainment for a lazy summer afternoon.”

 

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