The Wager

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “Fine!” Jake yelled. “Have it your way!”

  Now was the time to panic. “Jake, we don’t have a stand for the topper. We can’t just let it ruin the cake.”

  Jake swore. “It either ruins the cake by falling through it, or by sitting on a stand that says ‘Tits Forever’.”

  Char covered her mouth with her hands and laughed. “To be fair we got sidetracked.”

  “You,” he pointed, “were a distraction. Had you not waltzed around me in high heels and short skirts, I would have built a damn topper.”

  “Right. So where’s your hammer?”

  At Jake’s guilty look, Char shot him a triumphant glare. “Wow, do you even know what a nail is?”

  He grinned shamelessly. “I think I’ve proven I can nail things.”

  “Holy crap, it’s a tie between me wanting to give you a high five or slap you.”

  “What happened to the whole naked option? That not on the table anymore?”

  “Negative.” Char threw on her shirt and stood. “That left the table the minute Grandma mentioned shock collars and alluded to male parts.”

  “Noted.” Jake winced. “Fine, let’s get this over with. Maybe nobody will notice?”

  “Right.” Char nodded. “And maybe Grandma and Mr. Casbon didn’t play Charades last night.”

  Jake flinched. “Arousal. Gone.”

  “Good.” Char held out her hand to him so he could help her down the ladder. “Because it would look all kinds of inappropriate if you looked horny while handing over that topper to the caterer.”

  Jake climbed down after her. “You always know the right thing to say.”

  “It’s why you married me.” Char grinned.

  Jake lifted her into his arms and carried her across the lawn. “Among other things.”

  “Put me down!”

  “Threshold.” Jake blew a kiss across her face. “I do things right.”

  “Except you don’t,” Char pointed out.

  “Some things,” he set her on her feet the minute they were in the kitchen, “I do right, like the important ones named Char. If you didn’t hear me after I said it about a billion times last night…” he pulled her flush against his body, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Her eyes welled up with tears just as another whistle blow assaulted the air.

  “Topper. On it.” Jake released her and ran down the hall.

  Chapter Fifty-six

  Jake tilted his head to the right and winced. “It looks fine, right?”

  Char was motionless next to him. He nudged her. “Right?”

  Her inability to speak and her all-around pinched expression didn’t make him feel better about what they had done. The caterers had come up with a brilliant plan; they kept extra icing around just in case some of the bows on the cake fell off. It was a black and white cake with white icing and black bows, simple, elegant, in Char’s words, “cute.” Luckily for them, easy enough to hide the word ‘Tits’.

  So now, it just said Forever.

  Only, it wasn’t centered correctly because well, you could tell there was supposed to be two words. Not one.

  “It’s fine.” Char finally said. “I can’t even see the Tits anymore.”

  Jake exhaled. “Really? No tits?”

  Grandma chose that exact moment to walk up. “What’s this I hear about tits?” She smacked Jake hard upside his head. “Are you able, for just five minutes, to stop thinking about sex and focus on something else?”

  Char kicked his shin, and he responded with a loud, “No, I just can’t help myself. I’m a—“ He sighed heavily, feeling his shoulders slump. “Lost cause. That’s what I am. Sorry Grandma, it won’t happen again, I’ll try harder.” He clenched his teeth and sent Char a seething glare.

  Grandma eyed both of them speculatively before she walked around the cake. “Something’s different.”

  “Outside.” Char blurted. “It’s because we’re outside, and the light, from the uh, the light from the particles in the air—“

  “—and sun!” Jake near shouted. “The sun makes the cake look…”

  “Beautiful!” Grandma clapped her hands together, making both Jake and Char sigh in unison. “Well done! I knew I could trust you two.”

  Jake closed his eyes and swore as Grandma clicked off. “We’re going to kill her; this is going to be it. If she finds out we did this…” He scratched his head. “She can’t find out. That’s it; I won’t be responsible for ruining the wedding.”

  Char grabbed his hands. “It’s fine! Nobody is ever going to see the Tits.”

  A male caterer walked by and whistled low.

  Jake called after him. “She doesn’t mean her tits, she means—”

  Char covered his mouth. “Let it go, just let it go.”

  Feeling her fingers against his lips, seeing her mouth so close, damn, he wasn’t focused on the wedding at all, he was focused on them, on her to be exact. Without a second thought, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back into the house.

  Grandma soon located them. “Hurry up! We have pictures in two hours and cocktails before the wedding at four!”

  “Yup!” Jake said in a strained voice as he continued pulling Char up the stairs. Finally, when they reached the bathroom, he slammed the door behind him, double-checked that he’d locked it, and turned on the shower.

  “Uh, what are you doing?”

  He shrugged off his shirt. “Taking a shower. The way I see it, we have to get ready at some point; might as well be now.”

  “But we have—” Char shook her head. “What am I saying? Why would I argue?”

  Jake laughed. “Now take off your clothes before I rip them.”

  “Say please.”

  “Hell no.” Jake pushed her against the counter and grabbed her head. “I don’t say please, but you can damn well say thank you.”

  “For what?” Char pushed against his chest.

  “You’ll see.” He bit down on his lip. “It’s more of a ‘thank you in advance, Jake Titus’…”

  “Not until you say please, Jake Titus.”

  “I like it when you say my full name.”

  Char reached for his pants and undid the buttons, slipping his jeans from his waist. “I can tell.”

  He groaned. “Fine, please.”

  “Louder.”

  “That’s my girl.” He took her mouth in for an aggressive kiss. “Please.”

  She pushed him away, this time hard enough for him to take a few steps back, but it was worth it. Damn, but it was worth it to see her strip in front of him. Would he never tire of the way she responded to him? The blush that stained her cheeks or the way her tight little body fit perfectly with his?

  “Open the door, son!” Wescott yelled. “I know you’re in there! Aunt Petunia saw you and, and…” His father swore. “Char, and son, it’s not right. Things gotta change around here; you can’t just go—” His mother said a few muffled words to his father. “As your mother says, just leave the poor girl alone, you’ve given her enough grief, what with—not now, Bets! I’m trying to have a talk with my son about his prodigal ways!”

  Jake leaned back against the wall, arms folded, waiting for the ball to drop.

  “Son!” His dad banged on the door again. “Not now, Bets! Can’t you see I’m busy? We can’t have him ruining Travis’s special day with his—”

  Everything went silent.

  And then there was a lot of sputtering, swearing, and God bless her, Grandma’s loud whistle.

  “ ’Bye, Dad!” Jake called.

  “Uh, Son.” And that was it.

  A scantily clad Char stared at Jake, her entire demeanor joyful. “So now that everyone knows we’re in here together you still want to—”

  He didn’t let her finish. Instead, he grabbed hold of her and pulled her into the shower, lingerie and all. He didn’t care; he’d buy her whatever the hell she wanted. But for now, he wanted her exactly as she was: water dripping slowly down her body, and his
, all his. Damn if he even cared his own father knew he had fallen in love and was taking a shower with his wife. Hell, he’d post it on Facebook, he’d call Good Morning America. In fact that wasn’t a bad idea. He wanted everyone to know he was taken—because it had taken a remarkable girl to finally get him to understand what he’d been missing this entire time.

  She wasn’t just his other half, or his soul mate; those words, in his mind, seemed like the type of thing guys told girls when they were trying to be romantic or were trying to get laid.

  No, maybe he really was losing it, but as he touched her, tasted her, felt her—he realized it wasn’t just someone completing him, it was the added compliment of having her near. He hadn’t known what he was missing until he’d experienced Char as a whole person, and now that he knew, he realized one thing: he’d die before letting her go. She was a partner in crime, a best friend, a lover, a fighter, and she was all his.

  Chapter Fifty-seven

  Well, showering would never be the same. In fact, Char was convinced that in the near future every time she heard water running she was going to have a hell of a time keeping a smile from her face. Those lips, those hands, blessed Lord those hands—really, Jake should give lessons on how to use what God had given him. Damn, how he used what he had.

  Buzzing; her body was actually still vibrating from the sensation of his hands on her hips, her butt, and then how it felt when he slid her wet body over his in the shower. Feeling flushed, she began to fan herself as she made her way over to the cocktails. Her makeup was going to melt if she kept at it.

  As it was she wanted to look her best for the stupid fertility dance Grandma had planned, not to mention that she was going to be dancing with Jake and she wanted to look good for him.

  Just as she rounded the corner to the cocktails Grandma intercepted her and led her down to her bedroom.

  “What are you doing?” Char asked as Grandma’s hand gave another little tug until they were in her bedroom. Without a word, Grandma closed the door and quickly turned.

  “You look like hell.”

  “Uh, thank you?” Char said, looking down at the ugly bridesmaid’s dress Kacey had picked out. Apparently, Kacey hadn’t picked them out at all, but Bets, wanting a part in helping Kacey plan, had designed them herself. Thus, the autumn puke she was now wearing that also made her look fifty pounds heavier than she was.

  Grandma let out a heavy sigh and rested her hand on her cheek as she eyed Char’s outfit. “This will not do. After all, you were never given the chance to wear a wedding gown.”

  “I wonder whose fault that is.” Char’s eyebrows lifted.

  Grandma shrugged and waved her off. It was obvious she was still playing the innocent card. “At any rate, a woman is always prepared.” She walked over to her closet and pulled open the doors. After mumbling to herself and rummaging through what could only be described as an unhealthy amount of leopard jumpsuits, she lifted a garment bag from the line up. “This is for you.”

  At Char’s hesitation, Grandma tsked and laid the garment bag down on the bed. The sound of the zipper being pulled down was almost unnerving.

  “Go ahead.” Grandma stepped back. “Look inside.”

  Almost afraid to look, Char licked her lips and then reached inside the garment bag and pulled out the dress.

  The dress.

  The one from the store.

  “But it’s not my wedding!” Char sputtered.

  “Details.” Grandma waved. “Kacey was more than thrilled to have her best friend in something that resembled a dress rather than a pregnant pumpkin. Now, let’s get this thing on so we can put my grandson into cardiac arrest.”

  “But—”

  “You don’t like it?” Grandma touched the dress in Char’s hands and sighed. “I thought that day at the store—”

  “No.” Char felt tears burning at the backs of her eyes. “It’s not that. It’s just that I feel like I’m living a fairy tale.” She also felt like she didn’t deserve it, any of it.

  “Dear Lord, we’re in trouble if Jake is Prince Charming,” Grandma grumbled. “He still has his work cut out for him, starting with that dance you two need to perform, and giving me grandchildren. You are going to give me great-grandchildren, aren’t you?”

  Char felt her cheeks heat as she looked away and rocked back on her heels. “Already working on it.”

  “That’s my girl.” Grandma patted her hand and then tightened her grip on Char’s wrists. “And don’t you even think about using a condom. I used a needle on every single last one in this house. I expect a baby by spring.”

  Mouth agape, Char stared and then felt her cheeks heat. “We’ll, uh, see what we can do.” Only Grandma would think ahead to plan such a thing.

  “Good girl.” Grandma stepped back. “I’ve been praying for your womb to be fertile, you know.” She smiled to herself. “Now take off your clothes.” So many wrong words in that sentence that Char fidgeted a bit before turning around so Grandma could unzip the travesty that was her dress.

  Once it was off, it dropped to the floor. Char stepped out of it and squinted. The dress was white, her lingerie was black.

  “Oh, almost forgot.” Grandma held up her hand and went to a Nordstrom bag on the floor, pulling out a white corset, matching thong, and thigh highs. Good Lord, how did she even know Char’s size?

  “Asked Jake.” Grandma offered. “He seemed to know the exact size of your hips, imagine that? And your breasts—well, let’s just say I had to blow my whistle several times before he was able to focus again. That boy is truly distracted too easily. It’s my fault. His grandfather was always a breast man.” Grandma thrust her chest forward a bit. “At any rate, go ahead and put this on and I’ll help you with your dress.”

  Char paused. Did Grandma really want her to get naked?

  “If you go any slower I may be dead before I see my grandchildren. Believe me, you don’t possess anything I’ve never seen before. Well, maybe I haven’t seen it in a while; my mirror points south a bit these days.”

  Laughing, Char took the lingerie from Grandma and put it on the bed, then stripped down to what God gave her.

  Grandma sighed.

  “What?” Char paused as she grabbed the corset.

  “Nothing.” Grandma waved. “It’s just that, I don’t believe Jake will make it through the ceremony. Don’t you dare allow him to ravish you early, Char! You hear me? God frowns on those things.”

  “Uh.” Char put on the corset. “What? Married people ravishing each other?”

  “ ’Course not.” Grandma gave her a scolding look. “God just don’t like to see pretty things go to waste is all, and you my dear, will be spectacular. So, let him take his fill, before you give him his drink, you understand?”

  Char’s grin was huge. “Completely.”

  Grandma grunted.

  Ten minutes later, Char was dressed in the most beautiful silk gown she’d ever seen in her entire life. Grandma hadn’t stopped at the lingerie. Nope, she’d also bought Char tall crystal heels that made Char look like a supermodel. Bless Grandma’s manipulative little heart.

  Char turned and examined herself in the mirror.

  Grandma stood behind her beaming. “Give him hell.”

  Chapter Fifty-eight

  Jake took a long sip of his whiskey on the rocks and winced as the liquid poured down his throat. The heat was intense; it didn’t help that he was wearing a black suit, with suspenders. At least his suit wasn’t as bad as Char’s dress. The poor thing had looked miserable when she went off to get dressed with Kacey and the rest of the girls.

  He took another slow swallow and grimaced when Jace made his way toward him.

  “So.” Jace ordered a tequila shot and downed it with a wince. “How are things?”

  “Ah, small talk.” Jake laughed. “Great. How’s your eye?”

  “It feels like hell, thanks.” Jace shook his head.

  Jake looked beyond him for Char. Where was she? They were
supposed to meet a half hour ago. He grabbed Travis’s arm as he walked by. “Have you seen my wife?”

  “Nope.” Travis shrugged and then laughed. “Wife, Shit, I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Petunia walked by just as Travis cursed, earning him a smack in the back of the head and a scolding. He put his arm around Petunia, apologized, and ordered two shots of whiskey behind her back. Ah, it seemed all the apples from Grandma’s tree were firmly planted side by side.

  “Wife?” Jace said. “You have a wife? What about Char?”

  Jake couldn’t hide his smile. “Long story, but Grandma accidentally married us.” He held up fake quotations.

  “Lucky bastard.”

  Jake grinned wider. “Guilty.” His eyes scanned the outdoor patio one last time and then fell on a girl in a white dress. He kept scanning, and then looked back at the girl.

  It was his wife.

  It was Char.

  She was wearing the dress from the store. He couldn’t pull his eyes away; heat seared every part of his body.

  “Fight you for her?” Jace whispered.

  “Already won.” Jake moved past him and stalked toward his bride—his wife. He wanted to kiss her so bad, but it would ruin the perfect picture he was staring at. Her hair was pulled back into a low bun with pieces falling around her face. And she was taller, somehow, maybe high heels; he couldn’t really think at the moment. With a bright smile, she only had eyes for him.

  Thank God.

  “I can’t kiss you.” He said once he reached her. “It will ruin your makeup.”

  “It’s okay.” Char leaned in closer, allowing him access to her hips as his hands slid over the slick silk of the dress. “A wise woman once told me that you needed a good ruin… maybe it can be me.”

  Jake could have sworn he heard Grandma chuckling somewhere; instead, he kissed his wife, his bride and lifted her into the air, twirling her around.

  “You’re married!” Someone screamed.

  Jake placed Char back onto her feet and turned. A young woman with curly blond hair was running toward them, arms flailing. It was Beth, Char’s sister.

  Char squealed and clapped her hands as Beth flung herself into Char’s arms and cried. “I can’t believe it! I can’t believe you’re married. When Grandma called me a few days ago—”