Текст книги "The Dare"

Автор книги: Rachel Van Dyken

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Damn.

I was eating her crumbs.

So was Jace.

"ID?" Grandma snapped.

I pulled my driver's license out of my purse and handed it over.

Jace rubbed his face with his hands.

"It seems the only seats we have next to one another that are available are in the back of the plane."

The ticket lady's pinched expression gave me the impression that they were bad seats.

"We'll take them," Grandma announced. "And I'll take first class with the honeymooners."

I wasn't really sure what was so bad about the back of the plane. I looked to Jace for help, but he was busy scrolling through text messages like someone who'd just taken a shot of espresso and didn't know how to handle the jolt of adrenaline that followed.

"Thank you, Ilene. As always you're so helpful." Grandma patted the lady's hand and smiled.

"Do you know everyone?" I whispered so only Grandma could hear.

"Oh, honey," Grandma handed me my ticket, "what's the use in doing the Lord's work if you don't have the connections needed to pull it off?"

Sound logic. Damn her.

"Yoohoo!" Grandma called and then whistled.

I winced. Travis cursed. Jake shook his head and seemed to be speaking in a different language, and Kacey just laughed.

"It's time to go through security." She turned her attention to Jake. "Son, hide your drugs."

"What?" His eyes widened.

"Kidding." Grandma pinched Jake's cheek and let out a giggle.

Nobody joined in. That shit could get you arrested.

"Sense of humor!" Grandma slapped her leg and laughed again. "Oh sometimes I just kill myself."

"I've tried," Travis grumbled. "No cockblocking."

Did he really just say that? Out loud? To his grandmother.

Embarrassed, I looked away. Who spoke to an elderly woman like that? Did she even know what that meant?

"Sweetie," Grandma dug through her purse and pulled out a tube of red lipstick, "I'm already finished with you. You can have all the sex you want. You too, Jake."

The last time my face had felt this red was when I was in the sixth grade and accidently tucked my skirt into my tights.

"Uh, thanks?" Jake answered.

"Besides, I'm finished with you two. My work is done. Now your wives can continue in my footsteps. Actually, that's not true. If I don't see great-grandchildren in a year, I may have to re-evaluate my five-year plan. At any rate. My eyes or the eye of Sauron—"

"Ah, Lord Of The Rings' quotes… of course," Travis interjected and pointed a finger at Jake. "That's what you get for making her watch all the movies after the wedding. You get an eighty-six-year-old woman thinking she has some sort of wizardly magic."

"As I was saying, the Eye is on these two."

Grandma pointed in my direction, and I could have sworn I felt the laser beam from her polished nail.

I stepped behind a very pale Jace, hoping that the whole finger-pointing magic would drain directly into him and leave me the hell alone.

I peeked around him, only to find both Titus brothers giving Jace knowing grins.

"Word of advice." Travis walked up to Jace and slapped him on the shoulder. "Don't drink it if it tastes funny."

"Also," Jake chimed in, "the law doesn't apply to her. So if you call the cops, know it will probably be you behind bars before it will be her."

"She likes Benadryl," Kacey added.

"And she will win." Char nodded.

"This game isn't about skill." Jake put his arm around Char. "It's about knowing when to admit you've failed."

"And failure?" Travis laughed. "To that one?" He pointed to a silent-yet-smiling Grandma. "Isn't an option."

"Best bet." Jake sighed heavily. "Put all your chips on the table."

"And then what?" I asked, curiosity killing me from the inside out.

"Oh that." Travis grinned. "You still lose. But at least by putting it all out there ahead of time, you know what you're losing."

"And what's that?" Jace spoke for the first time since getting his ticket. "A shitload of money?"

"Nah," Jake answered for Travis. "Something a lot more valuable."

"The question," Grandma piped up as she strolled toward security, "is never what you lose. But if you care that you're losing it in the first place."

"I think you've all lost your damn minds," Jace said, his voice hoarse. His panic-stricken eyes found mine as he rubbed the back of his head and cursed.

Chapter Six

"I'd rather not make a bet with a convicted felon."

"Convicted?" Grandma gasped. "Bite your tongue! I'm just visiting until this little misunderstanding is over."

"I wouldn't call a white van with no license plates, a ransom note, and enough rufies to put out a gorilla a…" he put up his fingers in air quotes, "misunderstanding."

"Call it whatever you want. But I'm innocent."

"And I'm Charlie Sheen."

"I knew you looked familiar!" Grandma giggled. "Tell me, how's that sexy father of yours?"

Jace

The first thing I thought of when I got on the plane was alcohol. The second? All the sex I wasn't having that the media was convinced I was. Funny, because at this point,if I was engaging in said extra-curriculars with prostitutes, I sure as hell wouldn't be so dumb about it.

The only evidence they had was a scorned ex-girlfriend and Beth showing up at the airport with me. My publicist had sent me a text and said not to worry – as far as everyone's concerned, I've been meaning to take a vacation. All they'd needed to do was explain I was at a wedding and catching up with an old friend. An old friend that I hadn't seen in over ten years and had seduced right out of her bridesmaid dress. Funny, because I doubted anyone but Beth and I really knew that we'd met before. And even then, why was I vain enough to believe that, out of all the guys Beth most likely had had pawning over her in high school, that I'd be the one kiss she'd remembered.

I groaned. The truth was… I had been holding on by a thread already. I'd worked my ass off to get where I was, and it terrified me to think that it could all be taken away. I'd graduated from college early. Completed my masters in less than a year. Studied through endless nights. Spent millions of my trust fund on campaigning, and for what? For people to wait for me to fail? And then throw me out of office onto my face? All because they believed a woman who had… my heart clenched. I could still smell the house.

I'd come home from a meeting in DC.

A fire had been lit in the downstairs, and I could smell a roast and potatoes cooking in the oven.

I'd taken the stairs two at a time. Eager to see Kerry, to hold her in my arms and forget about life for just a few minutes. Really, that's all I ever asked of her. I'd used her to relax and, in return, she'd looked good on my arm.

My time was precious. After dating awhile, we'd joked around that two minutes was like me handing her hundreds of dollars.

To me, time was the most valuable thing we had as humans. I wanted to make the most of every moment.

Maybe I shouldn't have.

Because if I hadn't taken two steps at a time.

If I hadn't come home early.

My life would be different. Granted, I'd be living in ignorance, but still. I wouldn't be carrying around scars, and I wouldn't want to run the other way every time a woman smiled at me.

I cleared my throat and snuck a look at Beth. She was reading People Magazine.

What did I really know about her? Good kisser. Nice ass. And a hell of a laugh. Unless she'd somehow turned into a chain smoker, causing her laugh to sound more like a hack. But that was it. For all I knew, she really had been a prostitute at some point in her life. Maybe she had dirty little secrets just waiting to pop out. Who didn't? Furthermore, how else did she put herself through med school? I didn't say my logic was sound, but I was also under an extreme amount of stress, which is probably why, as the plane took off, I blurted out, "Are you a prostitute?"

Unfortunately, when they seat you at the back of the plane, what they really mean is they're seating you next to all the crying and screaming kids that nobody else wants near first class, where Grandma and everyone else was drinking and laughing.

If I breathed hard enough, I could imagine that the shit I was smelling wasn't from the little kid in front of me, but some sort of —.oh, who was I kidding? I was in hell. And I had five whole hours to wallow.

A few parents turned angry eyes in my direction. I was too tired to care. So what? I'd said prostitute.

"Prostitute?" Beth repeated, louder than I'd initially said it. "And just how did you come to that conclusion Mr. Senator?"

"Okay, if you keep calling me that, I'm going to start calling you cookie monster, and we both know how you feel about that."

"Bastard."

"I'll take it. Anything's better than Mr. Senator."

Beth rolled her eyes and looked back at her magazine.

"Are you going to answer my question, or do you want me to see if the flight attendant has any cookies?"

"Do I look like a prostitute?" Beth snapped.

"Well..." If I said she did, that basically meant I was calling her slutty, and if I said she didn't, I had an inkling she'd take that as me saying she wasn't attractive enough to be one. Maybe I was overthinking things a bit. I tugged at the collar of my shirt,. "No."

"Exactly." Beth's face fell, just enough for me to notice. She turned away and looked down at her magazine but didn't turn the page. Because she wasn't reading or looking, she was hurt. Somehow me insulting her had turned into me hurting her, and I hated hurting people, especially ones who didn't deserve it.

"Look," I closed her magazine and whispered in her hear, "I'm not saying you couldn't be one if you wanted to be. You're sexy, alright? I'm not asking because I'm trying to insult you, and I'm not trying to be a complete asshole. I just need to know about your past. If you have any dirty secrets, if you as much as sneezed on your high school teacher and accidently fell over and exposed your pink underwear to a punk in your class and got a detention for sexual harassment. I need to know these things. Because they won't just attack me, they'll attack you too."

Beth's lower lip trembled.

I was fascinated. I hadn't ever been a lip guy. I was more of a full package type of man. But her lips looked like soft pillows, and I hated myself that I couldn't remember the sensation of my tongue parting them last night.

"Well, no worries on that end, Jace." Beth's voice shook a bit. "In high school my nickname was Boring Beth. I had exactly three friends, including the lab rat that I had to train for my AP psychology class and was a pity date for my senior prom. So, sexual harassment? Prostitution? Selling my body or my wares or whatever you call it? Nothing. Not even a freaking parking ticket. Or a speeding ticket for that matter."

What? How was that even possible? She was freaking gorgeous, and even in high school I'd been intimidated.

I shifted uncomfortably and tried to open my mouth to speak, but she kept talking. Was she talking about the same girl I danced with all those years ago?

"In college I made out with two guys. One was a McDonalds' employee. He smelled like fries. I hate fries."

Mental note: She hates fries. Who the hell hates fries?

"The other had a preference for garlic. He said it kept the vampires away. As you can see, I only dated nerds because, news flash, I am a nerd. I'm a chemist. I like safe. I like white walls. I drink wine and watch Netflix on the weekends, and I already have my eye on two cats to at the shelter. I may as well settle into spinsterhood early. Now can we please stop having this discussion? It was embarrassing enough waking up without no memory of my first time with a guy let alone…"

I tried not to react. My loud inhale mixed with a gasp probably didn't do well to shield my shock.

"Just forget it." Beth opened the magazine.

"Beth, look," I licked my lips, "I didn't know. I mean, I didn't..." Well shit. How in the hell was I going to get out of this one? Or make it better. I did the only thing I could think of doing or maybe it was for lack of thinking that I pulled the magazine out of her hands and pressed my mouth against hers.

Again, let's revisit the situation. Being under severe amounts of stress can cause a person to make bad choices. Clearly. Because kissing her was probably the worst idea I'd had in the last hour. But she'd looked sad, and she'd basically just told me that she'd given me her virginity, and then her green eyes had gotten all glossy with tears, and I'd panicked. Yes, I, Jace Brevik, US senator, panicked in the face of a woman almost crying.

Her lips were just as soft as I remembered. I coaxed them open and moaned as her tongue shyly touched mine.

"Are you married?" a squeaky voice asked.

I pulled back and glanced up. A girl who looked to be about eight was hanging over the seat in front of us, staring. Her pigtails bobbed on the side of her head as the plane hit a bump of turbulence.

"No," I said, eyes narrowing, body still pounding with lust. I was kissing a complete stranger. Kind of. Well, not really. Damn it.

"My mommy says that boys and girls should only kiss when they're married."

"You're mommy's living under a rock," I grumbled.

"No, she's right here." The girl pulled back and then shrugged. "She's sleeping. Sometimes she puts special juice in my cup so she can sleep on the planes."

"I want special juice," Beth said under her breath.

The girl giggled but still didn't turn back around. And I was left to wonder how a soccer mom had been able to sneak alcohol by security. Why hadn't I thought of that?

The girl kept staring.

To be honest, it was freaking me out. Don't get me wrong. I liked kids. I patted their heads and kissed their cheeks during photo-ops, but in my mind there was nothing freakier than a horror movie with a little girl in it. It gave me the creeps.

And this little girl looked exactly like one who could star in her own horror movie.

Clearing my throat, I tried to look away, because the longer she stared the more I was convince she was going to take the plane down with her. In a moment of clarity, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a piece of wrapped candy and held it out to her. "Want some candy?"

"Stranger danger, nine-one-one, stranger danger, nine-one-one!" the girl started wailing.

"Just a guess," Beth said, an amused smile plastered across her pretty face. "But I'm gonna bet her mommy also told her anyone who offered candy was living in an unmarked van down by the river."

Within seconds, mama bear turned around and glared at both me and Beth. I held up the candy like a white flag, hoping the woman wouldn't slap me, or worse assume I was really going to take her daughter. Masking tape her mouth? Possibly. Kidnap? Hell no.

"You give my daughter candy?" she asked in a gruff voice.

"I was trying to be nice." I gave her my best politician smile.

"Be nice to someone else. We're all full here, and if you offer her candy again, I'm voting Republican next term."

"Nice." Beth chuckled once the woman turned around.

"What?"

"She knew you! Yay! Another vote in your favor." She held up her hand for a high five. I glared.

And that was it.

Note to self: Life isn't like the movies, and Beth isn't like any other girl I've ever met.

I'd just had my tongue in her mouth, and we weren't sitting there having a conversation about what it meant for our new relationship. She wasn't doodling my name on her magazine. There were no birds chirping above her head, and no, Celine Dion did not start playing randomly throughout the plane. Instead, she was acting like she had amnesia.

She was acting like she didn't care that I'd just kissed her.

What did it mean? Why the hell had I kissed her? Did that mean we were sharing a room? Was I dating? I didn't date! I tugged at the collar of my shirt again and gasped for more air.

Holy shit.

Not only was I following in Jake's footsteps.

But I'd turned into a woman.

I half-expected birds to start chirping around my head as cheerleaders danced down the aisle with tampons.

Because for the next hour all I could think about was not putting my arm on the armrest for fear that it would brush against hers and she'd think I was doing it on purpose.

And then I was too nervous to drink soda, because then I'd have to piss, and I'd walk by her, and she'd see that I was sweating.

I was losing my cool.

And my entire career was based on the very principle that I could be cool in any situation.

Except this one.

The one that got away was officially sitting next to me on a five hour flight – and was immune to me. Like a damn antibiotic. Shit. I was a disease.

I groaned and put my head in my hands, leaning on the small tray.

My second hour in hell ended with the little girl in front of us turning around again and asking if I had gas. And that when she has gas, she moans too.

Side note: I was never reproducing.

Chapter Seven

"I'm not saying I didn't get a little help." Grandma shrugged. "What woman doesn't want to look twenty years younger? These old things still have some perk left." She pointed to herself and winked.

"I'm sorry, but what does this have to do with our national security?" The FBI agent took off his glasses and groaned.

"Oh, it doesn't. I was just bored with all the silly questions about kidnapping and death. So depressing! You wouldn't happen to have any wine, now would you?"

Beth

I'd read the same stupid article at least fifteen times before I finally realized I wasn't going to absorb any information at all. The only helpful piece of information I'd pulled from the two sentences I'd managed to repeat over and over again was that there had been another plane crash in Europe. Thanks, US Weekly. I really appreciate the terror you've just invoked into my life. Not only was I sitting next to Jace, but the plane could go down at any minute. Because, let's be honest, I wasn't the luckiest girl around.

After all.

I'd just admitted to Jace he was my first.

I was also thirty years old. Though he didn't know that, not exactly. It wasn't as if I was wearing a sign across my chest that said Thirty year old virgin.

If they made a movie about my life, it would consist of a pantry, full of cookies, chips, and soda, followed by a Netflix addiction and a poster of Vampire Diaries in my living room.

There would be no leading man. The secondary characters would consist of cats and an aloe vera plant named Waldo.

I closed my eyes and willed my mind to stop thinking and just… relax. But his kiss had again reminded me of what I'd been missing. Of what I'd clearly missed the night before when I'd been eating cookies and throwing myself at him. It was terrifying to think that I'd never been intimate with someone, and that the one time I had, I couldn't remember it. At least I wasn't boring anymore! I already knew people accused me of being boring on account of what I did. It didn't help that it had been my nickname while growing up.

Boring Beth. I hated that humiliating nickname. Brett had called me Boring Beth when I refused to give him a thank-you kiss after prom. When he tried again, I'd threatened to poison him. Scowling, I put the magazine in the back-seat pocket and tried to close my eyes.

"So… your first?" Jace whispered.

I opened my eyes. Yes, I was officially that girl. The girl that opened her eyes when she should have kept them nailed shut, the girl that said yes rather than no, and the girl that, given the chance to kiss the same sexy man all over again, would do it without hesitation.

He really did look like Thor.

He had to know that.

I was almost tempted to tell him that, but I doubted that he needed to be reminded of his own good looks. He'd grown into them too well. In high school he'd been smaller. Cuter. Now he was beautiful. Muscle and sharp planes formed his body into perfection.

Licking my lips, I stole a peek at him out of the corner of my eye. He was leaning against the window, his hand placed on his chin like he was in deep thought. Full sensual lips pressed in a firm line as he continued to stare at the seat in front of him.

I quickly looked away, and that's when the full force of my choices smacked me in the head. I was on a plane for Hawaii, with an almost-stranger, and I had no idea what the heck I was going to do.

"What are we doing?" I asked.

Jace tilted his head toward me. "Pardon?"

"Why are we going to Hawaii? This is insane, you know that, right?"

"It's not." He grimaced. "It looks like we're taking a trip with family. It gives my publicist time to smooth things over, and well, by the looks of it, Grandma isn't going to go down without a fight. Things are better when she's not faking strokes and tricking the clergy into fraud."

"Sound logic." I nodded. "But what are we going to do once we get there? I only had a week of vacation when Grandma called me to come to the wedding." Okay, so I was lying. I'd taken two weeks off, but he didn't know that.

"So, your first?" he asked again.

Is that what he'd been in such deep thought about? I instantly felt my face heat crimson.

"It's not up for discussion," I snapped.

"Fine." Jace turned in his seat, his eyes appearing strained as he silently seemed to work through the situation. "Call your boss when we land, explain the situation, but don't tell the whole truth. Say you had a family emergency. Your name wasn't leaked to the media, and I doubt anyone will be able to tell who you are by the fuzzy pictures they were tossing everywhere on TV."

"Okay, so that solves one problem, but what about Grandma?"

"You called?"

A disembodied voice sounded from behind me. I hoped I was imagining things, but by Jace's irritated expression, I knew that prayer wasn't getting answered. With a slow turn, I faced Grandma. She had wine in her hand and looked cheerful as all get out.

"Did you need something?" Jace asked smoothly.

"You're good." Grandma's eyes narrowed. "I'll have to be more careful with you than I was with the other two. You almost had me fooled, Jace Antonio Brevik."

Somehow I felt like I was in the middle of some sort of silent battle where either Jace won and Grandma walked away, or Grandma won and burned a hole through the plane and we fell to our deaths.

"Anyway," Grandma's attention snapped back to me, "I know this is such an inconvenience, but I have to admit, I planned it."

"You don't say," Jace said in a dry voice.

"I admit when I'm wrong." Grandma glared. "And I was wrong to drug you."

"Drug?" I repeated in a weak voice. "When did you drug us?"

"Honey, you should be more careful about who you let give you drinks."

"Right." I bit my lip. "I should be weary of eighty-six-year-old women with date-rape drugs? Is that what you're saying?"

Grandma stretched to her full height. "I can neither deny nor confirm your suspicions. But I will apologize. I think my matchmaking ways have rattled this old brain. That being said," her face fell, "all I ask is that you let me make it up to you."

"We're not getting married." Jace groaned.

"Oh you!" Grandma tittered, taking a long sip of wine. "I'd like to take you out to dinner once we land, just the three of us. And then you may both enjoy the rest of your week, all expenses paid. Beth, I know how you enjoy hiking."

"You hike?" Jace asked in a shocked voice.

My nostrils flared in irritation. "Don't sound so shocked that I like exercise and nature, Mr. Senator. Sometimes I get bored with all the white walls in my office. I like getting dirty."

His eyes dilated.

On instinct I leaned in, my hand gripping the armrest between us like it was the last barrier before I jumped onto his lap and ripped his tie off. I'd always wanted to do that. Attack a man and have wild crazy—

"And, Jace," Grandma said, ignoring our exchange, where I was daydreaming about taking advantage of him and he was most likely assuming I was suffering an aneurysm, "eating has always been at the top of your list. Don't deny it. You're basically obsessed with fine wine and dining."

"Do you wine taste?" It was out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

Jace's face lit up, the dimple at the corner of his mouth distracting me from breathing. "My family owns a few wineries near the Oregon Coast. I love it."

I'm so marrying him for his wine. Don't judge me. Girls have needs.

"Interesting." I scooted closer, inhaling his scent, allowing his wine-loving presence to wash over me, and then in an instant, Jace jerked away from me and glared at Grandma.

"I see what you're doing."

"What?" Grandma examined her nails.

"She likes wine. I like wine. She likes hiking. I like hiking." He rolled his eyes. "Oh look!" He laughed dryly. "It just so happens I have a priest waiting to marry you. And a special license! Well, I'll be damned." His eyes narrowed. "You belong in a home."

Grandma's icy glare could have single-handedly ended global warming. "The only home I'm going to is the White House, and it's to be sure to secure your failure should ever try to run for office."

"Try me."

"Already have."

"Guys." I placed my hand on Jace's chest and let it shamefully stay there an extra few seconds while I gently pulled Grandma's talons out of my arm.

Jace's face broke out into one of those creepy politician smiles, you know the ones I'm talking about, where you see too many teeth and the eyes get all small. "You're right. Where are my manners? Let's try this again." He cleared his throat, "I don't do relationships. I refuse to be played by a woman who eats blood-pressure pills like candy and cheats at Bridge."

"Why I never—"

"I won't play your games, and now Beth knows that as well."

"We all know that," the lady from the seat in front of us chirped in an irritated voice.

"Drink your damn happy juice," Jace fired back under his breath then crossed his arms. "Grandma, stop meddling. Yes, we'll do dinner, and then this," he pointed at me and her, "is done."

For some reason, I felt like crying. I wasn't really sure why. I mean, I agreed with every single thing he'd said, but that didn't lessen the sting or make me feel the rejection any less.

But the thing about women and how we think? Regardless of what a guy said about not wanting commitment or the stability of a relationship, deep down, every girl imagined that if he just found the right one, he'd change his ways. So hearing that he'd met me, kissed me, slept with me and still wasn't willing to change his ways? Yeah, it stung.

Maybe Jace wasn't trying to reject me, but that was what it felt like. It felt like the final nail in my relationship coffin. If I couldn't perk a politician's interest, really what did I have going for me? I swallowed thickly and gazed up at Grandma.

"Beth? Do you agree?"

Her eyes held magical powers. I could have sworn I felt her reach into my brain and touch the truth with one of her bright red nails. So I looked away for a brief moment before nodding, giving her my best fake smile. "You know me, Grandma. I'm all about my career. Settling down really isn't in my future."

"Well." Grandma slumped. "If you're both sure."

Jace reached for my hand. "We are. And we appreciate the effort."

Okay, suddenly I wanted to punch him in the face.

"Jace," I said in a sickly sweet voice.

"Yeah?"

"If you don't stop speaking on my behalf, I'm going to use your body as my own personal Frankenstein experiment when you're sleeping, got it?"

He pulled back and smirked. "Got it."

"Well," Grandma sighed loud enough to wake up every single child under eight in the back of the plane, "I guess what's done is done. And again, I'm so very sorry for the inconvenience. We'll be landing around dinnertime. I've already apologized to the kids for crashing their honeymoon. They've agreed to take your bags back with them to the hotel while we go have our peaceful dinner, then we can meet them there for a nightcap."

"Fine." I smiled tensely.

"Ta-ta." Grandma waved and walked back down the aisle.

With a sigh I slumped back against my chair, trying to look at the positive side of things. Just because Jace didn't want me didn't mean I was a loser. It just meant I was… single. Still single. Did it mean I was bad in bed? Possibly. It also meant that I was probably a terrible kisser. Who could blame me when my practice had been with Vampire Lover and McDonalds' Employee of the Month?

"She's up to something."

"Jace," I swore, "stop being so…"

"So what?"

"So… suspicious. She apologized. We get a free vacation. Leave it at that."

"But—"

"I'm going to sleep."

"Okay." He sounded disappointed.

I wanted to see the look on his face. I wanted to dissect every single look, every touch, every sigh, but I knew in the end the equation would still equal out to be zero. No matter how many tallies I put in his favor, he still wouldn't want what I had to offer.

Because in the end, I wasn't even sure what I had to offer, except for my heart. And for thirty years – even that hadn't been enough.