Read Online The Wager by Rachel van Dyken - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rachel van Dyken
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the entire bag in front of her.
Her reasoning was that it would keep him from stealing again. Because if she ever caught him with sticky fingers, he’d either have to consume said object or wear it around the house.
In high school it had happened again with beer. She’d given him a six pack and told him to chug until he got sick. It took him three before he was puking. Naturally, Grandma had finished the rest of the pack.
Suffice it to say, it was always wiser to agree with the woman than to tempt fate. So he drove her around town, played the nice grandson, and then prayed to God she would finally hire him back so he could stop playing chauffeur and wedding planner.
Good God, he was going to turn into a woman waiting for that damn irritating girl.
The doorbell rang.
He ran to it. Then stopped and took a few deep breaths. Yup, definitely turning into a woman. He was acting like this was a first date or something! It was Char! Char! He had to repeat her name several times out loud before he was able to finally pull the door open.
Her smile lit up his dark mood and suddenly he remembered all over again why he stayed away from girls like her.
They were trouble.
They promised you pleasure and in the end wanted commitment, something any guy would run from—especially a guy like him. He didn’t deserve anything like it—he wasn’t that much of an ass to not know that a girl like Char, well, she deserved one of the good ones.
Not him. Definitely, not him.
Her eyes lit up when he smiled.
Shit. He was going to have to stop flirting with her. She was going to get the wrong idea, and he was going to lose his mind if he had to partner up with her for the entire wedding week, wondering if she was just waiting for the right time to pull a knife on him.
“Come in.” He opened the door wider and fought hard not to stare at her backside as she walked past him and her heels clicked against the marble floors. Clearly she’d been at work. She was wearing a tight pencil skirt, white blouse, and red heels.
Poor choice.
Because now he was thinking about Grandma and her stupid airport story and…
“Jake?” Char’s soft voice brought him back to the present. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“No.” He laughed awkwardly. “I was, um, just admiring your shoes.”
“My shoes?” Her eyebrows arched in amusement. “You have a thing for heels?”
“On you?” He nodded. “I think I just might.”
Shit, there he went again. What was wrong with him? It was like second nature with Char, as if he couldn’t help but be drawn to her. His body involuntarily moved toward her. Was it her eyes? Her hair? A little voice, one he hadn’t listened to in a long time, told him no. It wasn’t physical; it was something completely different, something foreign. Something he really didn’t want to think about or dwell on too much, because then he’d have to admit to actually having a heart, which only meant one thing… Eventually it would break, only this time he wouldn’t have anything to fall back on, just air and nothingness.
He swallowed and looked away. “So, lunch?”
She took his arm and looked around the house. “Sounds good.” Her eyes narrowed.
“What?” He stopped in his tracks. “What’s wrong?”
“A girl forgets.” She chuckled slightly.
“Forgets?”
“How totally and ridiculously rich you are.”
Jake snorted. “Jobless at the moment, but thanks.”
“Oh please.” Char pulled her arm away and walked ahead of him as she stepped into the giant kitchen. “All of this? This is what people dream of living in their entire lives. I mean, I would kill for your kitchen. You have two ovens! My one oven barely works.”
Amused, Jake leaned against the counter. “You like to cook?”
“I love it.” She sighed. “I don’t have as much time as I used to, and my kitchen kind of sucks, just like you…” She smiled sweetly. “If I had a place like this I wouldn’t be feeling sorry for
Her reasoning was that it would keep him from stealing again. Because if she ever caught him with sticky fingers, he’d either have to consume said object or wear it around the house.
In high school it had happened again with beer. She’d given him a six pack and told him to chug until he got sick. It took him three before he was puking. Naturally, Grandma had finished the rest of the pack.
Suffice it to say, it was always wiser to agree with the woman than to tempt fate. So he drove her around town, played the nice grandson, and then prayed to God she would finally hire him back so he could stop playing chauffeur and wedding planner.
Good God, he was going to turn into a woman waiting for that damn irritating girl.
The doorbell rang.
He ran to it. Then stopped and took a few deep breaths. Yup, definitely turning into a woman. He was acting like this was a first date or something! It was Char! Char! He had to repeat her name several times out loud before he was able to finally pull the door open.
Her smile lit up his dark mood and suddenly he remembered all over again why he stayed away from girls like her.
They were trouble.
They promised you pleasure and in the end wanted commitment, something any guy would run from—especially a guy like him. He didn’t deserve anything like it—he wasn’t that much of an ass to not know that a girl like Char, well, she deserved one of the good ones.
Not him. Definitely, not him.
Her eyes lit up when he smiled.
Shit. He was going to have to stop flirting with her. She was going to get the wrong idea, and he was going to lose his mind if he had to partner up with her for the entire wedding week, wondering if she was just waiting for the right time to pull a knife on him.
“Come in.” He opened the door wider and fought hard not to stare at her backside as she walked past him and her heels clicked against the marble floors. Clearly she’d been at work. She was wearing a tight pencil skirt, white blouse, and red heels.
Poor choice.
Because now he was thinking about Grandma and her stupid airport story and…
“Jake?” Char’s soft voice brought him back to the present. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“No.” He laughed awkwardly. “I was, um, just admiring your shoes.”
“My shoes?” Her eyebrows arched in amusement. “You have a thing for heels?”
“On you?” He nodded. “I think I just might.”
Shit, there he went again. What was wrong with him? It was like second nature with Char, as if he couldn’t help but be drawn to her. His body involuntarily moved toward her. Was it her eyes? Her hair? A little voice, one he hadn’t listened to in a long time, told him no. It wasn’t physical; it was something completely different, something foreign. Something he really didn’t want to think about or dwell on too much, because then he’d have to admit to actually having a heart, which only meant one thing… Eventually it would break, only this time he wouldn’t have anything to fall back on, just air and nothingness.
He swallowed and looked away. “So, lunch?”
She took his arm and looked around the house. “Sounds good.” Her eyes narrowed.
“What?” He stopped in his tracks. “What’s wrong?”
“A girl forgets.” She chuckled slightly.
“Forgets?”
“How totally and ridiculously rich you are.”
Jake snorted. “Jobless at the moment, but thanks.”
“Oh please.” Char pulled her arm away and walked ahead of him as she stepped into the giant kitchen. “All of this? This is what people dream of living in their entire lives. I mean, I would kill for your kitchen. You have two ovens! My one oven barely works.”
Amused, Jake leaned against the counter. “You like to cook?”
“I love it.” She sighed. “I don’t have as much time as I used to, and my kitchen kind of sucks, just like you…” She smiled sweetly. “If I had a place like this I wouldn’t be feeling sorry for
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