The Wager(56)

Travis cursed. “So, what? You want me to go give him a damn hug or something? And I’m sorry, but letting them play it out means that not only are we taking a risk on Jake, but if we lose—and there’s a ninety percent chance of that happening, by the way—Grandma’s going to sing at our wedding for an entire hour while people drink themselves to death.”

Ah, Travis, so rough around the edges and protective. That was why she was marrying him. He was the most attractive man she’d ever met, and he was going to be all hers. With a sultry grin, she leaned in and nipped at his lips. “I want you to try. Please? For me?”

“Try?” His voice was hoarse. “Try what?”

“Try not being an ass and give him a chance.”

He groaned against her mouth and pushed her against the wall harder, his body aligning with hers as he lifted her into his arms and gripped her body against his. “Fine. I’ll try, but if I try with him that means you have to try with Grandma.”

“Huh?” His lips left hers as they burned a hot trail down her neck. “Grandma.

Try to get by her tonight.”

“Why?” Was that new? His tongue felt so good as it licked down the base of her throat that she clenched his shirt in her fists and moaned.

“Because I want you.” Using his teeth he tugged on the front of her dress and moved his assault lower. “And I may die if I can’t have you.”

“Don’t be such a guy.” She panted.

“Ahem.” A voice said from the hall.

Cursing, Travis slowly let Kacey slip back to her feet and pushed her in front of him. Coward. Grandma stood there, arms crossed, staring lasers into both of them. “Rules, both of you, like children.”

“Wouldn’t want my children acting that way…” Travis said behind Kacey. He just had to say something.

Grandma’s eyes narrowed as she stomped the rest of the way toward them. Being the dutiful fiancée that she was, when Grandma stopped in front of Kacey, Kacey moved out of the way so Grandma could grab a hold of Travis’s ear and drag him down the hall.

“Thanks a lot, Kace!” he called as Grandma led him out the front door.





Chapter Thirty-five


The cool night breeze blew across the Columbia River as Jake took a sip of beer. The view from the tree house had always been a family favorite. The tree house had been built with the river in mind. It was high enough to be able to see the view beyond the trees, but not too high, so that when Jake, Travis, and Kacey were little, they wouldn’t fall out and kill themselves.

Char had been there once, maybe twice.

He’d been eight when he met her for the first time. She walked right up to him and punched him in the nose. When the bleeding stopped two hours later, he asked why she did it.

Her answer?

He’d been staring at her funny.

Angry, he’d yelled at her and told her if she wasn’t so ugly he wouldn’t stare so hard. She’d cried—and so began their tumultuous relationship throughout elementary school.

In middle school things had changed. She’d started turning into a really pretty girl, a pretty girl that still wanted nothing to do with him.

Until sixth grade. He’d written a note to her during study hall and asked her to hang out during break.

They were inseparable after that. It had been about a damn Twinkie. The Hostess kind that you knew would probably survive a nuclear holocaust if need be. Seriously, that would be the one food that aliens would find millions of years from now. No mold. Just as yellow as ever.

He’d always hated Twinkies, but that day, he’d decided to take it. He never told her he hated them. He just pretended to save them for later, all the while watching her eat hers. She’d been so pretty. Her hair was a lot darker than it was now. More black then chestnut.

Her eyes had been such a pretty contrast to her dark hair that he’d found himself staring at her again. This time she didn’t punch him; she just blushed and looked away.

In that moment he knew the crush was bad. He was even embarrassed to tell Kacey, who at the time was his best friend in the world. Forget telling Travis; Travis hated everyone and Jake had always felt like he was being compared to Travis as a child. So he kept it to himself.

As well as his collection of Twinkies.

All in the tree house.

He laughed at the memory, wondering if anyone had ever found those damn things and wondered why the hell he stocked them like a half-starved squirrel.

Looking back, he couldn’t remember what had caused the animosity as well as the divide between him and Char. Freshman year she’d just stopped talking to him. He’d even bought her a box of Twinkies and put it in her locker with a note.