The Wager(95)

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—”