anything.”
“We gonna run or gossip about my whorish brother?” Travis smacked her butt and jogged past her.
“Remind me why I thought doing the soldier wedding workout was a good idea?”
“It was in one of those stupid magazines you’ve been collecting like squirrels collect nuts. I noticed the girl’s six pack, you bruised my arm—thanks for that by the way—and then you said you were going to be hotter for your wedding. Thus the current five-mile run that has me dreaming of a nice hot shower.”
Kacey fell into her stride next to him. “Whatever, and it’s not my fault you bruise like a peach.”
“Aw, baby… You know I don’t mind when they’re those kind of bruises.” He bit down on his lip and stopped running, pulling Kacey into his embrace. “I love you.”
Kacey scowled. “But what are we going to do about Grandma!”
“Women are weird. I’m talking about biting every square inch of your body and you want to talk about my grandma? Really?”
“Travis.”
“Kacey.” He nibbled her lower lip and then kissed her nose. “We’ll beat her at her own game. If she wants to play matchmaker, we’ll just play matchmaker ourselves.”
“You mean, like, set Jake up ourselves? And see who wins?”
“Absolutely.”
“I like that idea.” Kacey wrapped her arms around Travis’s neck. “After all, we know what’s best for Jake.”
“The monastery?”
Kacey snorted. “Probably. At any rate, we can invite some single girls to the wedding, ones that would really click with him.”
“A wager.” Travis nodded. “Between us and Grandma. We win, she pays for the honeymoon. She wins…”
“She can sing at the wedding,” Kacey sighed.
“No!” Travis touched his forehead to hers. “I’m not that insane. I’d rather buy her a boat or pay for her stripper workouts every week.”
“It’s what she wants.”
“She also wants to buy a tiger like Mike Tyson. Just because she wants something doesn’t mean we have to indulge her.”
“Travis.” Kacey kissed his lips softly. “There’s nothing to worry about; it’s not like she’ll win.”
Grunting, Travis kissed her head. “Fine, but if Grandma does win and she ends up with a microphone, it’s on you. Now, let’s finish our last mile so I can have my way with you in the shower.”
“Gotta catch me first!” Kacey yelled as she breezed past him.
Chapter Ten
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Jake stared at the building with a mixture of horror and confusion. “We have to have the wrong address.”
Char snatched the piece of paper from his hands. “Let me look.”
“I can read, you know.”
Rolling her eyes, she scanned the paper. “Unbelievable.”
“What?” He leaned over her shoulder to look at the address. Her scent pulled at him, making his insides tense.
“That you can read.”
“Very funny.”
“It’s the right address.” Char slapped the paper against his chest and walked up to the dark door. “I guess we just… go in?”
“Hell, no.” Jake crossed his arms. “Not gonna happen.”
“The list says that Madame is expecting us at one! We’re going to be late if we don’t go in.”
Jake licked his lips and looked at the building again. The windows were filled with pictures of women laughing and throwing confetti into the air while men danced with them. It was like a very bad tampon commercial gone wrong.
“No. And who the hell is Madame anyways?”
Char rolled her eyes. “It’s her name. Why, you scared you’re gonna grow a pair of boobs? You afraid your balls are gonna disappear?”
Jake snorted. “Fine, let’s go.” Irritated, he grabbed her arm with his left hand and pushed open the door with his right.
The room was blanketed in black.
“See, wrong address.” Jake released Char’s arm and pulled out his cell just as music began to fill the room. Then a few stage lights popped on, causing Jake to go blind momentarily. “What the hell?”
And then the singing began.
Char tensed beside him. More lights flickered on, although Jake had no idea where they’d come from; he was still seeing spots from the first ones. He tried to take a step to the side and ran into a table. Placing his hands on the table he looked down.
Pictures of shirtless Chippendale men greeted him.
He jerked back and bumped into something hard. He turned around to steady whatever he’d bumped into.
A naked statue.
Of a dude.
Where the hell was he supposed to touch? He reached out to grab the waist of the statue since it had conveniently been set on a table so that he was eye level with the nakedness, and was bumped by Char, who apparently had been fighting her own battle with a swarm of balloons in the shape of, er… parts.
“Holy crap.” Char grabbed Jake’s hand. “We have to make a run for it.”
“It’s like hell, only worse.” Jake agreed grabbing her arm.
“Welcome, welcome!” Came a voice over a loudspeaker.
“Holy shit, we’re officially in the Hunger Games.” Jake grabbed Char and put her behind him. “Just let me die first. Please God, let me die first.”
“I’ve been expecting you!” the female voice happily announced.
“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better,” Char whispered from behind Jake. “Oh, and by the way, it’s only romantic to sacrifice yourself for me if death isn’t the better option, twinkle toes!”
Jake paused. “You swore you’d take that to your grave!”
“Oops?” Char shrugged. “How many years were you in ballet? One, two?”
“Oops, my ass!” Why the hell would she bring up that old nickname? Now of all times? Had she any idea how emasculating it was?
“Just stay still—”
“I can both hear and see you,” the voice said. “And I don’t have all day. Now, let me examine you.”
“We’ve officially skipped
“That, my dear,” the voice laughed, “is the point, is it not?”
“Er, not?” Char gave a hollow laugh.
“I do not have all day!” the voice yelled. “Now, separate. I need to see what I have to work with.”
Char slowly stepped out from behind Jake and stood, head held high. Jake had to admire that. Any other girl would have run out of the room. Shit, he was a guy and he was going to have nightmares.
“Not bad,” the voice said coolly. “Not bad at all.”
“Thanks.” Char grinned.
