The Wager

“Me?” Jake yelled. “Why in the hell would she want me on the other side of her? Is this a joke? It’s not funny—”

“Stop yelling.” Travis swore. “See? I knew you’d freak out. It’s just that… Kacey and you were best friends for so long and even though you guys had those rough couple of years, you were still a huge part of her life, and she wants to honor you because of it.”

Well, shit.

Jake never cried.

Ever.

The last time he’d cried was when Kacey’s parents died, and even then he’d locked himself in his dorm and gotten trashed so he wouldn’t remember the fact that he’d shed actual tears.

But now… now he felt a hell of a lot like sobbing his damn eyes out. Because it shouldn’t be him walking Kacey down the aisle, or his father—but hers. Part of him, a small part, felt like it was his fault. That if he could just go back in time and fix a few things, that everyone would be alive and happy.

“Jake, you still there?”

“Yeah,” he croaked. “Can I… um, can I think about it?”

“Sure.”

“Look.” Jake hit the steering wheel with his hand. “I gotta run. Say hi to Kace for me.”

“Okay. Later, man.”

Jake turned off the car and hit the steering wheel.

Once wasn’t enough. He hit it again and again until finally his hand was so damn numb he was sure he’d have to ice it later.

One of these days he would tell her everything. He’d explain to her that her father… had saved his life.

A bitter taste filled his mouth as he thought about the past—about his past in general. Would Bill have been proud of Jake and his choices? Or would he have done what he did eight years ago… take him out back and make him chop wood and dig holes until his fingers bled—until Jake realized the giant error in judgment he’d made?

With a curse, Jake got out of the car and walked toward the tux shop. He’d think about it—he’d think about walking Kacey down the aisle—even if it meant he wasn’t going to be the man at the end of it. He’d never been deserving of that kind of love and he probably never would be. 

Chapter Twelve

Beth snapped her fingers in front of Char’s face. “Um, did you hear anything I just said?”

Char felt her cheeks flame as she took a long sip of wine. “Sure, you were talking about work.” It wasn’t as if that would be anything new. Beth’s job as a chemist for one of the medical labs always produced dry stories.

“And?”

Char set her wine down and used her fork to spread some of her dinner salad across her plate. “And, tell me more?”

Beth sighed. “Really? I just listed the periodic table of elements and you want to hear more?”

Snorting, Char leaned forward. “No wonder I blacked out.”

“Where are you tonight? It’s girls’ night! Remember? Food? Drinks? Fun?”

Oh you know. Exactly where every other girl’s brain would be. Kissing Jake, touching his muscular chest, running her tongue along his plump bottom lip and—

“Did someone say girls’ night?” A familiar voice shot through the restaurant. Char turned and came face to face with Grandma. Well, Grandma and a blinding gold jacket with leopard fur around the collar. Her skinny jeans were accentuated that much more by matching leopard heels.

“How did you—”

“Oh.” Grandma waved off Char and took a seat at the table. “There’s an app for everything. Did you know that?”

“Yes but—”

“Anyways.” Grandma waved over a waiter and ordered three shots of tequila. The woman better be drinking those alone; no way was Char going to take shots with Jake’s grandmother! “There’s this handy little app called find a friend!”

Char grabbed her phone. “I didn’t even know I had that on my phone or that you were—”

Grandma shrugged as if she was keeping a big giant secret. “It’s how I keep track of Jake’s whores.”

Beth spit out her drink all over the table and began coughing.

Grandma yawned and examined her nails, totally unaffected by Beth’s outburst. Char gave her sister a glare and turned back to Grandma.

“I’m pretty sure they created that app so people wouldn’t worry about their friends and family. You know, not stalk people.”

“Oh well, to each his own.” Grandma set her phone down and clicked on the screen with one finger, and then clicked again, and again.

Beth mouthed something to Char; she couldn’t make it out.

The waiter dropped off the shots just as Grandma jerked back and clapped. “I knew it!”

Beth seemed to be in a trance as she watched Grandma clap her hands and thrust her phone into the air. “He’ll be here soon.”

“Who are you again?” Beth asked.

“I’m Grandma.” This was stated so normally, so factually, that Char had to hand it to Grandma. I mean, was there any other way to describe the woman? Saying “I’m Grandma” must have covered a multitude of sins. “Cheers.” Grandma reached for a shot and lifted it into the air then eyed both Char and Beth.

Taking a big gulp of water, Char reached for the shot and lifted it into the air with Grandma.

“A toast,” Grandma said. “To singing at my grandson’s wedding!”

“Sure.” Beth clinked her glass with Grandma’s. “I’ll drink to that.”

Char shrugged and took the shot. Just as Jake walked into the restaurant and made a beeline for their table.

Char was no stranger to shots—not at all. But for some reason the way Jake’s distressed jeans hugged his muscular thighs did something to her. The tequila burned all the way down and then threatened to come back up, especially when he winked in her direction and leaned down to kiss his grandmother on the cheek.

Char coughed.

Beth sighed.

Char kicked her sister underneath the table.

And Grandma ordered more shots.

“Um.” Char laughed nervously. “Are we celebrating anything?”

“Ladies’ night!” Grandma announced, shaking her chest back and forth in glee.

Jake looked away and blushed.

Strange that a man who had no morals actually knew how to blush?

“But Jake’s here.” Char pointed to the sinfully wonderful-smelling man and prayed he’d lean in just a bit closer so she could feel the heat radiating off his body without looking like a lunatic in heat.

Grandma looked her grandson up and down. “He doesn’t count.”

“Thanks, Grandma.” Jake said tightly.

“Hi. I’m Beth.” Char’s sister reached across the table to shake Jake’s hand. “I would have said hi to you on the plane but you were all swollen.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“Any time.” She winked. “Welcome to girls’ night.”

“Famous last words, I’m sure.” Jake took her hand in his and shook it, then turned to his grandmother. “Okay, so by the looks of your outfit, you didn’t get run over by a truck, nor are you suffering from a concussion or