The Dare (The Bet #3)(13)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

Licking my lips, I stole a peek at him out of the corner of my eye. He was leaning against the window, his hand placed on his chin like he was in deep thought. Full sensual lips pressed in a firm line as he continued to stare at the seat in front of him.

I quickly looked away, and that’s when the full force of my choices smacked me in the head. I was on a plane for Hawaii, with an almost-stranger, and I had no idea what the heck I was going to do.

"What are we doing?" I asked.

Jace tilted his head toward me. "Pardon?"

"Why are we going to Hawaii? This is insane, you know that, right?"

"It’s not." He grimaced. "It looks like we’re taking a trip with family. It gives my publicist time to smooth things over, and well, by the looks of it, Grandma isn’t going to go down without a fight. Things are better when she’s not faking strokes and tricking the clergy into fraud."

"Sound logic." I nodded. "But what are we going to do once we get there? I only had a week of vacation when Grandma called me to come to the wedding." Okay, so I was lying. I’d taken two weeks off, but he didn’t know that.

"So, your first?" he asked again.

Is that what he’d been in such deep thought about? I instantly felt my face heat crimson.

"It’s not up for discussion," I snapped.

"Fine." Jace turned in his seat, his eyes appearing strained as he silently seemed to work through the situation. "Call your boss when we land, explain the situation, but don’t tell the whole truth. Say you had a family emergency. Your name wasn’t leaked to the media, and I doubt anyone will be able to tell who you are by the fuzzy pictures they were tossing everywhere on TV."

"Okay, so that solves one problem, but what about Grandma?"

"You called?"

A disembodied voice sounded from behind me. I hoped I was imagining things, but by Jace’s irritated expression, I knew that prayer wasn’t getting answered. With a slow turn, I faced Grandma. She had wine in her hand and looked cheerful as all get out.

"Did you need something?" Jace asked smoothly.

"You’re good." Grandma’s eyes narrowed. "I’ll have to be more careful with you than I was with the other two. You almost had me fooled, Jace Antonio Brevik."

Somehow I felt like I was in the middle of some sort of silent battle where either Jace won and Grandma walked away, or Grandma won and burned a hole through the plane and we fell to our deaths.

"Anyway," Grandma’s attention snapped back to me, "I know this is such an inconvenience, but I have to admit, I planned it."

"You don’t say," Jace said in a dry voice.

"I admit when I’m wrong." Grandma glared. "And I was wrong to drug you."

"Drug?" I repeated in a weak voice. "When did you drug us?"

"Honey, you should be more careful about who you let give you drinks."

"Right." I bit my lip. "I should be weary of eighty-six-year-old women with date-rape drugs? Is that what you’re saying?"

Grandma stretched to her full height. "I can neither deny nor confirm your suspicions. But I will apologize. I think my matchmaking ways have rattled this old brain. That being said," her face fell, "all I ask is that you let me make it up to you."

"We’re not getting married." Jace groaned.

"Oh you!" Grandma tittered, taking a long sip of wine. "I’d like to take you out to dinner once we land, just the three of us. And then you may both enjoy the rest of your week, all expenses paid. Beth, I know how you enjoy hiking."

"You hike?" Jace asked in a shocked voice.

My nostrils flared in irritation. "Don’t sound so shocked that I like exercise and nature, Mr. Senator. Sometimes I get bored with all the white walls in my office. I like getting dirty."

His eyes dilated.

On instinct I leaned in, my hand gripping the armrest between us like it was the last barrier before I jumped onto his lap and ripped his tie off. I’d always wanted to do that. Attack a man and have wild crazy—

"And, Jace," Grandma said, ignoring our exchange, where I was daydreaming about taking advantage of him and he was most likely assuming I was suffering an aneurysm, "eating has always been at the top of your list. Don’t deny it. You’re basically obsessed with fine wine and dining."

"Do you wine taste?" It was out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

Jace’s face lit up, the dimple at the corner of his mouth distracting me from breathing. "My family owns a few wineries near the Oregon Coast. I love it."

I’m so marrying him for his wine. Don’t judge me. Girls have needs.

"Interesting." I scooted closer, inhaling his scent, allowing his wine-loving presence to wash over me, and then in an instant, Jace jerked away from me and glared at Grandma.

"I see what you’re doing."

"What?" Grandma examined her nails.

"She likes wine. I like wine. She likes hiking. I like hiking." He rolled his eyes. "Oh look!" He laughed dryly. "It just so happens I have a priest waiting to marry you. And a special license! Well, I’ll be damned." His eyes narrowed. "You belong in a home."

Grandma’s icy glare could have single-handedly ended global warming. "The only home I’m going to is the White House, and it’s to be sure to secure your failure should ever try to run for office."

"Try me."

"Already have."

"Guys." I placed my hand on Jace’s chest and let it shamefully stay there an extra few seconds while I gently pulled Grandma’s talons out of my arm.

Jace’s face broke out into one of those creepy politician smiles, you know the ones I’m talking about, where you see too many teeth and the eyes get all small. "You’re right. Where are my manners? Let’s try this again." He cleared his throat, "I don’t do relationships. I refuse to be played by a woman who eats blood-pressure pills like candy and cheats at Bridge."

"Why I never—"

"I won’t play your games, and now Beth knows that as well."

"We all know that," the lady from the seat in front of us chirped in an irritated voice.

"Drink your damn happy juice," Jace fired back under his breath then crossed his arms. "Grandma, stop meddling. Yes, we’ll do dinner, and then this," he pointed at me and her, "is done."

For some reason, I felt like crying. I wasn’t really sure why. I mean, I agreed with every single thing he’d said, but that didn’t lessen the sting or make me feel the rejection any less.

But the thing about women and how we think? Regardless of what a guy said about not wanting commitment or the stability of a relationship, deep down, every girl imagined that if he just found the right one, he’d change his ways. So hearing that he’d met me, kissed me, slept with me and still wasn’t willing to change his ways? Yeah, it stung.