The Dare (The Bet #3)(50)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

"Was that it?" I asked calmly.

"What?"

"Was that the speech?" I pulled away from him and stood.

"No?"

"Is that a question or an answer?"

"Um," he scratched his head and looked helplessly around the room, "I thought you liked me."

"Oh, dear Lord." I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Of course, I like you. Of course, I believe in second chances, and I accept your apology for partially getting us caught in this fiasco. But Jace," I fought to keep my voice even, "girls don’t work that way."

"What do you mean?"

"You can’t just give us the words and expect a pat on the ass and a cookie."

"How about just a pat on the ass." He smirked.

"Be serious!" I almost stomped my foot. Good one. "You expect me to fall all over myself because you said sorry? You expect sex because you want a second chance, yet you haven’t even told me why you want one. You said you were walking away in a few days. Is that still true?"

Jace stood and reached for me, his hands digging into my shoulders as he pulled me into his embrace. "That depends on you."

"What? So we play at being madly in love, and if it ends up being true, you don’t walk away? But if things don’t work out, then what? Then I’m left with a broken heart. Don’t you see? The problem isn’t the second chance. The problem is you want to have your cake and eat it too. You want to test the waters because you want safe. And I’m sick and tired of safe."

Jace shoved his hands in his pockets, swaying on his feet as if the world had just dropped onto his shoulders. "What do you want?"

"Danger," I snapped. "Spice. Crazy." My lips trembled. "I want crazy. I-can’t-get-you-out-of–my-head lust. I want Romeo-and-Juliet-type of love. I want Mr. Darcy to ride his damn horse into my life. Words aren’t enough. I need actions too. And I think I deserve it."

Jace was oddly silent during my rant. And then his face broke out into a giant grin.

"Stop smiling." I was about two seconds away from choking the life from his body. Was he making fun of me?

"Done."

"Done?" My eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean done? You’re going to suddenly Thor yourself all over the place and get romantic?"

He shrugged.

"Find a white horse and sword?"

He shrugged again.

"Stop shrugging!" This time I did stomp my foot. Yes. I was a thirty-year-old foot-stomper, so sue me. We all have our moments.

"Let’s go." He grabbed my hand.

I stood my ground.

So he threw me over his shoulder and marched out the little hut door. And I hated to admit I was grinning like a fool the entire way.

Chapter Twenty-nine

"Do you think that Mr. Brevik felt outside pressure to romance the young girl?"

"Well, of course he did! Leaving that man to his own devices is like giving a child a quad-shot mocha. They run into walls and scream at the top of their lungs."

"So in your mind, Mr. Brevik is a child?"

"He’s a man," Grandma said slowly for the agent’s benefit.

"Your point?"

"Men, children — there is no difference, only that you change one’s diapers while the other just lets loose in public."

"I don’t know how to respond to that."

"Like I said, men."

Jace

I was going to need a hell of a lot of Gatorade if I was going to pull everything off. She wanted crazy? I’d give her crazy. There I was, pouring my feelings out all over the place like some Lifetime Christmas movie, and she still wasn’t impressed?

Fine. I’d keep romancing the pants off of her until she realized that I was in it; I wanted a second chance. Then again, I didn’t blame her. Why give me a second chance when I’d told her to her face that I was walking away from her?

I wouldn’t trust me either.

And there was that small problem of my profession.

"Jace," Beth snapped. I was still carrying her; I liked carrying her. I wasn’t putting her down anytime soon.

"Shh…" I slapped her ass. "I’m thinking. Don’t interrupt a man when he’s thinking."

"I want to lick you."

I tripped and almost went sailing into the wall. All thoughts left my mind. All thoughts except her tongue on me, my tongue in her mouth, licking. Lots of licking.

"Why’d we stop walking?" Beth said innocently.

I slapped her ass again. "You’ll pay for that."

"Yes, please."

More licking.

"Damn it, Beth!" I huffed. "Stop doing that."

"What?"

"That," I grumbled, setting her on her feet. Now climb.

"Climb?"

I turned her around and pointed to the cliff. "Climb."

"You’re kidding, right?"

The cliff was a rocky climb. It led to a ledge that was about thirty feet high. I’d seen locals jumping from the cliff for the past few days and figured if they could do it without dying, we could too. She wanted crazy? This was insane.

"Nope." I crossed my arms. "Not kidding. Where’s your sense of adventure?"

"Must have left it back at the hut with your feather tea," she said through clenched teeth.

"I’m making a big gesture." I tilted her chin toward me and brushed a soft kiss across her lips. "The least you could do is go along with it."

"Fine, but if I die, I’m going to haunt you for the rest of your days."

I helped her on to the rocky trail and held her hand as we made our way slowly up the cliff. Luckily, the path was lit by a few torches, so it wasn’t like it was this creepy abandoned area that was booby-trapped or something.

A warm breeze picked up once we reached the ledge. Waves crashed against the rocks below us. I had to close my eyes.

"What are you doing?" Beth squeezed my hand.

"I forgot to tell you something."

"What?"

Shit, I was sweating. "I’m terrified of heights."

"Then why are we here?"

"You said you wanted crazy. You said my apology wasn’t good enough, and let’s be honest, you have absolutely no reason to trust me."

"All true." She looked nervously over the edge then back at me. "So what’s your point?"

"My point is you need vulnerable."

She bit down on her bottom lip and released my hand.

"You don’t need crazy." I sighed. "You want crazy for you."

Beth still refused to look at me.

"Heights terrify me," I continued. "If you had asked me last week what my biggest fear was? I would have said heights. Two days ago, I would have said Frank."