The Bet - Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,1

like I’m propositioning you for sex or something.”

“That’s the example you come up with? Sex? Really? Because to be honest, Jake, this is so much worse!” Her hands shook as she tried to level her breathing to a normal pace. At this rate she was going to have a full on panic attack.

“How is this worse?” His voice rose a few octaves as other patrons of the coffee shop looked in their direction.

Kacey leaned back against the leather chair and groaned.

“I’m dead serious, Kacey. It’s the only way to convince them.” Jake leaned forward, his bronzed muscular forearms flexing against his rolled up sleeves as he rested his hands across the table.

“You do realize your parents have known me since I was three? Furthermore, I’m convinced that your mother would be able to see right through us. And don’t even get me started on that grandmother of yours.”

Jake’s stone face cracked into a smile.

“Don’t laugh! I’m serious, Jake! The woman should have worked for the FBI.”

“It’s her eyes.” Jake shrugged. “They always get me.” He shuddered. “But you’re getting off-topic, Kacey. I’m desperate.”

“Oh, wow. Well, when you put it that way, how could I turn you down? You’re desperate! Romantic man you are not. I have no idea how you managed to become the city’s most eligible bachelor, and at twenty-one. Impressive.” She shook her head in disbelief.

“Really, you don’t know?” He leaned forward, his biceps tightening beneath his grey button-up shirt, ready to burst through at any minute. His clean-shaven face held a hint of a five o’clock shadow, and his dark hair fell in waves across his forehead. Clear hazel eyes gazed back at her, and she couldn’t find the strength to look away from his lips as his tongue ran across them.

Crap. She was actually sweating just looking at the guy. It didn’t help matters that this was the first time she had heard from him since the incident. Not that this was the time to bring that up.

“Fine.” Kacey told her heart to stop beating so fast and closed her eyes again. “Jake, it won’t ever work. Why don’t you get one of your stripper girlfriends to do it for you?” And please, for the love of God, leave me alone. Too many memories stared back at her through his eyes, and she wasn’t sure she could stomach it. Not after hearing that the restaurant her parents had owned just opened up two new locations, one of them in Seattle. The wound seemed to open all over again. She shuddered and let Jake continue to plead his case.

“Um, because they’re strippers?” Jake lifted his hands into the air and shook his head. “Do you want my grandmother to die? Because I assure you, that will do nothing more than cause another stroke.”

Kacey paused. “Another stroke? As in she’s had a few?” Is that why Grandma Nadine hadn’t written her in a month?

Jake winced. “Yes, it’s been getting worse.” He ran his hands through his thick hair. “Will you help me or not? I’ll pay you—”

“You’ll pay me?” Kacey snorted. “Just like you pay your strippers? Why do I feel like I’m getting nothing out of this?”

Jake grinned. “Wow, I hate to pull out the big guns, but you owe me.”

“I owe you?” Kacey repeated. “Oh, please tell how I owe the great Jake Titus a favor. I’m dying to know, really.” She raised her eyebrows and tapped her manicured nail against the cup of cold coffee.

“Fine.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Fifth grade, you wanted a dog. Your parents said no. So I, being the good friend I am, went to the store and bought you one.”

“Doesn’t count,” Kacey interjected. “You named him after yourself.”

“He had dark hair,” Jake argued. “Besides, you slept with him every night.” His grin was shameless, and Kacey wanted to punch him in the face for it.

She opened her mouth to say so, but he interrupted her.

“Eighth grade—”

“Oh, Lord.”

“Eighth grade,” he repeated with a wink. “You had a crush on Stevenson Merrit. I, being the friend that I am, told him that you were the best kisser in the entire school. You guys went out for a year before you dumped him for greener pastures.”

“Ah, so that’s how you refer to yourself now days. Greener pastures.” Kacey smiled patronizingly.

“Yeah, well, it’s true.”

“Not good enough.” Kacey sighed. He was so close she could smell his shampoo. A spicy masculine mix of mint and cinnamon that teased her