The Consequence of Revenge (Consequence 2)

Right, was I really using that as an excuse to chase a guy in a dating game in hopes of winning some money? Howard Schultz would have been so disappointed.

Then again, if I saved the Bachelor, he might just give me one of those fancy cards rumored to give you free coffee for life.

For life.

Sacrifice officially worth it.

I unbuckled my seat belt and hightailed it out of coach toward the first-class cabin.

I greedily searched for Max; he was back in his seat with a few sheets of paper in his hand. He stuck a pen in his mouth and narrowed his eyes as he examined the papers.

“What are you doing?” I blurted. Wow. Smooth. So smooth.

“Thinking,” Max said without looking up.

“Finally.” I sat down next to him.

“Funny.” He tapped the pen against his mouth.

I watched.

Not because I was attracted but because I was concerned that the, um, pen would leak and how embarrassing would that be if he had a blue mouth for the rest of the week?

“Stop staring at me,” he sang. “Unless I have something on my face, and then you’re obligated to tell me on account that you’ve been staring so hard it would be embarrassing otherwise, so what is it? Crumb? Pieces of Amazonian pine nuts? Because I’m pretty sure that woman’s damn well marked me. I’m surprised she hasn’t peed on my pants or something.”

“Amazon?” I laughed.

“The tall one.” I nodded. “I nicknamed her Amazon, look.” He pointed to the sheet he had in his hands, where Gina’s picture was located. Underneath it he’d written, “Amazon.”

“Clever.”

“I thought so.” He put a giant X over her face and moved on to the next one.

“So which one is she?”

“Jayne.” He nodded.

“But her name’s Sarah.”

“Right.” Max put another X over her picture. “But my trigger word is Jayne on account that every time I hear that name my boys do a little dance in my pants. Not a good dance, so don’t slap me, but the kind that makes me kind of wish I was batting for the other team, and no straight man should ever have to utter that sentence aloud. Humiliating. Oh, and P.S.: She’s terrifying. I’d take my chances with a goat any day.”

“Because goats are terrifying?” I leaned in so I could see the rest of the pictures.

Max dropped the papers onto his lap and turned to face me. “Have you seen a goat?”

“Are you serious?”

Max rolled his eyes. “Goats be crazy. They have red eyes, they’ll eat anything, including your shirt, and they have no manners. Plus they’re unpredictable. I like my animals . . . slow.”

“This is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had.”

“Whatever, I’m just trying to explain my feelings.”

“About goats.”

“About Jayne!” Max lifted his hands into the air. “Hey, what are you even doing up here anyways? This is a camera-free zone and we’re supposed to be landing soon.”

Embarrassed, I leaned back in the seat and shrugged. “I was worried Gina, also known as Amazon, was hunting you again.”

“Yeah, well.” Max shrugged. “I’ll be sure to use my bow and arrow next time she decides to trounce through my forest.”

“There’s a sexual innuendo somewhere in there, isn’t there?”

“Aw.” Max winked. “Would you like there to be?”

“So about the goats . . .”

Max shuddered. “If you stay, you have to help.”

“Help?” I chewed my lower lip. “Help with what?”

“My strategy.”

“But I’m a contestant.”

“But I’ve already decided to keep you,” Max whispered.

“Really?” All breath left my body as he leaned in.

“Yeah.” He smirked. “Like a little . . . pet.”

Deflated, I rolled my eyes. “Wow, thank you, best compliment I’ve ever received.”

“Hey, at least you’re not Amazon.”

“What’s my nickname?” I reached for the sheets but he pushed my hands away.

“No looking.”

“Max . . .” I fluttered my eyelashes and licked my lips.

“Nice try.” He released my hands. “But I’m the king of playing that game, sweetheart, you can’t just go up against the master and expect to come out the victor.”

“What game?” I asked innocently.

“Really?” Max licked his lips, then eyed me up and down. “It’s amazing what the human body’s capable of, like if I lean forward, your breathing picks up, but then again so does mine. That’s what happens when you get close to someone else—you pick up on their energy, you pick up on their lust. So right now, I expect you to press your breasts together, to lean down so that I see part of your skin but not enough to actually give me an idea of what you look like naked. I expect your eyes to dilate as if you want to take everything in, and lick your lips one more time. The first time I missed the action of your tongue sliding out of your mouth, which means it wasn’t on purpose—it was because you were nervous.”

He pulled back and slapped me on the knee.

Holy crap.

I made a move to stand up. I was a bit in over my head, a bit flustered, and a whole lot of curious and possibly . . . a bit . . . attracted.