The Dare (The Bet 3) - Page 55

I held out my hand.

She took it. "Deal, but no cheating."

"Please, I don't cheat."

"Says the senator," she sang.

"Low blow."

"You make it too easy."

With a grin she patted my chest, and, if it were at all possible to be more aroused, it happened. All because she placated me, she patted me like a small child, and here I was ready to throw caution to the wind and take her on the bed.

"Jace?"

"Huh?" My head snapped up.

"Lunch?"

I pulled my watch off the nightstand and exhaled, giving my body enough time to calm the hell down. "You're right. It's still early. Let's do it."

Beth pulled out a sheet of paper and frowned.

"What?"

"It says we have three restaurants to choose from, and that we have some sort of mixer tonight for dinner? What do you want to do?" She twirled a piece of hair between her fingers as her mouth fell into a pout.

Hell and damn. I wanted to pull her hair.

That's what Viagra does to you. It makes you think about doing things you shouldn't be doing during the daylight. Like asking if you can pull a woman's hair, just to see what her face would look like when you're doing it.

Her eyebrows pinched together

as she mouthed the restaurants and then bit down on her lip.

Never mind. I wanted to pull her hair and bite her lip. Or maybe I'd bite her lip first then pull her hair.

"Jace? Thoughts?"

"Sex," I blurted like a pubescent twelve year old.

"What?" The paper floated out of her trembling hands onto the bed.

Bed, bed, bed, my body taunted. Damn it!

I winced. "I'm glad we're going out instead of having, uh, sex?"

Yeah, she didn't believe me. Her mouth cracked into a silly grin as she crossed her arms and gave me a very judgmental look. So I said, "I'm a guy. I can't help it." Right, like that was a solid excuse. I may as well have pulled down my pants and pointed, "Look, me boy, you girl," and grunted.

"The Viagra making a comeback?" she teased.

"Yeah, let's blame it on the tiny blue pill crushed into my tea." I had a moment of panic when I wondered if Grandma had slipped anything else into there, like a stupidity pill, because I sure as hell wasn't earning points toward Mensa membership.

"Tell you what." Beth picked up the paper again. "You pick where we eat. After all this is my fairytale. I don't want to know all the surprises."

She had a hopeful look on her face, the same look girls get on Valentine's when they expect you to be the one guy to do something other than flowers or chocolate.

Smiling through my nervousness and intense need to impress her after the Viagra incident, I took the paper from her hands and examined it. All the restaurants sounded good. But good wasn't good enough. It was food. I wanted more than food, and I figured she did too. After all, how romantic can a person get over a hamburger and fries? Especially considering she hated fries? I should probably get to pull her hair for remembering that.

Tags: Rachel Van Dyken The Bet Romance
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