Ready to Run (I Do, I Don't 1)

His smile is cool. “Done.”

“And if I lose?” I ask impatiently, wanting to get this over with.

“Jilted,” he says, his smile growing.

Dan groans. “Wes.”

I don’t look away from my friend, my brain trying to sort through why the word sounds familiar.

Then it hits me. “The reality TV show?”

Wes nods in confirmation.

I scoff. “You can’t be serious.”

Jilted isn’t some garbage guest spot—this is a career-ending farce. The producers of the new show have been after me for weeks, wanting me to be their runaway groom in a Bachelor-esque reality show.

I mostly ignored Dan when he dutifully told me about the opportunity, but the general gist is that the poor idiot they finally rope into it will spend a couple of months with two dozen women and end the show by fucking marrying one of them.

I get why I’m on their short list of candidates. The show takes the tacky of The Bachelor and kicks it into full trashy by focusing not just on single dudes but on guys with a reputation of leaving women….

At the altar.

And, yes, I qualify. I have two engagements and zero marriages under my belt.

Go ahead and judge. Everyone else does.

I wait for Wes to laugh and give me the real bet, but instead he just watches me, eyebrows raised in question.

“What the hell is your problem?” I snap, fed up with the game, both the one on the table and whatever the hell he’s been playing.

“No problem,” Wes says casually. “Just figured a show where women are literally dumped in your lap would be right up your alley. Gage Barrett gets what he wants, and it always comes easy, right?”

Layla’s face crosses my mind.

Fuck this.

“Deal the cards.”

“Gage,” Dan murmurs.

I ignore him, watching as Wes deals us each five cards. I’m not as worried as I should be. I’m well past due for a decent hand, and though I hate to validate Wes’s assessment, I do tend to get what I want.

Case in point. My hand: two kings, two jacks, and a nine.

I keep my face completely blank as I glance at Wes. His face too is impassive. It’s like I said, the guy’s a decent actor.

I toss down the nine. He slides another card across the table.

I pick it up, and the thump of my heart is my only reaction. I’m a good actor too.

King of hearts.

The asshole’s just dealt me a full house.

Wes deals himself two new cards. Picks them up, then meets my eyes as Dan and Jimmy look on warily. The women who were previously giggling on the couch over champagne have gathered around the table, although they’re all too Vegas-savvy to let on what they see from each of our hands.