The Wager (The Bet 2)

“Women are weird. I’m talking about biting every square inch of your body and you want to talk about my grandma? Really?”

“Travis.”

“Kacey.” He nibbled her lower lip and then kissed her nose. “We’ll beat her at her own game. If she wants to play matchmaker, we’ll just play matchmaker ourselves.”

“You mean, like, set Jake up ourselves? And see who wins?”

“Absolutely.”

“I like that idea.” Kacey wrapped her arms around Travis’s neck. “After all, we know what’s best for Jake.”

“The monastery?”

Kacey snorted. “Probably. At any rate, we can invite some single girls to the wedding, ones that would really click with him.”

“A wager.” Travis nodded. “Between us and Grandma. We win, she pays for the honeymoon. She wins…”

“She can sing at the wedding,” Kacey sighed.

“No!” Travis touched his forehead to hers. “I’m not that insane. I’d rather buy her a boat or pay for her stripper workouts every week.”

“It’s what she wants.”

“She also wants to buy a tiger like Mike Tyson. Just because she wants something doesn’t mean we have to indulge her.”

“Travis.” Kacey kissed his lips softly. “There’s nothing to worry about; it’s not like she’ll win.”

Grunting, Travis kissed her head. “Fine, but if Grandma does win and she ends up with a microphone, it’s on you. Now, let’s finish our last mile so I can have my way with you in the shower.”

“Gotta catch me first!” Kacey yelled as she breezed past him.

Chapter Ten

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Jake stared at the building with a mixture of horror and confusion. “We have to have the wrong address.”

Char snatched the piece of paper from his hands. “Let me look.”

“I can read, you know.”

Rolling her eyes, she scanned the paper. “Unbelievable.”

“What?” He leaned over her shoulder to look at the address. Her scent pulled at him, making his insides tense.

“That you can read.”

“Very funny.”

“It’s the right address.” Char slapped the paper against his chest and walked up to the dark door. “I guess we just… go in?”

“Hell, no.” Jake crossed his arms. “Not gonna happen.”

“The list says that Madame is expecting us at one! We’re going to be late if we don’t go in.”

Jake licked his lips and looked at the building again. The windows were filled with pictures of women laughing and throwing confetti into the air while men danced with them. It was like a very bad tampon commercial gone wrong.

“No. And who the hell is Madame anyways?”

Char rolled her eyes. “It’s her name. Why, you scared you’re gonna grow a pair of boobs? You afraid your balls are gonna disappear?”