The Wager (The Bet 2)

Char smiled sweetly. “I forgot—you like fake… my mistake.”

“I—”

“Now!” Madame clapped. “close your eyes. I shall walk you through the dance, but you must trust me, you must trust one another.”

* * *

Char’s hands were perspiring. That one word, trust. It immediately thrust her back into junior high. When she and Jake had been doing the trust fall—when he promised he’d catch her—and he’d failed.

When she was called fat.

And he refused to defend her.

Char’s mom had always told her that she’d laugh about it someday, that the things that happen to you in junior high don’t hold any power over your life in adulthood. But she was wrong… When you’re hurt at such a vulnerable age it’s impossible to forget the hurt. Especially if that one hurt launched you into a two-year issue with bulimia and diet pills.

So, trust? No, she didn’t trust Jake Titus, because the last two times she had. He’d walked away from her.

“Trust,” Madame repeated. “And follow my hands.” Char felt a hand on her shoulder and then she was pushed forward into Jake’s arms. His breath hitched as her cheek came into contact with his firm chest.

“Now, Jake, step back,” Madame instructed. “And do the—Oh my, you do know how to dance, don’t you?”

Char opened her eyes just as Jake pushed her away and twirled her, then pulled her back into his frame, tipping her over his leg in a dip.

“Trust me.” He whispered as he turned her in his arms, causing her entire backside to be firmly pressed against his front.

He felt too good.

With another twirl she was facing him.

“Now,” Madame called. “There are a series of seven dips, be sure to twirl her out, dip on one side and—oh dear, heavens, child. Have you done the mating dance before?”

Jake blushed.

Char opened her mouth to ask the same thing, but he dipped her across his leg and then twirled her out, causing her to nearly stumble until with a tug, Jake had her firmly in his arms again; only this time her feet dangled above the ground.

Slowly, he released her as she slid down his body, feeling every damn muscle of his six-pack. She only knew it was there because she counted muscles as her body descended.

The music stopped.

Char looked into Jake’s eyes.

His lips parted as he leaned forward.

“Marvelous!” Madame clapped.

Char jumped back and wiped her hands on her jeans.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you, darling?” Madame winked at Jake and patted him on the butt, then turned to Char. “As long as you let him lead, for the day of the wedding you will be perfectly fine.”

Char nodded. “Are we done then?”

“Dancing is part of life. One is never done dancing.”

“Or mating,” Jake said helpfully.

Madame blushed and began fanning her face. “Would you care for some refreshments?”

Char might as well have been invisible.