The Wager (The Bet 2)

“Grandma, I hate to ask—”

“Then don’t!” The phone went dead.

Jake cursed and put it in his front pocket. “Something tells me we shouldn’t go in.”

Ignoring him, Char opened the door. “Come on, grow a pair. It’s just a drug store. She could have gotten them a gift card or something and needed us to pick it up.”

Jake thought he should really learn to listen to that inner voice. You know, the one that screams May Day! or Red Alert! when you’re walking into a trap. Everything about going into the drug store screamed trap.

Instead of listening to his inner voice, he ignored it altogether, mainly because Char was walking in front of him and he found himself hypnotized by the sway of her hips. He could do nothing less than follow.

But he really should have stayed where he was.

He knew that the minute they walked into the store and he introduced himself.

“Oh!” Bob, the manager, held out his hand. “We’ve been waiting for you! Now I think I have everything your grandmother needed right here for that wedding night!” He winked.

Jake cringed.

Char looked into the basket.

She really shouldn’t have.

Bob, thinking she couldn’t see, dumped the contents of the basket onto the counter.

“Now.” Bob cleared his throat. “Your grandmother has expressed interest in grandchildren. This is the top of the line fertility test. It will of course show when the lovely lady…” he waved at Char, then looked back at Jake, “will be ovulating. Do you know how to use one of these, miss?”

Char’s eyes widened with horror. Her mouth opened and closed.

Jake laughed nervously. “She uh, I mean we will… figure it out.”

Char gave him a look that said over my dead body will we be figuring anything out together. But otherwise she said nothing.

“Now these.” Bob pulled out a box of condoms and waved them in the air. “Oh wait, no that’s not right; they’re the wrong size.”

“We’ll take them.” Jake tried to put the condoms back in the basket but Bob jerked them away just in time.

“Now, young man.” Bob shook his finger in Jake’s face. “You know as well as I do how irresponsible it is to wear a condom that doesn’t exactly fit. Your grandmother and I have been over all your… issues. You need the right size—”

“Perfect!” Jake interrupted, feeling his face heat. “Those are perfect.” He reached for the box but Bob pulled it away and then called in to the intercom.

“Yeah, Stacey, can you run back to aisle three and grab the extra small Trojan box? A customer needs them.”

Good Lord above.

He was going to murder his grandmother.

Jake laughed nervously. “No really, it’s a joke. My grandmother’s joking. I’m not really… I mean, that’s not actually true. I’m not that size; I’m, I’m…” Well shit, what was he supposed to say?

Panicked, he looked to Char for help.

She snickered, then batted her eyelashes at Bob. No. Not a chance in hell she would throw him under the bus like that.

“Jake.” She purred, looping her arm within his. “We’ve talked about this at great length.” Shitty choice of words. “And we’re in agreement. You need to come to terms with your body image. Everyone has their… little, tiny, miniscule, shortcomings. Wouldn’t you say, Bob?”

“I do not have a small p—”

“Here they are!” A girl in her mid-twenties approached the register with the small box and glanced at Jake, then her eyes widened. “Jake? Jake Titus?”