The Dare (The Bet 3)

"Not feeling snappy," he said dryly.

I slapped him. I never said I was good with emotions.

"What the hell was that for?"

"Singing Katy Perry." I grinned, "Now snap to it, Mr. Senator. We've gotta make it out of this hotel without that skinny bitch reporting it on the evening news."

"Grandma?"

"The reporter."

"You understand my confusion," he added, just as someone knocked on the door. "Stay here."

"It feels like a bad movie," I whispered to myself as I chewed the nail polish off my thumb.

"Shit." Jace looked through the peephole and then said shit about five more times before slowly opening the door.

Why was he so upset? Why the hell would…

"Aw, shit." I repeated. Because there really wasn't any other word that existed in the English language that would fit as well.

So I repeated it again.

As did Jace.

Grandma shrugged and pulled off her sunglasses. "Let the fun begin!"

Chapter Four

"Yes. I'm secure in my masculinity, and for the last time, dogs cannot speak."

"That's what Jake said."

"Jake?"

Grandma nodded. "He doubted me once. But never again."

The FBI agent was silent for a moment then asked, "Did you kidnap him too?"

"No, but I did almost kill him. I had the shovel and everything."

Coffee spewed out of the agent's mouth. "Murder?"

"Luckily, when I petitioned God, He said He'd take care of it. Want to know what He said about you?"

Jace

Memories of my gold-digging fiancée, Kerry. Dead memories, ones I'd killed off with a bottle of Jack — threatened to surface. She'd only used me for my position, and when I found out about her inability to keep her clothes on, she'd gone to the news and turned the story on me.

My reputation almost hadn't survived. And my heart hadn't ever been the same. My tie felt too tight, the room too small. Luckily, Beth kept me from hanging myself, and for a moment I enjoyed it.

The feel of her hands on mine.

The promise that someone actually cared more about me than my pocketbook or ability to buy them things.

But mostly, the concern that etched around her face when she was helping me. People weren't usually concerned with my feelings. I was a politician; meaning I didn't have feelings, just opinions that only forty percent of the population in Oregon actually agreed with.

Maybe I was projecting past memories onto her present person. Who knows what type of person she was now? The girl from high school could be long gone, for all I knew. Hell, I wasn't the same person anymore, and I partially blamed her for it. Beth had made me believe in magic, until the accident changed it all.