The Dare (The Bet 3)

Travis nudged Jake. "Performance anxiety?"

"Hell no," I growled. "I think I was too drunk or—"

Wrong thing to say.

I got punched in the stomach again.

My stomach had dropped to my balls — well, at least I wasn't hungry anymore!

Travis swore. "Don't play games with her. Leave her alone. Let her have a relaxing time in Hawaii and be nice."

"I'm nice," I defended myself.

"You're a… politician." Jake made mock quotes. "That basically means it's your job to be nice and make everyone feel confident in your abilities, but I see through the bullshit.

I saw through it when you were after Char, and I see through it now. Leave. Her. Alone."

"Or what?" I sneered. Okay, so I wasn't actually going to do anything, but I was pissed they were threatening me.

"Oh that's easy." Travis stepped away, smirking at Jake as if they had this giant-ass secret I wasn't a part of. "You don't leave her alone, and we let you fend for yourself with that one." He pointed back to the cart where Grandma was currently thrusting her phone into the air and yelling.

"I have no service! Damn third-world country!"

I'd last five minutes alone with that woman before committing a federal crime. "Fine, but for your information, I was going to leave her alone anyway."

"Sure you were." Jake rolled his eyes. "That's why you've been staring at her ass for the past ten minutes."

Naturally, my eyes went directly where they weren't supposed to, and I was gifted with another hard slap to the stomach.

"Glad we understand each other." Travis smacked my cheek.

"Shit, you're like Grandma's mafia."

"She'd be one hell of a mob boss." Jake whistled, thrusting his hands into his pockets. "Oh, and by the way, have fun at dinner."

"Damn." Deflated, I watched as the group got on the cart and wandered down to baggage claim, leaving Beth, Grandma, and myself.

"Well!" Grandma clasped her hands. "Isn't this nice! Now, how about that dinner?"

Chapter Nine

"How long do you plan to keep this up?" the agent asked pointedly.

Grandma grinned and leaned forward over the metal table. "How long do you have, sugar?"

Beth

I was a blubbering idiot. The only explanation I had was PMS or something like it. Char and Kacey enveloped me in a few side hugs and told me men were asses. It helped. Kind of.

I could only assume they'd seen my fallen face and were trying to offer their support in any way possible, which to girls basically meant bashing on the guy in question until the crying girl stopped crying and started joining in.

But I didn't want to join in. Because, regardless of how harsh Jace had been with my feelings — at least he'd been honest.

Honest, I could do. It was the men who lied about who they were that really bothered me. I'd dealt with honest most of my adult life. I could work with it; logically I could explain it.

Maybe it was my hair.

I'd always been told the brown was too dull.