The Dare

Chapter Eighteen

"You say that the senator was… peaked?" The agent cleared his throat. "In what way?"

Grandma examined her nails. "In the same way you are when you lust over that blond agent who cuffed me."

"You're good."

"I'm Grandma." She beamed.

"We should send you to North Korea."

"Lovely people." Grandma nodded. "Just lovely."

Beth

Okay, so it's possible I wasn't really a republican. I was undecided. I was one of those people who hated making other people angry, so I just shrugged and told them I didn't pick sides. Which pissed people off even more because they said I had no backbone. But really, I hated that type of confrontation, and whenever the topic of politics was brought up, there was usually arguing, yelling, or both.

The ride back to the hotel was quiet.

Well, except for the donkey.

Hey, was it my fault I kept saying shit?

The poor thing hee-hawed himself hoarse, and I was pretty sure that Jace was ready to make a donkey sacrifice by the time we got back to the resort.

We only had a few minutes to change, so I took another quick shower, scrunched my hair, and threw on a white strapless sundress with tan wedge sandals. The packet Dr. Z had given us said that the only time we could express ourselves via different clothing was at dinner and on excursions. I took that and ran with it. I was already tired of my stupid linen pants and white shirt.

"Ready?" I breezed into the room, looking for Jace.

He was outside, leaning against the privacy fence, watching the ocean. His muscled back was to me, and it looked like he was smoking a cigar.

Holy Thor.

That was going to be my new curse word. Oh my Thor. Holy Thor. Good Thor! Yeah, I could get a lot of use out of that one.

His muscles rippled under the sun, and I may have swooned a bit on my feet as I watched, like the creepy boring person I was.

How the heck had boring-old-me convinced him to play the fairytale? Thank Thor, he did.

By my calculations I only had five days left.

Five days of him. And then reality.

So I watched, longer than was appropriate. And when he puffed on the cigar and blew out the smoke, I tasted his tongue on my lips.

People were rarely that good looking in person. Most actors were short, male models were skinnier than me, but Jace? He was every inch just as gorgeous, if not more so, in person.

Maybe when it came to Jace, I wouldn't be undecided, I'd probably march into the voting cubicle and freaking break the pencil while I checked the box by his name.

"Ready?" he said without turning around.

I nodded.

Idiot. He couldn't see me.

He turned.

His six-pack winked.

I waved.

"Beth?" Jace's eyebrows drew together in concern.

"Yes." I steered my eyes away from Jace's abs and managed to look him in the eyes. "I'm ready. Grab a shirt, and we'll get going."

"You don't want me shirtless?"

"No." I laughed. "I don't want to cause other women to fantasy cheat on their significant others. It would hardly be fair to the other men there to have you shirtless."

Red stained his cheeks before he quickly pulled a white t-shirt over his muscled chest.

Since when has linen looked hot on guys?

Oh right. Since Brad Pitt. Sorry, but you've just been replaced.

Jace grabbed my hand and kissed it. I tried not to sigh or look as nervous as I felt. Tonight felt more real. Maybe it was because we'd kissed a lot, or maybe it was because he seemed to actually be enjoying spending time with me.

It felt like a date.

Then again, anything would feel like a date after the whole sugarcane incident. I gave him another smile and tucked my excitement into the farthest part of my brain.

"So what restaurant is the mixer at?" Jace asked, "You never told me."

He gripped my hand as we rounded the corner toward Blu.

"Habachi Grill."

Jace put his arm protectively around me as he led me around a couple walking slower than us. And then grabbed my hand again. To him it was effortless.

But I'd never had a guy do that before. I'd seen it all around me. A guy being protective without realizing it. Or walking on the outside of the road so the girl is protected and safe. But experiencing it? Felt amazing. I felt… treasured. Crap. I needed to remember it wasn't real. He may be attracted to me, he could think I was the best thing since Netflix — but in the end, he wouldn't be waiting like Mr. Darcy.

"I love Habachi." Jace cleared his throat.

Okay, was it me or were things awkward? Was I overthinking things?

"Beth…" Jace stopped walking and turned me to face him, placing his hands on my shoulders. "I have to tell you something."

"Okay." My throat was seriously starting to close up. He was going to bail. He was going to say he couldn't do it. He was going to abandon me; I was too boring. I knew I should have kept talking. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I be interesting —

His hot mouth pressed against mine as his hands came around my head, pulling me into his kiss, sucking the panic right out of me.

"You look…" He shook his head and let out a string of curses. "Let me try this again." He grabbed my hands and looked down at them as our fingers intertwined. "You look absolutely… stunning."

I couldn't hide my smile.

Mars could probably see my smile.

And I couldn't care less.

"Thank you," I said finding my voice.

"No." Jace released my hands and tilted my chin so his lips were a breath away from mine. "Thank you."

"I don't understand?"

With a wink, he released my chin and grabbed my hand again as we continued walking.

"I love white."

"Okay?"

"And I love wedge heels."

"Aw, you know what wedge heels are. Well done."

He grimaced. "Don't tell anyone."

"I'll take it to my grave."

"You wore your hair in kinks."

"Kinks?" I laughed. "You mean in waves?"

He blushed and licked his lips. "Yeah, that's what I meant."

"Thought so."

Jace shook his head and wrapped his arm around me as the door was held open for us in the restaurant. "We have reservations under Brevik."

"Right this way, Senator." The waitress had dark cropped hair and a piercing in her nose; she looked about twenty years old, and I immediately wanted to trip her for looking at Jace longer than necessary. And how did she know he was a senator? I specifically called him Mr. Brevik not Senator Brevik? Was the guy that famous?

Doubtful, it was Oregon, not California.

Jace held out my chair. There were eight seats around the grill. I'd hoped it would be just me and Jace, but mixer made it sound like we had to mix. Which totally reminded me of college orientation where you run around playing silly games, trying to get to know people in your class. I hated mixer games; I always ended up being the awkward one or, worse yet, the boring one with no boxes checked on Get-to-Know-Me-Bingo.

The restaurant looked really empty. Maybe it wasn't going to be as packed as I'd thought? Hope died the minute I heard a familiar voice.

"So you guys made it?" Brett slapped Jace on the back and took a seat, leaving Paris to pull out her own chair. Poor soul struggled sitting in it because her spandex dress was so tight her legs wouldn't lift high enough. A nicer person would have helped.

I smirked.

Not because I wasn't nice.

But because she wouldn't take her whoring eyes off of Jace.

"Uh, yeah." Jace put his arm around me and tugged me close. "We thought a little food was necessary to keep going."

Would it kill him to be the smooth politician at least once today? I kicked him in the shin.

"Going?" Brett smirked.

"Like bunnies," I said without thinking. To be fair, I meant the Energizer Bunny, but that wasn't how it was understood.

Jace had just lifted a glass of water to his lips and started choking.

Brett's eyes narrowed as he took us both in.

"Good evening." A server approached with a cart of tea. "I'll be your server today. Your chef will be here momentarily."

"Bunnies, huh?" Brett smirked, ignoring the waitress, and his fiancée as well as the fact that the conversation had taken a downward turn into hell. May as well get comfortable, I didn't see things improving for at least a few hours.

"Yeah." I gripped Jace's arm, digging my nails into his skin; he yelped and put his water down.

"But enough about our very satisfying sex life… what have you guys been up to all day?"

"Searching," Brett smirked, "the Internet."

"Aw, shit."

I froze, momentarily thinking I was about to hear Donkey. Instead, my blood ran cold when I realized what Brett must have been searching. He knew it was a ruse. He knew we weren't together.

Rejection sucked.

I wanted to wallow.

How was it fair that the one guy who'd rejected me when I was in high school now thought I was a lying prostitute? Forget feeling insecure — now all I felt was shame.

"How much does she charge?" Brett asked calmly as he placed a napkin on his lap.

"Excuse me?" I seethed, reaching for a knife to stab him.

"For your services." Brett grinned smugly. "Not that I'm interested, since I really am happily engaged. Besides, I'm not a fan of disease."

Paris pulled out a nail file and began filing like the world was about to end if she didn't get rid of her chip and a hangnail.

I sighed. "Your definition of happy and mine are two very different things."

"You couldn't afford her," Jace snarled.

Okay, so not the rescue I was hoping for, but it worked.

"I've got money." Brett rolled his eyes. "And I wouldn't want her anyway."

"That's it." Jace stood and grabbed Brett by the collar. "Beth, we'll be right back. Brett and I are going to go have a little heart to heart and grab a few drinks, okay?"

"Sure." My hands trembled as they reached for the water glass.

"Welcome to Blu Hibachi!" A female voice all but shouted.

I looked up in horror.

There stood Grandma, giant-ass knife in hand, a black pantsuit, and a leopard scarf tied around her head.

"Should you…" I pointed, "have knives?" Or anything that could cause physical harm to herself or anyone standing within a foot of her?

"Of course." She threw the knife into the air. I almost passed out until she caught it with her other hand and winked. "I studied for years to learn the art of the Hibachi." She said Hibachi with way more emphasis on chi than I think the Japanese would say was appropriate. "Where's Jace?"

"Having a conversation." I sighed.

"With his fist," Paris interjected.

Oh wow, so airhead could speak. Nice.

"Fist?" Grandma began stacking vegetables and types of meats on the hot grill. The minute she threw oil on the heat, I was hit with a cloud of heat that should have singed eyebrows. "He's fighting someone?"

"Her fiancé." I pointed at Paris. "An old… friend."

"Please." Paris snorted. "He said you were like the nerdiest girl at his school, doubt that makes you friends."

I wasn't sure if I wanted to grab Grandma's knife and stab it into myself or just Paris.

She giggled.

Just kidding.

Paris. I wanted to stab Paris.

"You let Grandma handle these things." Grandma threw another knife into the air. "After all, this is your vacation, Beth, and you only have few days left."

"Of vacation." I finished.

"NO, you only have five days to make him realize what he's worked his entire life for is standing right in front of him. A Grandma knows these things."

"Grandma." I fought to keep the tears from rolling down my face. "I'm not that person. I'm not his penguin or lobster or whatever you want to call it. He's an island I'm lucky enough to be stranded on for the next few days, that's all."

"I sure hope not," Jace said from behind me. "I was hoping I was more than a damn island."

"What do you want to be?" I tried to sound like I was joking.

He gripped my face hard in his hands and kissed my mouth. "The world. I'd rather be the world."

Grandma cleared her throat.

Paris rolled her eyes and continued filing her nails at the freaking table. Seriously. Here's to hoping a piece of nail lands in her food and not mine because heads would roll if I crunched down on something that wasn't a carrot.

Besides, Jace had just said he wanted to be my world. I just about died as his words sank into my consciousness, healing cuts I never knew existed. "Where's Brett?"

"Oh, Brett." Jace grimaced. "He got sick."

Paris grabbed her purse. "Guess that's my exit then, huh?"

"Oh, he'll be back. I told him it would be wonderful to enjoy some dinner with him this fine evening."

My eyes narrowed.

Paris shrugged. "Fine, I'm going to use the restroom. If he gets back before I do, tell him I want something with shrimp."

Her heels clicked against the floor as she sauntered away, her ass nearly falling out of her dress.

I let out a breath of relief.

"Oops!" Grandma dropped some shrimp onto the floor. She picked it up and placed it back on the grill. Then she grabbed something out of her pocket and put a few drops in the sauce for the shrimp.

I smacked Jace, "Do something! She's drugging—"

I paused.

"You were saying?" Jace laughed. "Let her eat bad shrimp. See if I care. Technically, I can't kill the guy, but that doesn't mean I want to sit here and eat with them. The sooner Grandma gets rid of them the sooner we can romance."

"Romance? You're using it as a verb?"

He grinned, "It's an action."

"So now I get action."

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea."

My face fell. "He thinks I'm a prostitute, doesn't he?"

"No. He thinks what I tell him to think."

My head snapped up. "What did you do? Brain wash him?"

"Baby," Jace whispered in my ear, "sometimes being a politician has its uses. Brett's a weak man. My ploy had nothing to do with punching him in the face or lying to him. But everything to do with what I could get him. He thinks we're dating, and the story is a cover-up because of another scandal in my past."

"What did you have to do? To convince him."

"I paid him fifty grand."

My mouth dropped open.

"Geez, I'm kidding..." Jace chuckled, warm against my ear. "I told him I loved you."

My world plummeted. Had he no idea? That those three words had just shattered my entire existence? Because I wanted it to be real. And he just reminded me yet again that it wasn't.

"Hungry?" Grandma flipped a few pieces of clean shrimp onto our plates. "Eat up!"