The Love Wager by Lynn Painter

            She picked up her own luggage, pulled out the room key, and said to Jack, “Shall we go get settled in, baby?”

            He looked like he wanted to smile at the endearment they both knew she would never use for him, and he said, “It would be my absolute pleasure.”

            As they walked into the hotel, he quietly said, “Is Scarf the ex-douchebag?”

            “Yes.” She started laughing, so glad she’d brought him. “Scarf is.”





Jack


            “I’ll just call the front desk.” Hallie dropped her bags and walked to the phone on the nightstand. She pressed the zero key and said with a laugh, “But this is hilarious. I don’t know that I’ve ever heard of this actually happening in real life.”

            Jack watched her kick back on the king-sized bed, twirling the phone cord like everything was fine. “You’ve never heard of a reservation getting screwed up?”

            “I’ve never heard of an only-one-bed trope actually happening.” She rolled her eyes at him and said, “It’s a romance novel thing. You know, two people forced to sleep together in one bed because there’s no other option . . . ?”

            His collar felt tight. “That is ridiculous.”

            She rolled over onto her stomach and muttered, “You’re ridiculous. Oh, hi. My name is Hallie Piper, and I’m up on . . .”

            As she spoke to the front desk associate, Jack set down his suitcase and walked over to the window. The room was amazing—stone fireplace, overstuffed reading chairs, wood floor with a thick rug, king-sized bed—but the view from the balcony was even better.

            He opened the door and stepped outside. The Rocky Mountains filled the horizon, a breathtaking panorama, and a wide, clear stream gurgled below with a thick border of yellow aspens on either side.

            He braced his arms on the railing and took a deep breath of Colorado air.

            “I have good news and bad news.”

            Jack heard her step out onto the balcony, but he didn’t turn around. “Of course.”

            “The good news,” she said, wrapping her arms around him and leaning her cheek against his back, “is that we don’t have to move to a room on the third floor.”

            Jack could feel every tiny movement of her fingers on his chest, could feel her voice rumble soothingly against his skin. He swallowed and managed, “Nice.”

            He looked down at the ten pink fingernails that were spread out on his chest. Fuck.

            “But the bad news,” she said, kind of giggling as she spoke, “is that we have to stay in this room.”

            “What?” He turned around and stared down at her face. She looked startled by his reaction, and her hands fell to her sides as he said, “You’re telling me they can’t find a single room?”

            She blinked. “Well, they do have a couple of rooms, but they’re on the third floor.”

            He said, “So let’s move.”

            “By my family.”

            “So?” he asked.

            “So we just made a whole big thing about wanting a private sex room.”

            She was seriously going to kill him with her Hallie-ness. He sighed and said, “We never said anything about a sex room, for the love of God.”

            “It was implied,” she said, as if he were the ridiculous one. “So how do I explain the change of heart? We didn’t want to have wild sex in the same bed, we like to use two? We prefer to sleep separately after we bang?”

            “Will you stop saying ‘bang’?”

            “You don’t like ‘bang’?” She smirked and said, “You, Jack Marshall, don’t like ‘bang.’ That’s right; you prefer ‘jostling’ and ‘railing.’ ”

            He sighed. “No one will have to know we’re down there.”

            “They’ll know,” she said.