The Love Wager by Lynn Painter

            The meal was finally served, but she wasn’t even hungry. She was too . . . antsy to eat. She mindlessly participated in dinner conversation, and she was beyond grateful that Jack had swapped their seats, because Chuck and Jamie were keeping him entertained, so Hallie was able to silently spiral in peace.

            I was *this* close to begging her to go back to the room with me.

            “Hal.”

            “Huh?”

            Jack was looking at her questioningly. His blue eyes searched her face for something and apparently didn’t find it, because he said, “Come outside with me for a sec?”

            Her heart started pounding in her chest and she just nodded.

            “We’ll be right back,” he said to the table as he linked his fingers tightly between hers and led her out of the room and into the hallway. Her mind was spinning, but she couldn’t think of anything specific, which was bizarre. She just felt . . . nervous . . . ?

            He didn’t take her outside, didn’t stop until he reached an unlabeled closet. He pulled open the door, led her inside, then closed the door behind them. The closet smelled like a mix of bleach and clean laundry, and it was dark except for the tiny bit of light coming through the door vents.

            She could barely see his face.

            “What are you doing?” she said as he turned so her back was against the door.

            “Why are you freaking out, Hal?” he said, his voice deep and a little husky in her ear.

            She wanted to deny it, but this was Jack. He knew her too well. Her breathing felt shallow as she said, “I don’t actually know.”

            She could smell whiskey when he spoke. “Does it have to do with what I said about begging you to go back to the hotel room?”

            She swallowed. “I mean—”

            “I knew our games were a bad idea.” She could feel the closeness of his body, even though they weren’t touching, and he said, “I’m not losing you over sex. For the rest of the weekend, I think we should fake date without any of the PDA bullshit.”

            Disappointment surged through her; his suggestion was kind of the opposite of what she’d been thinking. She said, “Well, wait a minute—that’s a little rash, don’t you think?”

            He chuckled darkly in her ear. “Then what do you suggest?”

            “Um,” she said, not wanting to give up the intimacy they’d shared since arriving in Colorado, “maybe we just set a hard and fast rule about sex.”

            “That it has to be hard and fast?” he growled, and she felt his teeth on her earlobe.

            “You know what I mean, perv,” she said in a near-whisper.

            “I do.” He nuzzled his nose against her neck, his breath streaking over her skin. “We solemnly swear not to have sex this weekend, no matter how many times you bite me.”

            “Exactly.” She laughed. “And no matter how nice your calves are.”

            He lifted his head. “My calves?”

            “I’m so distracted by them, you don’t even know,” she confessed.

            He started laughing, and the sound filled the darkness.

            “We should probably go back now,” Hallie said, not wanting to but knowing her mother and sister wouldn’t put up with her absence for long. “I’m sure someone will be giving a toast soon.”

            “Wait.” His phone lit up the darkness, and she heard his message send before her phone buzzed.

            She pulled it out of her pocket.

            Jack: Since we’ve doubled down on this weekend being a one-off, can I kiss you?

            She stared at the text for a long moment, wondering how to respond, and then she turned off her phone and slid it back into her pocket. She said, “We’ve kissed multiple times since you picked me up this morning. You’re asking permission now?”

            The hard line of his jaw was caught in the light of his phone. “I’m not asking as your fake boyfriend.”