The Bet by Max Monroe
Jude
Hands full with beer, I bang on the front door with my foot and wait for one of my family members to answer my call. After Winnie assigned me the role of Beverage Bitch for Uncle Brad’s birthday shindig, I went all out and got seven thirty-packs of beer, five cases of soda, a case of water, and a big jug of wine for the moms.
Evidently, something happens to women after giving birth that makes their bodies need wine to survive. At least, that’s what I’ve been told. I’m not sure what brand I got, but with these lushes, I figured quantity was better than quality. As it is, I’ll have to make several trips back to the trunk of my Audi A4 to get the remainder of the drinks. Living in the city, I don’t drive a ton, but knowing I’d be hauling this much stuff, using my car was a necessity.
When the door finally swings open, a woman I don’t recognize at all smiles and swings her arm gallantly into the house. She’s got a frisky little blond haircut and dark-brown eyes, but I don’t have one fucking clue who she is. I lean back to check the numbers on the house—yep, this is my mom’s place—and then glance back to her with furrowed brows.
“Hi,” she says then, smiling again, but this time, it’s a bit self-consciously.
“Uh, hi.” I want so badly to ask who the fuck she is, but when she reaches out to take the cases of beer from my arms, I think better of it. At least she’s helping, unlike the rest of my no-good family. “Stay here,” I tell her instead. “I’ve got more shit to carry.”
She nods, and I have to laugh as I walk the distance back to my car. You really never know what to expect at a Winslow gathering, I swear.
I grab another load and repeat the process, until finally, the mysterious blonde and I have all the drinks inside the front hallway. Feeling a little like we share a bond now, I’m just about to ask her name when my brother Ty comes strutting toward us, and she clings to him like a fucking magnet.
Ahh. Okay, now this is making sense.
Ty has brought yet another completely random woman to a family gathering, thus garnering false hope in her heart. At the latest, she’ll be gone by the weekend, wondering how things shifted so quickly from meeting the family to ending.
I shake my head. Poor fucking sap.
She has no clue that this isn’t special—that my brother hasn’t warmed to her with an unmatched connection. Unfortunately, bringing women around the family is just something he does for the fuck of it, I suppose. Truthfully, I don’t know the real psychology behind it, but that doesn’t change the facts. Ty Winslow is a serial dater with just as much contempt for commitment as the rest of us Winslow brothers, and that won’t be changing anytime soon.
“Thanks for the help,” I tell her, not bothering to ask her name.
Her voice is tentative and a little confused as she tells me I’m welcome, and I get it. I’m coming across as super rude, given the visual of what she thinks is going on. But to be honest, this is just par for the course with Ty, and the less I play into this girl’s hope, the better off she’ll be.
I shove Ty in the shoulder as a nonverbal gesture of how big of a fucking idiot he is, and he just smiles, the bastard. I roll my eyes and head down the hall toward the kitchen, the cluck of all the hens loud enough to invade my ears long before I get there.
My mom Wendy, my aunt Paula, my sister Winnie, and Aunt Paula’s longtime friend Bev all stand at the kitchen island, working on various food trays and laughing hysterically.
“Ladies!” I greet enthusiastically, throwing my arms in the air and soaking in all of their responding smiles.
They giggle as I work my way around their campfire, kissing them each on the cheek and even going so far as to give Bev a small slap on the butt. She’s a super-funny lady with a raspy, smoker’s-style laugh, widowed three years ago, and I like to keep the spice alive in her life. Wendy Winslow, of course, hates it quite a bit.
“Jude!” my mom chastises as Bev blushes, and Aunt Paula and Winnie both giggle some more.
“Sorry, sorry,” I apologize, lifting both of my hands in the air defensively. “I just can’t help myself.”
“I don’t mind,” Bev affirms, smiling like the cat who got the cream.
I wink, and the ladies dissolve in a titter again.
“God, please help my son,” my mom pretends to pray, lifting her eyes heavenward. “One day, I pray that he be blessed with impulse control.”
I chuckle and shake my head before placing another kiss on my mom’s cheek. “Sorry, Ma, but I don’t think it’s going to happen if it hasn’t already.”
“Get out of here,” Winnie says playfully, dropping her foodstuffs to shove me in the shoulder toward the back door. “You’re better off out at the grill with the men where there’s no code of conduct.”
I agree with a salute and a bow, and then tuck out the spring-loaded back door as quickly as possible. Trust me, those women are the light of my life, but I’m much better suited to hanging out with the men of the family any day of the week, even if it is cold enough to freeze my nuts off out there.
“Heyyy!”
“Yooo!”
“Jude!”
The guys all yell as I step out onto the porch, and Uncle Brad smiles at me before thumping his palm on the back of my head.
“Hey! What was that for?” I cry, scooting away quickly while Flynn and Remy both laugh ruthlessly at my expense. My brother-in-law Wes smiles but at least has the decency to keep his hilarity on the inside.
“For the gift you got me,” my uncle answers, shooting me with something red and lacy like it’s a slingshot. After a quick juggle, I hold it up curiously, and then I drop it like a hot potato when I discover it’s a women’s thong of unknown origin.
“Wha… I didn’t… That’s not… Uncle Brad!” I stammer, making Remy nearly choke on his beer as Ty comes walking out the back door to join us. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“Yeah,” Uncle Brad agrees. “I bet. You know, I think I might know what happened.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, swallowing nervously. No matter what, I don’t think there’s a good way for me to get out of this.
“Yeah. See, I think you deflected on the gift-picking altogether and expected your sister to get something for you. And, in a brilliant move of revenge, this is what she chose.”
I chuckle uneasily and glance to my three brothers as they laugh behind their beer bottles. I’m immediately suspicious. “What the fu—dge? Why am I the only one getting crucified?”
“Remy, Flynn, and Ty all got me gifts of their own. Nice ones,” Uncle Brad says, illuminating the depth of my siblings’ betrayal.
“I thought we had an understanding!” I exclaim at the traitors.
“We did,” Remy hedges while Ty snickers. “An understanding that we were all willing to let you bury yourself on this one.”
Ty reaches out to high-five him, and I lift up my middle finger, swinging it wildly toward them all. “I hate every single one of you.” I pause on Ty and give him another middle finger for good measure, emphasizing, “Especially you.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Give me a break, dude. Do you really not realize the torture you’re putting all these women through?”
His eyebrows draw together, and he laughs. “You mean Stephanie?”
I shrug hugely. “I don’t have a clue, dude. I don’t know her name because we never know their names. Why do you always insist on bringing these randos to family shit?”
“What? I’m not supposed to bring women I’m dating to family get-togethers now?”
Even Flynn scoffs at that. “Come on, Ty. You’re not dating her. Sleeping with her, maybe.”
“All right, all right. Enough,” Uncle Brad interrupts. “And Ty, bring whomever you want. I, for one, have actually started to get some enjoyment out of it.”
Remy, Flynn, Wes, and I look at Uncle Brad curiously, and he just shrugs.
“What? Paula and I started a running pool for names. I get five dollars if I’m closest alphabetically.”
“You and Aunt Paula gamble over me?” Ty bellows, and we’re all mid-laugh as Winnie walks out the door with a tray of hamburger patties to throw on the grill.
For some reason, though, Ty locks on to me as the brother to strike back at. Which, honestly, probably isn’t a bad idea. I am two years younger than him and a much better sport than our elder brothers, Remy and Flynn. The two of them would probably grind his nuts up and eat them for breakfast if he tried to throw down with them.
“What about you, Jude?” Ty asks snidely. “Dip your wick in anything of consequence lately?”
Winnie smacks the back of his head soundly, but years and years of demented sibling torture between the five of us have conditioned Ty’s pain response into nothing more than a chuckle. It’s impressive, really, that kind of compartmentalization while under physical attack.
“Can’t say that I have, Ty. Just living the casual life the best I can.”
Remy and Flynn nod, both taking swigs of their beers, and Winnie rolls her eyes. After this much time with the four of us as single bachelors, I can’t imagine our baby sister expects anything else. Still, I know she’s found her supposed happily ever after or whatever with Wes Lancaster, so there’s a certain amount of desire to spread the joy that runs through every woman’s veins.
I clear my throat as their laughter dies down, and the vision of the most interesting brunette woman I’ve ever encountered enters my mind.
It’s probably not the best idea I’ve ever had to bring this kind of dirty laundry to a family party, but hell, I’ve never been the type to hold anything back, I guess.
“I, uh, did meet a pretty interesting woman last weekend at the new club.”
“Really?” Winnie asks, her voice undeniably hopeful.
I lift the corner of my mouth into a pseudo-smile as I admit, “Well, yeah. I mean, she was the bride in a group there for a bachelorette, but she was interesting.”
Ty’s body folds in half as laughs overcome his muscles, and Remy’s and Flynn’s eyebrows shoot to their hairlines. Wes lets his head fall back toward his shoulder blades, his eyes closing in pain, and Uncle Brad just shakes his head and turns back to the grill.
“Nooo,” Winnie cries, sinking her head into her hands. “Tell me you didn’t, Jude. Please tell me you didn’t.”
“I didn’t,” I comfort, hedging, “At least, not really.”
“What in the hell does that mean, bro?” Remy interjects.
“Either you did or you didn’t. Right? What am I missing?” Ty says, looking around at everyone for an explanation that only I can give.
“I didn’t sleep with her. We danced. Flirted a little, maybe. That’s it.”
Oh yeah, and she orgasmed while I was dancing for her, too.
“Promise me you won’t mess with a married woman, Jude!” Winnie exclaims then, nearly coming out of her skin. “I do not want to have to disown you!”
“Relax,” I assure her gently. “I don’t expect I’ll ever see her again, sis.”
I picture her body and her lips and the sound of her breath leaving her as she orgasmed on the floor of the VIP room stage beneath me. And then I picture her in a wedding dress, marrying some other dude.
Nah. Even fate wouldn’t be that cruel. Green-eyed Belle is nothing but a flash in the past.