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- R. L. Mathewson
Double Dare Page 6
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“I know,” she said, dropping the rest of her pizza on her plate and placed it on the box.
“You’ve been in love with this man for your whole life, Goose,” he said softly, using the nickname that her grandparent’s tribe had come up with for her after a rather unfortunate incident involving several geese, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and her determination to feed them when she was three years old.
She nodded, because he was right of course. She was in love with Darrin Bradford. For the longest time she’d fought it, tried to deny it, but at the end of the day, she knew that there was no denying that she loved him. He was the love of her life and always would be, which made things worse because she wasn’t good enough for him.
And she never would be.
“Tell him, Goose. It’s not going to change anything for him. He’s still going to want to marry you,” Jake said, placing his plate on the pizza box so that he could reach over and take her hand in his.
“I know it won’t,” she said, sniffling.
“So, tell him.”
“No.”
“Why not?” he asked, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Because I love him too much to do that to him,” she said, accepting the napkin that he was holding out to her and quickly wiped her mouth.
“He has the right to make that decision for himself.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head, “he doesn’t. I don’t want him giving up his dreams for me.”
For several minutes neither one of them said anything as they sat there, thinking things over until finally, Jake said, “Then it’s time that you let him go.”
“I know,” she reluctantly admitted, because what she was doing wasn’t fair to either one of them. She had to let him go.
She just wasn’t ready to do that yet.
Chapter 5
“It’s gotta be a trap,” his twin brother said as they stood there, staring down at the small stack of Black Jack’s pizza boxes that they’d discovered hiding in his normally barren refrigerator twenty minutes ago.
“I know,” Darrin said, staring down at the boxes and damning Marybeth to hell and back for teasing them like this.
“Didn’t you double dare her to go on all those rides?” Reese asked, swallowing nervously as he glanced around the large kitchen.
“Yes,” he admitted hollowly, wondering what kind of sick person could do something this.
“They’ve gotta be empty,” Reese said, shifting his attention back to the boxes.
“No,” he said, shaking his head slowly, “they were heavy.”
“What are you thinking?” Reese asked, poking the box with a butter knife. “A diuretic?”
“It could be anything,” he said, folding one arm over his chest while he cupped his chin in a thoughtful manner with his other hand.
“Maybe we should just throw them away,” Reese suggested, but they both knew that neither one of them would be able to do that.
There were just some things that you didn’t do, and throwing away Black Jack’s pizza was one of them.
“Just try it,” he said, hoping that his brother would man up and get it over with so that they could end this bullshit.
Reese shook his head, assuming a similar pose as he continued to study the box. “You first.”
“No fucking way,” he said, having absolutely no desire to willingly accept Marybeth’s revenge.
“I double dare you to do it,” Reese said, which was really fucking sad.
“That only works coming from Marybeth,” he reminded his brother.
“Why?” his brother asked, frowning as he tore his gaze away from the boxes to glare at him.
“Because you refused to play the game when it started.”
Reese snorted. “I wasn’t going to eat that fucking shit. That was disgusting.”
Darrin chuckled as he returned his attention to the box. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“They admitted you to the ICU for a month!” Reese said, looking just as horrified as he had that fateful Sunday afternoon when Darrin had followed through with Marybeth’s first double dare and ate the entire bowl of penicillin covered worms.
“It was just a bad reaction to the worms,” he said, waving it off.
“Then this should be a walk in the park for you,” Reese said, gesturing towards the boxes.
“Eat a slice or get the hell out,” he told his brother, hoping to cut the shit and get this over with.
“No,” Reese simply said, using the butter knife to pop the cover open on the top box, revealing-
“Oh, fuck no,” he said, swallowing hard when he realized what they had in front of them.
“A Monster,” Reese said, licking his lips hungrily as they stared down at the pizza in front of them.
“Four slices are missing,” he pointed out, moving closer to examine the pizza for any obvious signs of tampering.
“She did that to fuck with our heads,” Reese said, coming closer to examine the pizza as well. They examined the pizza from every angle, looking for anything that would give away Marybeth’s sick and twisted plans for him.
“I bet there’s nothing wrong with the pizza,” he said, chuckling.
“You’re probably right,” Reese agreed, matching his chuckle, but didn’t make a single move to go for that pizza, he noted.
“Then try a slice,” he said, gesturing to the pizza.
Reese narrowed his eyes on him. “You.”
“No, you,” he snapped, wondering why his brother was being so damn difficult about this.
“Just eat a slice!”
“You eat a slice!”
“You!”
“You!”
For another minute, they glared at each other. Waiting for the other to back down and give in, but they both knew that would never happen without a little physical prompting. With a nod of understanding, they pushed away from the kitchen island, stepped to the side and with a bored sigh, they did what they had to do.
*-*-*-*
Perhaps she should have said no when Uncle Jared called earlier to see if she could start the old Mason mansion project tonight. A moment later when she opened her truck door and moved to climb out only to wince as every muscle in her body screamed in protest she decided that there was no maybe about it. At the very least she should have waited until tomorrow when she had her crew to help carry everything inside and prepare the house.
Instead, she’d carried over twenty five-gallon buckets of primer to several different locations, most of them up to the third floor of the large mansion. Then, because she really was an idiot, she’d carried in the heavy drop cloths, ladders and all the equipment that they were going to need to paint the interior of the freshly renovated mansion and placed them where they would be needed tomorrow morning.
Six hours later she was sore, exhausted and starving, but at least she wasn’t on the verge of crying about this hopeless situation any longer. Well, tonight she wasn’t. Every time she felt like she was in danger of crying, she’d pushed herself harder and harder until all she could think about was how heavy those damn buckets and ladders were. It’s hard to focus on anything else when your arms felt like they were going to fall off.
Somehow she managed to climb out of her truck and shut her door without screaming in pain. It took her twice as long as it usually did, but she managed to drag her ass to the front door and let herself inside. When she didn’t see Darrin, she counted herself lucky. Groaning softly as she tried to work out the stiffness in her shoulders, she walked into her apartment, tossed her keys on the small table by the door and made herself walk up the stairs, whimpering pathetically with each and every step.
By the time she’d made it to the second floor, she was more than ready to call it a night and curl up into a ball on the landing and stay there until her alarm clock went off and forced her to get up so that she could crawl in her room and beat the shit out of it. But she knew that if she didn’t go pop a few Advil and a take an excruc
iatingly hot shower now that she’d regret it in the morning.
She walked into her room, slapped her hand against the wall, leaned over and started the long, tedious process of untying her work boots. Once she had the left boot off, she dropped it with a grunt and worked on removing the other one. Once that was done, she let out another pathetic groan and headed towards the bathroom, stripping her clothes off along the way.
She turned on her shower, turning it all the way up, grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and forced the muscles in her arm to work. Five minutes later, she was closing her eyes and savoring the hot water as it helped soothe her aches and pains. It felt so good, but all too soon the water started to cool off.
With a sigh of disappointment, she shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. She dried off with a towel and then wrapped it around herself so that she could comb out her long hair. Biting back a yawn, she grabbed a bottle of lotion and walked into her bedroom, dropping the towel along the way, letting it hit the floor with a mental promise to pick it up in the morning.
She pumped some lotion into her hand and placed the bottle on her nightstand. Rubbing the lotion between her hands, she began rubbing it all over her body, moaning softly as she worked the last of the tension out of her muscles.
Once she was done, she reached over, switched off her light and crawled in bed. She curled up on her side, closed her eyes and released a sleepy sigh as she settled in for the night before she muttered, “Get the hell out.”
A warm chuckle teased her ear, making her shiver as Darrin wrapped his large arm around her and pulled her closer. “I was wondering when you’d get around to kicking me out,” he said, kissing her shoulder.
“Now you know,” she said around a yawn, “so get out.”
He kissed her neck. “Turn over.”
Oh, God…
It actually frightened her how badly she wanted to do just that. She usually loved how he could drive her crazy with just a few words, a look, a smile or a simple kiss to her shoulder, but not right now. Right now she just wanted to pass out and stay that way until it was time to drag her ass out of bed and go to work.
“I can’t,” she mumbled, whimpering a bit at the end there.
“You can, sweetheart,” he said soothingly as he gently pulled and shifted her a bit until she found herself draped over him.
She was too tired to push away from him and crawl back to the safety of her side of the bed. Instead, she lay there, whimpering as she waited for him to say or do something that was going to leave her begging for more. God, she hated being this weak.
“J-just make it quick,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt her body start to respond to the large erection pressed against her stomach.
He chuckled as he kissed her forehead. “Shhhh, just relax, sweetheart,” he said in that damn soothing tone of his that made it difficult to keep her eyes open.
It didn’t exactly help when he started to run his hands over her back and shoulders. God, it felt so good being in his arms, she thought sleepily as she felt herself start to drift off.
“What did you do to the pizza?” he asked softly, pressing another kiss to her forehead as his hands continued to work their magic, lulling her into a deep sleep.
“Hmmmmm?”
“The pizza that you left in my fridge,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “What did you do to it?”
“The pizza?” she mumbled, trying to focus.
“The pizza that you left in my refrigerator, sweetheart. What did you do to it?” he asked with another kiss that made her very happy.
“Black Jack pizza?” she mumbled with a frown.
“Mmmhmmm,” he murmured, rewarding her with another kiss.
“Nothing.”
“Are you sure?” he asked after a slight hesitation.
“Mmmhmmm,” she murmured, shifting to get more comfortable and so that she could press a kiss against his chest.
“Good,” he whispered with another kiss, sounding relieved.
“I coated the half eaten candy bar that I left on my kitchen table with Ex-Lax though,” she explained around a yawn. He really did make a comfortable mattress, she thought absently as she noted the exact second that her words registered.
“What are you-oh, shit!” he said, gently shoving her off so that he could crawl off the bed with his hand pressed against his stomach and make a run for her bathroom.
“I took all the toilet paper out of the bathroom before I left,” she informed him on a pleased little sigh as she curled up on her side.
“Shit!” he groaned, stumbling towards her bedroom door.
She opened her mouth to tell him that she’d taken it upon herself to remove all his toilet paper from his bathroom as well, but decided against it. He’d figure out the extent of her revenge soon enough, she mused as she blindly reached back and grabbed his pillow so that she could hug it.
Delayed revenge really was the best, she decided with a smile.
Chapter 6
“Rot in hell, you son of a bitch!”
“You had it coming and you know it,” Reese said as he climbed out of his cruiser and joined him on the sidewalk.
“I should have known that you were going to take her side,” he muttered as he reached up and pressed the switch on his collar to turn his microphone on. “Echo 25 and 32 are on scene,” he said before releasing the switch.
“Echo 25 and 32, I have you on scene at 32 Thompson Road at 11:22. Over,” Dispatch said, marking their arrival on scene.
“Don’t try to drag me into your fucked up relationship,” Reese said as they started up the long walkway.
Darrin snorted at that, because really, of all people Reese had no business talking about fucked up relationships. Not only was he dating the biggest bitch that Darrin had ever met, but he also planned on marrying her. God, he couldn’t stand Missy. No one in their family could.
On top of being a bitch, she was annoying, vindictive, catty, a liar and incredibly fake. He wasn’t sure what he hated more about her, that fake smile she slapped on her face anytime that she saw someone that she hated or the whole “poor me” bullshit she was constantly spouting.
She worked as an artist. Well, “worked” might be a bit generous considering that she was mooching off Reese. She spent most of her time sleeping, shopping or bitching on Facebook about everyone that refused to see how truly gifted she was. From what he’d heard, she bitched about him a lot.
Not that he cared. He didn’t, because he knew this fucked up relationship wasn’t going to last much longer. He’d admit that he’d been a little worried there for a while, especially when Reese let her move in. When Reese proposed a few months ago, he’d known that it was only a matter of time before that bitch was out of their lives once and for all because of one simple reason.
Bradford men didn’t propose.
Before a Bradford could take a trip to the altar, he had to lose his fucking mind. Kidnapping your bride was a Bradford tradition and Reese wasn’t willing to risk a felony to marry Missy. Darrin on the other hand…
Was more than willing.
He’d already attempted to kidnap Marybeth once before when he was ten. If Aidan hadn’t broken the wheels off his old Red Ryder wagon, she would already be his. Now thanks to his brother’s inconsideration, he had to take a different approach with Marybeth. She didn’t want to date, live together, get married or have a family. That made things a bit tricky for him, because he wanted all of those things and more with her.
Not that he was going to let any of that get in his way, because he wasn’t. Sure, he could drag her across state lines and marry her and in time she’d realize that it had been for the best, but he really didn’t want to risk needing a testicular-reattachment surgery to make it happen. Besides, she was already his so he didn’t see any point rushing this.
“What floor are we going to?” Reese asked as they stepped inside the large office building.
“The eleventh flo
or,” he said as they joined the small group