I doubted anyone would mind the rippled six pack currently facing me in all its model-like glory.
"Beth?" Jace smirked. "You awake or are you sleepwalking?"
My head snapped up to his amused eyes. "Awake. Sorry, what was the question?"
"Cookies?" Jace smirked. "You cried into a box of them last night."
I officially want a do-over. I lose my virginity to a dirty politician, and I cried into a box of cookies? Where's the justice, God! The fairness! The—
"I think there's some left over in the corner." He pointed to the minibar.
Suddenly ravenous, I stalked over, still half-naked, mind you, and grabbed the small box. Great, so I officially consumed half my body weight of something that I know will most likely give me cancer in five to seven years. Stellar. I threw the box onto the ground. "I'm not so hungry."
"You should be after all that exercise."
"Excuse me?" I whipped around so fast that I had to steady myself with the mini-fridge.
Jace grabbed a shirt and threw it over his toned and tanned body. "Easy, Beth, not what I meant." His eyes twinkled with amusement.
Ha, this was me, amused. I kept my frown firmly in place and even put my hands on my hips to show my disapproval.
With a wink, Jace grabbed the half-empty box, pulled a cookie out, and dangled it in front of my face. "You were hungry. I told you to eat a cookie. You said no."
"So?" I shrugged.
"So, your reason for saying no was because you didn't get a workout in, so I offered to—"
"Pretty sure I know where that story ends." I held up my hand.
"Right."
Jace ate the dangling cookie and then another, making my mouth water. Dirty rotten Clinton-lover!
"But, you turned me down. Said squats are just as good as… you know." He cleared his throat. "So you proceeded to—" He waved the cookie in the air and smirked.
"Please," I bit my lip and closed my eyes. "Please tell me I didn't do a naked workout in order to eat cookies."
"Okay." He ate another cookie and headed toward the bathroom.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the shower turn on.
I was about five seconds away from going into the fetal position when he called out, "You ate five cookies and, according to your extraordinary math, decided that thirty squats per cookie equaled to the caloric intake, though you did keep sputtering some sort of nonsense about how exercise doesn't kill cancer, and then you said a whole bunch of shit and finally passed out after yelling, Die, mutated cells, die." Much laughter followed. "Oh, and you thrust your fist into the air. I think you were trying to be dramatic."
And utter silence.
And I wanted to die.
"That's what you get for waking up in Vegas." A voice sang from the shower.
Great and now he was mockingly singing Katy Perry.
Things could not get worse.
Chapter Two
"Guilty?" The FBI agent sighed heavily and reached for his coffee. "You do realize you'll be going to prison."
Grandma shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time I've gone to the slammer for the greater good."
"The greater good?" the man asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Why yes. I served a few months in a Russian prison after The Cold War. I was a spy and was guilty of poisoning a government official. Then again, they could never prove it. I'd slipped something into his mouth during a heated kiss." She reached into her leopard purse. "Breath mint?"
Jace
"Great, they're going to put Cradle Robber on my tombstone," Beth yelled, interrupting my rendition of Katy Perry as she made her way into the bathroom.
I was trying to lighten the moment until she started having a panic attack in the middle of the bathroom. I was still trying to figure out how long it would take her to realize I was showering, naked, and she was standing there rocking back and forth like someone about to have a nervous breakdown.
"I can't believe I'm thirty and still can't make sound decisions!"
Something I'm guessing it was a shoe slammed against the wall. More cursing. Damn, it was hot when she cursed.
"Why the hell don't I have that drunk text thing? Wait. Does that exist yet? Son of a—" More banging around. And then silence.
To be honest, the silence freaked me out more than the nervous breakdown. Yelling I could deal with. I was a politician for shit's sake. I cut my teeth on people who yelled and bitched every day of their lives. But silence? Kryptonite. Superman was officially going to crash into the moon if Beth didn't pull herself together.
Her eyes were more green than I remembered them. Then again, my memory wasn't so great; it had been over ten years. Ten years, and I still couldn't get those damn eyes out of my head. Instinctively, I reached behind my ear and touched the scar; it may as well be a blazing red sign that read Danger. Last time I had a run-in with Beth, I landed in the hospital.
So we shared a one-night stand. Big deal. People did it all the time.
I mean, I didn't. But people did. They had to, right? Where else would Hollywood get all that shit about one-night stands and waking up in Vegas and the Ashton Kutchers falling in love with the Cameron Diazes?
I closed my eyes against the memories. Damn. It was her stupid dress that had done me in. It had reminded me of prom. It had reminded me of her sweet scent, and after a few drinks, I'd been done for.