Page 48 of Someone to Tempt
I shake my head. “I wish it was that easy. I don’t want to pretend with you. Is it so wrong to want to move forward?”
It takes her so long to answer, I wonder if she’s going to argue with me about that. Finally, she shakes her head. “It’s not so wrong,” she concedes, “and I appreciate you going out with Jodi.”
“One time,” I remind her. “You can’t force me into a relationship with a woman I don’t want to date.”
She laughs. “No one can force you to do anything you don’t want to. I know that better than most people.”
I don’t like the certainty in her voice any more than the words she’s saying, but I’m sick of arguing.
“You’re going to have fun tonight, Iris.”
“You can’t force me to have fun.”
“No, but you will.”
“There’s the cocky Jake Byrne I know.”
“Self-confidence is sexy. Isn’t that what your man Spencer Charles says about Ellie Spaulding? Her self-confidence makes her sexy.”
“You are no Ellie Spaulding.”
No, I’m not, but so much of my inspiration for Ellie came from the woman beside me—at least at the beginning. Nine books in, and Ellie has taken on her own personality, but she started with Iris.
“I’ll tell you what. I’m so confident you’re going to have a good time tonight, that if you don’t, I’ll extend our agreement and ask Jodi out again at the end of our date tomorrow. But if you have fun with me, then you and I have a real night out.”
“I’m not dating you, Jake.”
“I didn’t say a date. I just said we’d go out and have fun, onlyIpick the activity. My version of fun.” I lean over and wink. “We both know I’m a guaranteed good time.”
“We also both know I could easily lie.”
“That’s not who you are, Iris. If you give your word, it’s golden. You are the most honorable person I know.”
Her mouth thins, and she shakes her head. “All that confidence is going to get you into trouble, Byrne. Because you might be a good time to most people, but I’m immune to your charm.”
God, I hope not.
“Challenge accepted, Dixon. Challenge accepted.”
18
IRIS
I was lyingthrough my teeth when I told Jake he isn't my idea of a good time. I'm guessing we both know it, but the moment we walk into the club, I realize it doesn’t matter. Because I could actually win our silly wager.
I’m so far out of my league, I might as well be Rose at the below-deck party on the Titanic.But the idea of winning feels less important than just getting to be here with him.
I pictured something like one of the ubiquitous dance club interiors you see in movies—flashing lights, a mass of drunken, sweaty bodies, and a crowd big enough to blend into without being noticed.
This club isn't that.
It’s way more.
The lighting is low, and the dance floor—clearly the heart of the club—is polished and surrounded by cozy seating areas with plush cushions. Couples of all ages, shapes, sizes, and sexualities wend and sway together on the dance floor. The energy is raw and real, the sensuality in the air palpable. I relied on liquid courage for karaoke, but I might need a full-on psychedelic trip to relax in this place.
A few people turn as we make our way through the crowd. While Jake gets welcoming smiles, I receive cool stares, like they know someone called the anti-fun SWAT team to wreck the vibe.
Jake places a hand on the small of my back. "Do you need a brown paper bag to breathe into?"The warmth of his touch zips up my spine like the first crack of lightning before a summer storm—startling and impossible to ignore.
