Page 24 of Raine Out (Grand Slam 2)

“We don’t have a bet.”

He takes off his baseball cap and runs his fingers through his long, messy hair. “Okay, how about this? You land one guy before I land ten women and you win the bet.”

“Ten!” I scrunch up my face. “We’re only there for three nights.”

“Darling, if you think you can only have sex at night, I know what part of your problem is already,” he says, downing the rest of his beer. “And besides, you know what a great multitasker I am. Who says I’m limited to one woman at a time?”

“Ahh,” I groan. “Please stop. I don’t want to hear about your sexual preferences. Maybe the bet should be I land one guy, but you’re limited to only one woman.”

“Oh, holy hell, no. That’s not even possible.”

I rub my chin as I lock my eyes with his. “Why do you cycle through so many women? Are you scared to put in the work of keeping someone satisfied for more than one night?”

His eyes narrow into slits. “Don’t try to analyze me, Agent Raine.”

“Why don’t you say it louder?” I glance around the plane. “I don’t think the pilots heard what I do for a living.”

He shakes his head. “I only saidagent. You could be a travel agent for all anyone knows. Your whole cloak and dagger thing’s secure. And I still don’t know why you can’t tell anyone what you do for a living. Is that something thetravelagency requires of you?”

“Stop avoiding my question. Why do you run from real intimacy by burying yourself in forgettable women?”

“Damn! Was that your question?” He lets out a long whistle. “We’re on vacation. Ease up a little bit, tiger.”

“Classic avoidance technique,” I say, tapping on his arm.

“I’ve been married and divorced twice. You know that. I’m not good at relationships.”

“Or,” I say, holding my hand up, “you chose the wrong women. Maybe if you start concentrating on quality versus quantity, you can find the right woman.”

“You’re still analyzing. Stop it.” He strokes his beard as he thinks. “For this weekend, I’ll limit myself to eight women.”

“Three.”

“Six. Final offer. And to be clear, that’s not having sex only six times. I’ll have to go back to them multiple times on the trip, but I’ll keep it to the same six women.”

“Gross,” I say, rubbing my face. “Okay, but if you go over six different women, I win. And I already know I’m going to win because there’s no way in hell you’re going to be able to do that.”

“No, that’s not the bet.” He holds up his empty beer can to the flight attendant who nods at him. “You have to land a guy to win. It’s not just about me staying under my number.”

“Define ‘land,’” I say slowly.

“For this trip, “landing” means spending one night with said man,” he says, grabbing his fresh beer from the attendant. “And I have to have proof.”

“Eww, no. How am I supposed to prove it to you?”

“Pictures are nice.”

I shove his leg. “Stop being a pervert. Landing means kissing a guy—sex optional. And you can take my word for it. When have I ever lied to you?”

“That’s professional Raine. She’s as honest as they come,” he says. “I’m not too sure about this new personal Raine. I think she would lie just to get me to shut up.”

“Seriously, lying to you makes you shut up? How am I just learning this five years into working with you? I would have lied to you the entire time if I would have known that’s all it took to keep you quiet.”

“Do we have a deal or not?” He holds out his hand for me to shake.

“I have an addendum,” I say, pushing his hand away. “You can’t tell any of the women that you’re a SEAL.”

“Seriously?” He looks at me under a severely furrowed brow. “Do you think the only reason I get women is because I’m a SEAL?”

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