Page 33 of The Bet

“Yeah, it’s kind of like fate.” Rich waggles his eyebrows.

“Or a sign that the end of the world is coming.” Jenna tucks her arms together over her chest and slouches into the recliner.

I wink at Rich.

“Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t get any ideas.” Jenna glares at us.

“What?” I feign mock innocence.

“You aren’t as naïve as you put on.”

“You’re fucking right about that. Rich is singlehandedly annihilating me.”

“Gross.” She stands and stretches. “I’m going to bed. Please don’t keep me up all night.”

“Don’t worry. We’re going over to Chloe’s kitchen to recreate our first night together. This time, we’re going to frost each other’s –”

“God damn it.” She throws a pillow at Rich and stomps out of the room.

“Just because she thinks it is a bad idea doesn’t mean we aren’t doing it, right?”

I laugh at his expression. Like I would deny any of his desires. If he wants to stalk around in a big bad wolf costume, I’m all for it.Oh, that gives me a great idea. What else can Tony find on short notice?“Let’s go now.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chloe

The next day, promptly at noon, I ring my parent’s doorbell.

“Don’t you think you should have told them I was coming?”

“Nope. Mom is going to go ballistic. I don’t want to ruin her surprise.”

“What does that mean?” He shoves his hands into his pockets and inhales. “She’s not going to throw something at me or send your dad out for shotgun shells, is she?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” I haven’t breathed a word to Rich about our moms plotting to get us together. It’s too much fun to see him sweat. For a big, bad boy, he’s a pussy cat. Scared of my mom. How cute. The door opens with a squeak.

“Oh, my.” My mom’s hand flies to her mouth as tears fill her eyes. The scent of ham and homemade bread wafts onto the front porch.

“Shit.”

“Language, Rich.” She frowns at him for a second before she turns. “Come here, Martin. Chloe has brought a man to Sunday dinner.”

“Your mom is about to cry.” Rich eases backward.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” I grab his hand, lace my fingers through his, and tug him back onto the top step.

“Chloe, I should go.” His face is pale as we wait for my dad to show up.

When my dad walks into the living room, he smiles. “Hey, Rich. Good to see you. Come on in.”

“Okay.” His voice is shaky as we step inside and shut the door behind us.

“I can’t believe your mothers pulled this off.” My dad shakes his head as he falls into his recliner and motions for us to join him.

The living room is small but tidy and homey. Photos line the walls, displaying my transformation from childhood to adulthood.

“Martin, I didn’t do anything.” She glares at my dad. “Chloe told me not to, so I’vekept my mouth shut.” She turns on her heel and heads into the kitchen.

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