"Listen, punk," Jake started.

I laughed. I couldn't help it. Punk? Really? That's what he was going to go with? And then he punched me in the stomach. I doubled over, not a proud moment. Travis pulled me by the shirt and leaned me against the wall so it looked like I hadn't just gotten the wind forced out of me.

"Listening." I glared.

"We will end you." Travis smiled, as if he was excited about the idea of killing a state senator and going to federal prison. "Leave her alone."

"Her?" I repeated. "You mean Grandma?"

"Grandma?" Jake snorted. "That woman could run circles around you in her sleep. Hell, I don't even feel sorry for you. We're talking about Beth."

"Hey," I held up my hands, "I didn't do anything wrong."

"You slept with her."

"I'm not sure," I answered honestly. "I can't exactly… remember the details."

Travis nudged Jake. "Performance anxiety?"

"Hell no," I growled. "I think I was too drunk or—"

Wrong thing to say.

I got punched in the stomach again.

My stomach had dropped to my balls — well, at least I wasn't hungry anymore!

Travis swore. "Don't play games with her. Leave her alone. Let her have a relaxing time in Hawaii and be nice."

"I'm nice," I defended myself.

"You're a… politician." Jake made mock quotes. "That basically means it's your job to be nice and make everyone feel confident in your abilities, but I see through the bullshit. I saw through it when you were after Char, and I see through it now. Leave. Her. Alone."

"Or what?" I sneered. Okay, so I wasn't actually going to do anything, but I was pissed they were threatening me.

"Oh that's easy." Travis stepped away, smirking at Jake as if they had this giant-ass secret I wasn't a part of. "You don't leave her alone, and we let you fend for yourself with that one." He pointed back to the cart where Grandma was currently thrusting her phone into the air and yelling.

"I have no service! Damn third-world country!"

I'd last five minutes alone with that woman before committing a federal crime. "Fine, but for your information, I was going to leave her alone anyway."

"Sure you were." Jake rolled his eyes. "That's why you've been staring at her ass for the past ten minutes."

Naturally, my eyes went directly where they weren't supposed to, and I was gifted with another hard slap to the stomach.

"Glad we understand each other." Travis smacked my cheek.

"Shit, you're like Grandma's mafia."

"She'd be one hell of a mob boss." Jake whistled, thrusting his hands into his pockets. "Oh, and by the way, have fun at dinner."

"Damn." Deflated, I watched as the group got on the cart and wandered down to baggage claim, leaving Beth, Grandma, and myself.

"Well!" Grandma clasped her hands. "Isn't this nice! Now, how about that dinner?"

"How long do you plan to keep this up?" the agent asked pointedly.

Grandma grinned and leaned forward over the metal table. "How long do you have, sugar?"

Beth

I was a blubbering idiot. The only explanation I had was PMS or something like it. Char and Kacey enveloped me in a few side hugs and told me men were asses. It helped. Kind of.

I could only assume they'd seen my fallen face and were trying to offer their support in any way possible, which to girls basically meant bashing on the guy in question until the crying girl stopped crying and started joining in.

But I didn't want to join in. Because, regardless of how harsh Jace had been with my feelings — at least he'd been honest.

Honest, I could do. It was the men who lied about who they were that really bothered me. I'd dealt with honest most of my adult life. I could work with it; logically I could explain it.

Maybe it was my hair.

I'd always been told the brown was too dull.

Or possibly my eyes? But, in my opinion, they were really the only thing I had going for me. Dark lashes fanned the emerald green of my eyes, giving them an almost exotic look.

But that was it. No, seriously. It was all I had. My body was normal, not too big, not too small. And I officially sounded like Goldilocks from The Three Bears.

"Was he mean to you?" Char squeezed my hand. She'd always been the type to fight first, ask questions later.

I loved her for it.

"Nah," I lied. "He was a perfect gentleman. Not too bad for a senator."

"Senator my ass," Char hissed. "He's slimy, that one."

"I thought you liked him?" I argued.

"Liked." Char sniffled. "Past tense. I liked him before he stole you away from the wedding reception. I liked him before I found out you were plastered against his naked chest for hours on end. And I liked him before he started staring at your ass as if it held secrets to national security."

"He was staring at my ass?" I asked in a much-too-hopeful voice. Bad Beth. Very bad.

"Not the time, Beth." Char's eyes narrowed. "Remember what happened with Brett? And Steve? And John?"

"Stop naming men from my past before I kill myself," I muttered.

Kacey didn't say anything. She watched our exchange with interest, her mouth turned upward in a smile as she looked between Jace and me.

"He is cute," she finally said.

Um, actually he was a god. No really, ask Marvel Comics.

"Kace…" Char warned. "Cute is for puppies. Not politicians."

"Let's go!" Grandma shouted above the boys fighting and the girls laughing next to me.

"Go get 'em, tiger." Char pinched my butt. "Make him work for it."

"Work for it?" I asked innocently. I had a sneaking suspicion she didn't mean actual work, as in giving him math formulas and solving for Z. But something way harder, like actually trying to be sexy.

Char's answer was to nudge Kacey and laugh. Was I missing something? Shrugging, I summed it up to being overly exhausted and tugged my purse over my arm. Dinner. One dinner. And then I was going to find some Hawaiian man in a loin cloth to rub coconut oil all over me and say big words like electromagnetic and ionic… bummer. I was my own ionic bond. No matter how many times I'd wished I could stick to something, it hadn't happened.

Crap. I had no charge. I so wanted to charge. I needed a charge.

"You okay?" Jace asked, once we fell into step behind Grandma.

"Do I have a charge?"

"Huh?"

"A charge," I repeated.

"Like a card?"

"Like a bond."

"I think I'm confused."

I sighed heavily. "Ionic bonds. They're formed when charged particles stick together. I think I'm chargeless."

Jace's face lit up with humor. "Chargeless, huh? Is that your professional opinion?"

"I'm going to the ladies' room! Damn wine!" Grandma yelled and stomped off, leaving Jace and in the very romantic spot people like to call the wall between the ladies' and men's restrooms. Toilet flushing was our romantic music, and the smell of Mexican food floated through the air.

Again. Clearly I was chargeless.

"So…" Jace leaned against the wall.

"So?"