To add to her list of already growing problems—he’d said no media. Maybe if she presented her case differently, was completely honest with him and said she’d be jobless just like him if she didn’t cover it. Would he take pity on her? Then again, she was damn good at her job; that one little incident didn’t define her, all she needed were some details of the wedding, a few pictures, and she’d be golden. Nobody ever had to know it was her that gave the information up to the press. Besides, wouldn’t they rather have a friend cover such a special day than some random person with a camera? Was it right for Char to even ask such a favor? Especially given the stress of the wedding? She didn’t want to add more, and honestly it wasn’t Kacey’s problem that Char’s boss was a greedy ass who had no moral compass. The quiet ticking of the clock in the bedroom didn’t matter. It was like being on Jeopardy.

She put herself in Kacey’s shoes: What would she do? Kacey always did the right thing, even if it killed her. Char, on the other hand, wasn’t marrying into a Titus fortune. She needed money to eat! After getting her demotion, she knew this was the final straw. If she didn’t get the pictures, her dream of being on the news would be officially over. So what if she just asked Kacey? Or Travis? Or even Grandma? A headache began to pound at her temples.

Her phone went off and she looked at the screen. It was an e-mail, which she quickly opened. One word. That’s all it was. One word and a question mark.

Well?

It was from Mark. The only answer she could come up with rhymed with it, Hell, and that was it. As if she needed another sign, Kacey’s face popped up on her cell.

She needed advice, wise counsel, something, anything. Or maybe just another chat with her boss. Maybe if she explained the predicament he’d back off?

Groaning, she closed her eyes for a second, allowing all the stress of the day to wash away from her. She needed a job. Period. Jake Titus? Well, that was more of a want, and she still hadn’t figured out if he’d lost his mind or somehow just found a heart in that muscular body of his.

With a grunt she sat on the couch and flipped on the TV. Soon her eyes felt heavy and she fell asleep.

The sound of the TV jolted her awake. Slowly, Char rose from the couch and grabbed the remote to turn it off.

But when she reached for the button, something on the screen caught her eye.

“Holy crap.” She turned it up, more awake than she’d been in hours.

“Millionaire playboy Jake Titus returns to party scene.” The reporter said. “He was seen downtown at hot spots Brazeel and Ice. Sources say he left with not one, but two women on his arm. Rumors have gone rampant over the past week, ever since Mr. Titus was asked to step down from Titus Enterprises. Women all over Seattle must be happy to see the city’s most famous bachelor in high spirits and back to his old self.”

The remote fell from her hand.

Shaking, Char took a sip of wine.

The ass.

He was toying with her, playing a game, and she’d totally fallen for it again! How many times in the past few days had she promised herself she wouldn’t fall, and yet she justified her feelings because he had seemed so different.

Clearly, leopards didn’t change their spots.

And Jake Titus could sleep with whomever the hell he wanted. She was done, completely done. 

The first thing Jake thought when he woke up alone in his bed was that God had taken away his sex drive in order to punish him.

But if he was really being honest…

It wasn’t God.

It was Char.

He wasn’t sure if he should hate her or just run over to her house and have his way with her over and over again.

Two girls, both gorgeous, both models… and nothing. Absolutely nothing. Even the whiskey had turned sour in his stomach the minute they’d both started stripping in front of him. He’d actually told them he had to go to the bathroom.

An all-time low.

The bathroom? Had he lost his damn mind?

He pulled a total chick move, ran into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat with his head in his hands—shaking, yes, shaking over the fact that he’d completely lost control of his life.

All because of a stupid girl he’d met at a stupid junior high camp, that had a stupidly amazing body with stupid bright eyes and luscious lips and—

Well, at that point, in the bathroom, he had more than a drive back.

But then he heard the girls, the twins, calling his name.

And there it went.

Down the toilet.

He sat there for ten minutes. Then, walked out of the bathroom making the lamest excuse known to players everywhere. “Look, I’m just not feeling it tonight. I’m sick.”

The girls both looked at one another and then approached him. Twin one had a black lacey bra and underwear on and twin number two was wearing nothing at all.

Maybe he was gay?

Once they were close enough to touch him, he stepped away. Their perfume was literally suffocating him. Why couldn’t they smell more like Ch—

“Shit!” He yelled, causing both girls to jump. “Sorry, it’s not you guys, it’s me.”

“Really?” Twin one said. “Are you getting rid of us? What the hell is your problem?”

“You. Both of you.” Jake growled. “Now leave.”

They flipped him off in perfect synchronization and grabbed their clothes. The minute the door closed behind them, he fell onto the couch and groaned.

Damn his brother for telling him to stay away from the one girl that actually made him want to give it up. He had to keep telling himself it would get better, that soon he wouldn’t have this problem. Because in the end he knew he was the type of guy that would hurt Char. There would be no happily ever after because guys like him didn’t know how to give it, and he wasn’t really sure he was able to be what she needed him to be.

Had he ever been that guy? The one girls ran to when something went wrong? No, that was his brother Travis. Jake was the screw up, the partier, the one who, when caught by Kacey’s dad at the age of fourteen snorting cocaine and partying with girls twice his age, took him by the ear, and told him he was ruining his life.

Which he was.

It hadn’t helped that the minute that Bill grabbed Jake, he was so high and disoriented that he had fallen into the river by their house and nearly drowned.

He hadn’t touched drugs since. Alcohol? Yes, maybe it was because it was the only way to numb everything. Jake never pretended to be something he wasn’t… he just wasn’t sure if he liked what he actually was anymore. 

“Hey, jackass!” An irritating female voice called to him in his dream. “Wake up! It’s time to board the plane!”

“Why are you yelling?” Jake whispered, holding his hands to his temples. “And what the hell are you wearing?”

Char stood in front of him, hands on hips, wearing a bright pink sweat outfit straight from the pages of Victoria’s Secret.

“Son of a bitch, turn off the lights.” He put his hand over his eyes and kept swearing.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Char kept talking loudly. “Does my bright outfit make your headache worse? How about a shot of tequila, hmm?”

His stomach clenched at the thought. How was it that he was completely drunk out of his mind and still managed to turn down two women at the same time? And yet, the object of his affection looked about three seconds away from taking a knife to his nether region.

“No.” He croaked. “No alcohol.”

“Have fun last night?” Char crossed her arms. Her bright blue eyes were clear as the morning. What. The. Hell. So now he was a poet? He hit his chest and cleared his throat. Good. Chest thumping, he’d resorted to cave-man style) in order to prove he still had balls.