The Bachelor's Dare. Shirley Jump

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СКАЧАТЬ tell Mark.

      He considered that a moment, then looked at her. Those cobalt eyes had probably made a lot of women’s hearts beat faster, but Claire was not impressed. Eyes were eyes, even if they were an almost electric color. “What about you?”

      “My name’s already on the list.”

      “Oh.” He nodded, then flicked a thumb at the RV. “So, you think you can outlast me?”

      “I know I can.”

      “Want to bet?”

      “Sure. Twenty bucks says I win this thing.”

      “Sounds fair.” He grinned. “I bet you’re out of there on the first day.”

      She let out a chuff of disbelief. “You won’t last the first night. Remember, you’ll be sharing a bathroom and a mirror.”

      He clutched his heart. “Oooh, that’s low. You wound me, Claire.”

      Despite everything, Claire laughed. If there was one talent Mark had always had, it was the ability to make her laugh. “Hey, if those arrows work, I have a million more, baby.” She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight into fighter stance. “I am going to outlast you, Mark Dole. And then I’m going to drive away from this town and leave you in my dust.”

      “I think you’re the one who’ll be choking on my exhaust.” He raised an eyebrow and gave her a lopsided smile. “You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

      “Neither do you. Never underestimate the stubbornness of a woman.” Especially a woman with virtually everything at stake. Claire spun on her heel and started to walk away.

      “Claire! You’ve forgotten one thing,” Mark called.

      She stopped, pivoted back. “What?”

      He pointed at her, then himself. “You. Me. Locked together in there.” He gestured toward the RV and smirked. “It could get mighty hot.”

      “Yeah, I’m feeling lukewarm already.”

      He stepped closer. The woodsy scent of his cologne drifted between them. On any other man, it would have been sexy, tempting, but on Mark—

      “We’re not teenagers anymore, you know,” he said, the deep timbre of his voice a reminder of how far along Mark was on the male development scale. “We’re all grown up, with very grown-up desires. Knowing how stubborn both of us are, we could be in there for a very long time. Aren’t you worried such tight quarters might, ah…tempt you?”

      She fanned her face à la Scarlett O’Hara. “Why Mr. Dole, I do declare, you are the most seductive thing I’ve ever seen. How will I ever keep my head on straight?”

      “Cute. Very cute.” He stepped back. “We’ll see who’s the last one off the fun bus there.”

      “I already know that answer. Me.” She took a step closer to him, pointing at his chest. “And remember, I don’t play fair.”

      “Neither do I, Claire.” His smile reached his eyes. If she’d been any other woman, it might have made her pulse skitter. “This is going to be fun.”

      From the smoldering look in his gaze, she knew he wasn’t talking about the kind of fun they’d had playing Twister when they were seven. Something in Claire’s gut coiled with heat.

      Nothing a cold soda wouldn’t fix, she told herself, and walked away. Well, maybe two cold sodas.

      Earsplitting buzzing, screaming bleats. In his ear. Loud, annoying, repetitive sound. Mark slapped at the nightstand, searching blindly for the source of the god-awful noise. He bumped against hard plastic and smacked it until his fingers hit the snooze button.

      He cracked open an eye and glanced at the red numbers. Three in the morning. What insane person gets up that early?

      He rolled back to the pillow and closed his eyes. When he did, the image of the RV flashed in his mind. He jerked upright. “I’m that insane person,” he grumbled.

      The Survive and Drive contest started today. Only the first twenty got on the RV. If he didn’t haul his butt out of bed and get to the mall, he’d lose his shot.

      He stumbled for the shower and didn’t bother to wait for hot water. He stripped off his boxers, stepped inside the stall and let the needles of cold water sting him awake. Two minutes of sudsing and rinsing and he was done. He rushed through the rest of his morning routine, choosing the faster electric razor over the more-precise disposable blade, skipping aftershave.

      In his childhood bedroom, Mark flicked on the overhead light and got dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Pennants from Indianapolis Colts and Pacers games hung on his walls, souvenirs of trips to the stadium with his dad. A selection of sports trophies collected cobwebs on a shelf on one wall, golden images of boys at play with footballs, hockey sticks and baseballs. A five-year-old picture of his family—Jack, Mark, Luke, Nate, Katie and their parents—sat on top of his dresser. Mark’s gaze swept over it all. He ignored one corner, though. On that wall hung a plaque etched with many words of praise for Mark Dole.

      And not a single one of them was true.

      He shoved enough clothes for a few days into a gym bag, tossed in some deodorant, shaving cream, a razor and his toothbrush. He added his laptop, a notebook and a few pencils, then zipped it shut, slipped into his sneakers without untying them, and headed over to Luke’s room.

      His twin brother’s bedroom was in sharp contrast to his own. Luke, the more organized of the two, had already turned his space into one befitting a grown-up. The few pieces of furniture he’d moved with him from his California house seemed to bring all the remnants of what had once been a happy home into the small space. The hallway light cast a soft glow over the room, revealing a handmade quilt on the corner recliner and a series of photos on the rolltop desk Mary had given Luke on his last birthday. The photos were of happier times, before Death had made a special delivery to Luke’s door.

      A sharp pang grabbed at Mark’s chest. He was twenty-nine. Too old to be playing the games of his youth. He’d outgrown the pennants, the cheers of the crowd, the adoring girls standing on the sidelines. When Mary’d died last year, Mark had seen and felt—in some special twin synergy—Luke’s grief and had suddenly known he was missing something very special. Coming home two weeks ago and being welcomed into his parents’ warm, bread-scented home told him just what that missing part was.

      A home. Not an apartment empty of anything but the basic necessities of bachelorhood. Not a string of women, their names blurred into one—CherylJudyMelanie-Heather. For the first time in his life, Mark wanted a taste of what his brother had had. He was done with fast food. He wanted roast turkey with all the trimmings.

      But having that meant settling down. Being responsible. Not letting Luke down and losing their business in one fell swoop. Mark wasn’t even sure he had it in him to be the kind of guy who could be counted on for a paycheck every two weeks and a retirement account.

      Either way, before he thought about himself, he needed to restore Luke’s life to him—or at least the parts Mark was able to give back, which meant getting to the mall before nineteen other people did. He shook Luke awake.

      “What? Go away. СКАЧАТЬ