My Bachelor (12 page)

I followed her with my plate of food. “You sure are taking pleasure in my misery.”

“Not at all, Mr. New Species. I just live a dull life and I’m easily entertained.”

Chapter 15

Eliot

Jackson handed me
a bottle of water. “I didn’t realize it would be this hot today. I should have worn shorts to work.” He held up his sketchbook and showed me a pretty vignette he’d drawn of a picnic scene near the lake. “This is the set I created today. And it looks pretty damn good, if I say so myself.”

“Look at you with your official sketchbook and colored pencils. I’m proud of you, Jackson. You had a goal, and you’re working right toward it. Blake must be completely impressed.” I laughed. “Or worried that you might grab his director’s job.”

Jackson sighed. “Wouldn’t that be a dream. But in the meantime, I’m keeping my artwork and taking pictures of my creations. An impressive portfolio is my best ticket to a bigger and better job.”

“Just think, one day I’ll see your name float past on the closing credits of a big blockbuster movie.”

“Damn right you will.”

We sat on the grassy hillside just outside of the caterer’s tent to sip our waters. We were both on downtime while we waited for filming to end. The cameras and action had moved to the far side of the lake. Although lake was a generous term for the manmade, oversized puddle in the center of the park. Still, the location manager had picked a nice setting. The park had plenty of trees, green grass and the small body of water sparkled crystal blue under the hot sky. There was even a flock of ducks floating along the rippling surface. If it weren’t for all the tents, trailers and industrial sized trucks, it would have been worthy of an oil painting.

A pearl of sweat rolled down the side of my face. I pressed the cold water bottle against my forehead and stared down in dismay at my jeans. “You’re right. Shorts would have been a smarter choice today. That lake looks darn inviting right now.”

Jackson leaned back on his elbows. We both stared at the organized chaos across the lake. The camera had been mounted on a dolly to follow the bike ride. There were at least fifteen crew members crowding around the action, but Rafe’s height and shoulders made him easy to spot. “Maybe somewhere, amidst the dangling sound equipment, bulky cameras and stage crew, romance is blooming.” I shook my head. “It really is a silly concept—waiting for two people to find each other as soul mates in front of a dozen people and cameras.”

“Not terribly sexy or romantic. The women all look a little wilted out there. There seems to be a lot of nose powdering going on. The only one who doesn’t seem affected by the heat is the tall, dark and always cool man in the middle. But then I guess the California sun is nothing compared to the sun bearing down on the middle eastern desert.” Jackson sighed. “Bet he looked great in army fatigues.”

“Gee, you think?”

“Ah yes, I forgot that even you aren’t immune to his charms.”

“Here we go again.”

“Nope, new topic. This one makes you all scrunchy faced, which by the way is not a good look for you.” Jackson crossed his ankles and glanced at his bright orange shoes. “Shoot, my new high tops have grass stains.”

“Maybe it will help dim the neon color bouncing off those things.”

“You’re just jealous of my awesome new shoes.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and snapped a picture of the high tops. “I better preserve the moment when they were still bright orange.” He returned the phone to his pocket and lifted his face to the sun. “I don’t think anyone was expecting it to be this hot. But I suppose, if the prize is worth the cost . . . You were busy with your nose in a book earlier, but I climbed into the mobile control room and watched some of the earlier feed. It seems the bachelor was sticking close to Nina, the school teacher and Olivia, the lawyer.” He rolled his face my direction. “I knew she was the one to put my money on. Nina is a sweet little thing, but she seems a little meh for someone like Rafe.”

“And how do you know? Besides, he’s supposed to be looking for the marrying type. Nina seems down to earth, the kind of woman you want to take home to your parents.” I had no idea why I was defending her or why I cared. I really didn’t. Or at least that was what I kept telling myself. If nothing else, it was nice to think Rafe had listened to my advice when I pointed Nina out to him.

“Jeesh, all right. Then maybe it will be the teacher. Don’t get all huffy puffy about it. Did your bachelor say anything about his visitors last night, or are you privy to that kind of information?”

“Privy?” I rolled my eyes. “Yes, my top secret security clearance allows me access to such delicate matters as two women visiting the bachelor in the shadow of night. You do remember that half the staff was watching the tape. It was no big secret, and he didn’t have much to say. Or at least nothing I would repeat.”

Jackson opened his mouth to pry further, but I shot him a don’t bother look. “Jackson, you’ve had this position before. Rafe talks to me, but he does it in confidence. You’ve said it yourself. I’m his wingman. And as much as I cringe at the term, I plan to be a loyal sidekick.”

He turned on his side and rested on one elbow. “Well, I’m nobody’s loyal sidekick this season, so I’m free to listen and spread all the damn gossip I want.”

I raised a brow. “You have gossip? What gossip?”

He shook his head. “Don’t know if I want to tell someone with a higher security clearance. It might get me in trouble.”

“Jackson.”

He scooted closer. “The women were all gathered in the food tent earlier and I overheard them talking.”

“You mean you were eavesdropping,” I noted.

“Do you want to hear the gossip or not?”

“Yes, continue.”

“All right. It’s nothing too earth shattering. It’s just about some of the women and their quirks. Rumor has it that Janelle talks in her sleep. A lot. I mean like entire dialogues, and the first night in the house she was telling her roommate, Tanya, that there were spiders crawling all over her.”

“Probably just from the nerves and stress of being on the show. What else do you got?” I had no idea why, but it made me feel better to hear quirky things about the beautiful women in the bachelorette house.

Jackson twisted his mouth in thought. “Right. Here’s a good one. The lawyer, Olivia, likes to walk around the house in her expensive underwear.”

“How does anyone know it’s expensive? Does she leave on the tags? Never mind. Don’t answer that. I live with a woman who watches reruns of Gilmore Girls in the nude. Move on.”

He sat up and brushed the grass off his shoes. “I overheard Stella, the tawny haired coffee shop manager, talking to the woman who I think works in the post office, Ava or Eva, or something like that. They were talking about Linda, who I think works for some newspaper on the east coast.”

I blinked dramatically at him. “Hope this gets better cuz you’re losing me fast.”

“Fine. I’ll speed up and get to the nitty gritty.”

“Yep, nitty gritty is good.”

He peeked around as if anyone nearby could have cared less what we were talking about. “They were talking about what a goody-goody Linda was and how she never drank and she eats these healthy little meals while everyone else is snorting nachos and hamburgers. And here’s the kicker. Apparently, her pious eating habits are just a cover because Stella noticed a tube of cupcake frosting in Linda’s bag.”

I blinked dramatically again, only this time it wasn’t planned. “Frosting? And why is Stella going through another woman’s bags? See that’s the stuff Doug should be putting on the show instead of well-orchestrated sexual trysts.”

Jackson laughed. “You are so right. Brilliant. Frosting in a tube is much more interesting than sex. Anyhow, it all sounds a little strange. Don’t you think?”

I shrugged. “I’ve never quite understood the psyche of a woman who would put herself on television to compete with other women for a soul mate. So I don’t really know if it’s strange or not.”

I watched the action across the way and was completely aware that Jackson was burning a hole in the side of my face with his gaze.

“Why are you staring at me?” I asked and pretended to be interested in what was happening in front of the cameras.

“I’m just trying to puzzle you out, my very jigsaw-y friend.” He sat up enthusiastically. “Whoa, I almost forgot—what are you doing Saturday? And if you answer studying, I will get up and stomp away on my rockin’ orange shoes.”

I looked at him and paused a moment for dramatic effect. “I’ll be reading textbooks.”

“El—”

“Hey, you said studying.”

“My god, you are such an annoying pain in the ass,” he grunted. “You need to forgo the books for a day. We’re driving to San Diego. Michael and I—and other people—” he interjected quickly so as not to bring attention to the
other people
part.

“Other people?” I waited for him to explain, but I knew exactly what other people meant.

“Yes, it’s Michael’s brother, Cody. Come on, Eliot, would it be so bad to hang out with him for a day? He likes you a lot. He’s a great guy.”

“Yes, he is. But he’s not my type, Jackson. You’ve got to stop trying to fix me up. I’m fine with the way things are.”

“Fine. Live the rest of your life like a dried shriveled prune who never experienced the rush of being in love.”

“I’ve been in love, and it’s not all that special.”

“Then you haven’t been in love.” He reached over and tucked a wavy strand of hair behind my ear. “You know I love ya, El.”

“I know. I love you too, Jackson. Regardless of your terrible taste in shoes.”

“Says the woman who is wearing a shirt that is identical to one my dad wears when he heads off to the construction site.” He hopped to his feet and I followed. He reached up and pushed my chin so that we were face to face. “When are you going to stop punishing yourself, Eliot? When are you going to join the human race again?”

I waved my arm at the chaos twirling around me. “I’m standing in the center of it, Jackson, and frankly it’s not all that wonderful.”

“And the Eliot shell is back.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “One day someone will break through that barrier.” He looked past me toward the lake. “I wonder if they’ve wrapped things up on the bikes. I see everyone heading back here to the refreshment tent. I’ve got to check that the picnic sunflowers aren’t wilting.”

I headed to the food tent, certain that Rafe would be hungry after a hot, grueling afternoon in front of the cameras. I started building a sandwich worthy of a man his size. While the women piled onto the various golf carts to be driven back to the tents, Rafe decided to ride back on the bicycle. He picked the front wheel up and kept the heavy cruising bike in an impressive wheelie all the way back to the food.

Several people, including me, gave him a round of applause to which he responded with a bow. Then his gaze swept the people milling about and landed on me. I had no reason to be so thrilled about his ability to find me in a crowd except that it somehow made me feel less invisible. And as much as I was into camouflage and the art of not being noticed, somehow I didn’t mind when Rafe took notice of me. In fact, each time an unexplained rush of giddiness overtook me as if I was standing back in seventh grade when Paul Rotterdam, the most popular boy in school, asked me to dance. Even then, at the age of thirteen, I’d felt completely shocked and unworthy of the attention. Just like now. Only now, there was a perfectly good explanation for the most popular boy to pick me out of the crowd. I was holding his ham and cheese sandwich.

Jackson had been right. Biking in the heat and working up interesting conversations and new relationships in front of the camera had not fazed the man in the least. He looked just as cool and calm as ever.

I lifted the plate and a cold bottle of water.

“You’re a mind reader.” He took hold of the food and drink.

“You just spent two hours pedaling around in triple digit heat. It was pretty easy to predict that you’d be hungry and thirsty.”

He glanced down at the sandwich. “Pickles?”

“What kind of an assistant would I be if I didn’t remember the pickles?”

“King Doug gave us just twenty minutes to eat and be ready for the picnic scene.” I followed him to one of the fold-out tables set up for the crew. “Nothing too exciting happened out there. The women were hot and tired. None of it made for spontaneous and sexy moments.”

The women were nearly back from the other side. “I’ll move as soon as they get their lunches.”

Rafe looked at me and finished chewing a large bite of sandwich. “Why?” He took a long gulp of water.

“Because you’re supposed to be talking to them. Not your wingman or wing-woman, in this case.”

“But my wing-woman is far more entertaining.” He put down the water and picked up the sandwich. “And, I might add, she has a magic touch with sandwich making. Anyhow, I know tomorrow night I have to narrow it down to twelve girls, but I think I’ve narrowed it down to my final six. Do you want to know who they are?”

There it was again. The unexplained tightening in my gut. I could no longer blame the scapegoat peach muffin. It had been hours since I’d downed it. The heat seemed like a good excuse.

“El? Are you all right?”

I took a deep breath. The complaints and tired laughter of the bachelorettes brought me back to earth. “I’m going to clear off the bench.”

“Wait—” He took hold of my hand . . . again. No doubt he did it without thinking and it was no big deal to him, but for me, the feel of his fingers around mine made my head start to spin a little. “Don’t you want to know who I’ve narrowed it down to?”

“Sure, but not right now. Besides, you might change your mind after the picnic and the intimate chats.”

“Oh shit. I forgot about those. That should be fun in this heat. And I’m supposed to make sure it’s hot. Well, you know what I mean. Funny how heat is not conducive to hot.”

“All right, now I’m worried that maybe you did get too much sun out there.” I looked out at the lake that looked more inviting with each passing minute. “Too bad there isn’t some refreshing cool body of water to jump into for some respite from the blistering heat.” I’d said it as sarcasm, but Rafe’s eyes rounded with an idea.

“Shit, you’re a genius, El. The lake. Perfect.”