Walk of Shame (16 page)

"I don't think I'm trying to
be a peace-keeper," he said quietly with his lopsided grin.

"No, I don't think so,
either. I think that's the manner you exude, and everyone else feeds off it. They
respect you, and you respect each of them, in turn."

"Are you as well versed in
everyone else?" he quietly asked.

"No, just the ones who
dazzle me. I look harder at those ones, trying to figure out if it's just one
impressive aspect blinding me, or if he's the whole package I've been looking
for."

"I hate cats," he said
solemnly.

"I love dogs."

"My mother insists I visit
her twice a year."

"I'm not afraid to
fly."

"I get so wrapped up in my
work sometimes that I spend hours staring at rock samples under the
microscope."

"I get so wrapped up in my
latest novel that I stay up and write all night then crash the next day."

"I have a lot of safety gear
that I have to travel with."

"When I'm getting ready for
a convention or book signing, sometimes the living room is filled with boxes of
books and handouts and other paraphernalia."

"My job can get dangerous. I
have scars from a mountain lion attack."

"Hence your hatred of
cats."

"Would you slap me away if I
kissed you right now?"

"No. Actually, I'd be
offended if you didn't at least try."

He reached out, grabbed me by the
hips, pulled me up against him, and kissed me with such intensity that I moaned
into his mouth. He'd always held himself so aloof, but every once in a while
you'd get a glimpse of what lay under that exterior layer. And as my hand went
to his muscled arm, and his hand moved to thread through my hair, I realized he
was just as yummy and dreamy as I imagined him to be under the calm facade. If
I had any complaint about him at this point, it was that he was just so...
massive. I was five foot three and slender. He was six foot four, and was
comprised of hard muscle.

He was like having my own
personal Himalayan Mountain to climb.

We did eventually pull away from
each other. And we did get the conversation around to our childhoods. When he
finally left me at the end of our date, I was swoony and smitten.

Dinner was a little awkward after
spending so much time with the individuals. Now I just felt like they were all
staring at me. They had all nine of us at one long table, inside the main
dining room of the interior. We were surrounded by windows and I tried to
contribute to their chatter and blatantly watch the sunset as the main course
was served. It got a bit better after that, as people focused on their meal and
less on me.

It's as though they were all
waiting for me to give them each some sort of public acknowledgement of the
time we'd spent together. But, I wasn't about to rub one guy's face in another
guy's successful date. I ended up thanking them all for spending the time with
me and giving me the opportunity to get to know them more. I told them that I
thoroughly enjoyed my day and that they'd given me a lot to reflect on and
think about.

I also
thought, judging by some of the looks that were flying around the room, that
they'd all gotten their first real taste of sharing a girlfriend. I had to
wonder if anyone was going to get up and walk away over the harshness of the
reality of watching some other man kiss your girl, and then not do anything
about it.

"So who's going to be my new
brother-in-law?"

I rolled my eyes as I filled the
back of the seashell Jared had given me last week with rubber cement.
"It's two a.m. where you are. You have finals in the morning. Shouldn't
you be sleeping?"

Chloe snorted. "Sleep is for
the weak. I should be cramming."

"So cram."

"No, I need a study break.
Tell me about the group date."

I put the applicator brush back
in the jar and screwed on the lid. "What do you want to hear?"

"I want to know who the
frontrunner is!"

I turned away from the counter
and walked over to flop on the couch. "You have no idea how impossible a
question that is to answer. What am I supposed to base that on? Just today?
Overall? Conversations? What? There's too many of them, good ones, for me to
answer that."

"Ok, who's not going to be
my brother-in-law?"

"The other guys really seem
to like Mitch. And I keep thinking that if they think he's an okay guy, I
should get to know him more."

"Yeah, I get that. They
aren't going to want to hang around a total jerk."

"So... I was trying to make
sure I got them talking about what it was like for them growing up, what their
family life is like now that they're travelling around."

"Sounds like a good plan.
What happened?"

"Mitch took me jet-skiing.
And yes, I wanted to go jet skiing and I had a good time. But one of the other guys
that I'd already talked in-depth to last week could have taken me. Instead,
Mitch chose that time slot and now it's one more chance he had for us to get to
know each other and he didn't take it."

"What about the other one
you never talk about?"

"We actually got to talk
today. He turned his back on the cameras and distracted himself with watching
dolphins, but I finally found out what he does for a living. And he told me he
has a kid."

"So you think he's camera
shy?"

"I don't know, but if he is,
then he can't hang for another couple months. He isn't going to be able to keep
flying under their radar."

"So you'd kick him out for
being shy?"

"It'd be a mercy
killing."

"What about the limo driver?
He's never been red, never been pink, but did all that sneaking over."

"They figured out he was
disappearing, so he backed off."

"Smart. He doesn't want them
knowing they could sneak over too."

"Yeah. He stepped up his
game today. He might just climb his way out of the friend-zone."

"Did he kiss you?"

"No. But open flirting and
backrubs involving sun block were had."

"Nice."

"Yeah."

"What about the
archaeologist? I'm telling you, I like him."

"You had a five-minute
conversation over the phone with him. You only like him because you're trying
to live vicariously and he's the only one you've had contact with."

"Whatever. How'd it
go?"

"Him, and the one that
somehow figured out my favorite drink, have one-on-ones later this week."

"Oh, nice... So, okay, the
one that cooks, how about him?"

"In the group, he takes a
back seat and lets the others have at me. But when we're alone, he's a big
flirt. I really like him."

"He's the old one, right?"

"He's not old... he's
middle-aged."

"He's mom and dad's
age!"

"He is not! Mom and Dad are
old enough to be his parents."

"Sure, if she was twelve and
Dad fourteen when they had him."

"Whatever. He's hot and
intelligent, and the maturity is a turn on with him."

"But has he kissed
you?"

"Yes, twice."

"Tell me, tell me, tell
me!" she squealed.

"The first time, he snuck me
off away from all the other guys, after the last elimination."

"Where?" she asked,
still trying to contain her enthusiasm.

"Around the corner of the
house, in the shadows, against the wall."

"Oh my God, you like
walls."

I smiled to myself. "I do
like a good wall."

"So then what
happened?"

"He took me back to the
group."

"Damn, just when I thought
he had something."

"He does have something."

"What about the guy who
smells good all the time?"

"That damn cologne fogs up
my brain cells! And his eyes, they catch mine and they simmer. I love the idea
of his job and the pilot's license is hot, too."

"But those are all
superficial things."

"Exactly. I don't know if
there's anything more to it than that. And I can't figure it out because I only
get him in small doses, after he's showered."

"Why didn't you talk to him
after he swam in the ocean?"

"I didn't get to pick when
his turn would happen."

"What about the night at the
pool, did he smell as good then?"

"Yes! He wasn't wet when I
got there and he only got in the pool long enough to sit on the bench and talk
to me."

"Well, you're going to have
to figure out a time when he's all sweaty and stinky and then talk to
him."

"Yeah, let me get right on
that."

"All right, now tell me
about the mountain man."

"I'm sooo keeping him
around."

"What, why? He didn't even
get pink last week."

"He just sort of snuck up on
me. I mean, yeah, he's a big huge hunk of eye candy, and the brogue in his
voice is nice. But he turned on the heat today and I'm just smitten. Maybe he
just needed a week to get his bearings, or maybe he's just waiting until the
other guys aren't around. Whatever it is, it's very, very good."

"So
he
kissed you
today."

"Oh man, did he ever!"

"What about the Army
guy?"

"Mike. It's going slow and
steady. He'd already done the whole boat thing with me on his one-on-one, so he
took me below deck for a private lunch to make today different."

"That's good."

"Yeah, and at the end of the
time-slot, he did the sweetest thing ever."

"What's that?"

"He kissed me on the
forehead."

"And this impresses
you?"

"It was sweet."

"All right, all right. Swamp
boy."

"He's awesome."

"That's the southern accent
talking."

"No, it's not. He figured
that by the time he had his turn, I'd done every activity there was, and had
been staring at water all day, he had us do something totally different."

"What?"

"Roll over and watch the
clouds."

"You're joking with me now,
right?"

"No. I like the ones that
put their own spin on things. It makes me feel like they aren't just along for
the free ride. And I also found out he has a dog."

"Cool. Did you tell him
about Goldie?"

"No. I wanted to, but I'm
still trying to figure out who she favors."

"So who does she
favor?"

"I can't tell yet. Most of
them play with her. They throw tennis balls and Frisbees all around for her.
That dog is having the time of her life. Troy says she comes in at night, all worn
out and dragging and flops on the corner of her bed and is asleep half a minute
later."

"You need more one-on-ones
with these guys, the waiting is killing me."

"I stole one."

"Stole one what?"

"A one-on-one. I figured if
Trevor and Phillip could steal time with me, I could steal time with one of
them."

"There's the girl I know.
Who'd you steal?"

"Jared, the night of the
elimination."

"How'd it go?"

"So freaking good! We cuddled,
kissed, and stargazed on the roof of the main house. We talked so much, and
that's put the relationship with him farther ahead than all the others."

"And I assume there was
kissing with him today?"

"There's this heat between
us. His lips touch mine and all I want to do are naughty things." I got up
off the couch and picked up the seashell, going upstairs to my bedroom.

"Naughty, really? You're the
only one I know who talks like that."

"Occupational hazard. I've
written too many romance novels."

"Well, say it plain."

"He makes me want to spread
my legs for him, is that plain enough for you?"

"Yes, it is. Thank
you," she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

I pressed the back of the
seashell to the center of my headboard and held it there, allowing the rubber
cement time to attach.

"Sounds like Jared is your
favorite," Chloe said.

"If today has taught me
anything, it's that my opinions of them can change with one simple interaction.
Stephen is slipping and Liam is skyrocketing. Who knows what I'll be thinking
by the end of the week."

"How am I supposed to put
these guys on my chart?"

"Give up on the chart for
now. I can't put them in an ordered ranking. There're too many. Maybe once the
group shrinks a bit."

"You didn't deny that Jared
is your favorite."

I sat back and
stared up at my handiwork. "I just rubber cemented the seashell he gave me
to my headboard. I think it's safe to say that he's probably at the top, for
the moment. But we're only a week and a half in. Give me some time to figure
them out."

Morning number three of the week
rolled around and I went out to the track for a run. Goldie saw me treading by
and joined me, falling into step with me as we'd done a thousand times before
coming here.

"Poor girl, how do either of
us have the energy left for this?" I asked. "We live pretty active
lives, but this mess is physically exhausting and mentally brutal. I swear,
girl, if I weren't spending so much time on camera in my bikini, I'd quit the
formal exercise until this is over."

She didn't weigh in with her
opinion.

The track was situated halfway
down the hill and I was too low for the guys to see me if they were on the
first couple of floors, but someone was on the rooftop terrace, looking down
right now. I couldn't tell who it was from the distance, with the sun behind
him. But somebody had just found out that I sometimes run in the early morning.

I finished my self-inflicted
minimum number of laps and jogged up to the house. I was headed inside when
something sitting on the patio table caught my attention.

Goldie had followed me around as
I went to retrieve what was laying there. She must have thought I was going to
strip off shoes and stuff to go swimming. But apparently, I wasn't moving fast
enough for her and she barked.

I glanced down, saw her paw the
ground impatiently and look at the pool before looking at me again and barking.
"No," I told her and looked back at the magazines I'd just picked up.

Field magazines about swamp areas
and marshlands. I knew Jared had said he'd get me some magazines that, should I
end up with him, I might be able to submit some articles for, but I thought
he'd been joking.

Goldie barked again and I didn't
even look down at her. "No."

She growled, barked, and the next
thing I knew paws hit me in the side and I went flying. I let out an outraged
scream just before we hit the water.

I resurfaced and started yelling,
"You're a bad girl! A very, very bad, bad girl!"

Goldie whined, but kept swimming.

"Get out of the pool!
Now!"

People descended from three
directions as I swam for the edge and Goldie headed for the steps, growling.
Liam got to me first, reached down, and pulled me straight up out of the water
and stood me beside him.

I looked around the assembling
group of cameramen, producers, landscapers, and suitors. But I didn't focus on
them. I was looking for my dog. My eyes finally landed on her and my finger
shot out, pointing at the corner made by the outdoor fridge set against the
house. "Go lay down, right this minute!"

Goldie tried hiding behind
Jared's legs.

"Right now!"

She hung her head, moved over to
the corner, and settled herself.

"Are you okay?" Troy
asked.

"Yes. I'm wet, but I'm
fine," I answered.

"You're dripping blood on
the cement," Liam said.

One of the producers called into
his hand radio for a medic.

I looked down and saw the blood,
but didn't see where it was coming from.

Liam moved behind me and knelt.
"It's the back of your thigh. You're all scraped up."

"Look over here," Troy
said as he moved toward, and pointed to, a spot on the rounded cement edge of
the pool. "Looks like you hit here and scraped skin off." He moved
closer to see the damage to me.

"Don't touch it," I
told Troy as his hand moved toward me. "If you touch it, I'll feel it and
then it'll hurt. Right now, it's numb."

He nodded. "We'll wait for
the medic. For now, tell me what happened."

"Goldie wanted to go
swimming, and I told her no. So she knocked me in, thinking if I was swimming,
then she could go swimming." Goldie knew she wasn't allowed in unless I
threw a ball or stick into the water, or if I was already swimming. When we
were at campgrounds, if I was going to use the pool and they didn't allow pets,
I just left her inside the fifth wheel and she had no choice but to stay out.

"I just want to be clear, no
one touched you?" Troy asked.

I shook my head. "Just the
dog."

"All right," Troy said
as he looked around. "Let the medic up here, but everyone else, scatter.
She doesn't need an audience, go. I've got this."

People started to move away and
go back to the things they were doing before they'd heard the scream and come
running. All except Liam and Jared.

"You two can go," Troy
said again.

I looked up at the two guys and
nodded.

They left as the medic showed up.
He patched me up as Troy fished magazines out of the water and cracked jokes
about how the cameramen were going to have to shoot me from the front, or only
above the waist.

"You're certainly making
this an interesting season for me," he quipped.

"Ever happy to keep you
entertained," I retorted.

"No stitches or
anything," the medic reported, placing tape over the edges of the gauze
he'd applied. "But you're going to have to reapply the antibiotic cream
and change the bandage twice a day."

"I'll make sure production
sends up medical supplies and some OTC pain meds," Troy promised. "I
should text the MA and get her up here to do something with you, so we can go
get today's round of interview questions about yesterday done and move forward
with the day."

I sighed and nodded. The
interview, which promised to be lengthy given that I'd dated eight of the guys
yesterday, was the major point of concern for the day.

Makeup came and handled my head
before wardrobe put me in a summer dress.

Goldie was all stretched out in
her corner of exile when I came back out of the house to go to the interview
trailer. She whined as soon as she saw me.

"Go. And stay out of trouble."

"Landscaping already took
care of the blood. I'm pretty sure the magazines are a lost cause. I'll have
someone get you new copies," Troy said as we walked along.

We did the interview, and
afterwards I went over to the wardrobe trailer and listened to a producer, a
cameraman, and a wardrobe person discuss changes in my coming attire that they
needed to make, in order to make filming the easiest for them with the large
bandage. Then another producer walked in, as I tried on outfits, to see where
the hemlines would all fall on me. Then I listened to the two producers discuss
whether they'd even address the accident. If it could remain hidden, they might
leave it out. If not, they'd have to piece together the little bit of film their
guys had captured when everyone had come running.

I left them to their debate and
limped back up to the cottage. The gauze lying up against the scrape had it
feeling like it was burning. I got an ice pack out of the freezer, took a
couple pain pills, and settled down on the couch with my laptop and the TV
remote.

The sun was thinking about
setting when there was a knock on the door. I looked up and saw a cameraman
through the window by the door. I let out a sigh and waved him in, figuring
Troy was behind him, looking for an update.

Two camera crews came in and
headed for their angles, followed by Jared holding magazines, Liam holding a board
game, and Phillip carrying two bags of groceries. I closed the lid on my laptop
and sat up straighter.

"What's up?" I asked
the group.

Phillip flashed me a smile before
breezing past me to go into the kitchen.

"I wanted to bring you some
back issues of the magazines, since the last set got ruined, and check to see
how you're doing," Jared said.

"And I figured to come check
on you anyway, so I brought something for us to do, in case you were bored
after your afternoon of solitude," Liam said.

"And Phillip?" I asked.

"We brought him along to
cook you dinner," Liam answered.

"There're meals in the
fridge for me," I said.

"But I make really good
Italian food. And what better comfort food is there?" Phillip called from
the kitchen.

"How is it that the three of
you were able to sneak away from the other seven?" I asked.

"Liam and I were the only
ones outside when you screamed, so we were the only ones up at the house who
even knew you got hurt," Jared said.

"I only found out because I
overheard them talking about sneaking over. Don't let them fool you with the
excuse of food," Phillip said.

"So, instead of ratting them
out to the others, you joined in with their sneakiness?" I asked.

Phillip shrugged. "If it
gets me more time with you, sure."

"But how did you get
away?" I asked.

"We told them we were going
down to our rigs to work on stuff. Jared and I went down and fetched the
magazines and games, Phillip went to the catering trailer and raided their
supplies," Liam explained. "Then we all met up here."

I glanced over at the camera crew
focused on the living room, and the other crew focused on the kitchen. I
figured they'd interfered by following, either because it was three guys and
not just one sneaking over, or because they were going to include the injury.
And then they'd plan to show which ones came running when it happened, and who
showed up at my door later to check up on me.

"Look, I appreciate the
gesture. But I get cuts and scrapes all the time. You deal with it and move on.
This doesn't have to be a big deal. I had the option of sitting today, so I
sat. What pain there is will be gone by morning and we'll all move on."

"In case you missed it,"
Jared confided with a lowered voice, "we're all trying to impress you. And
taking advantage of an opportunity to spoil you is not something we're going to
pass up."

I laughed. "Well far be it
from me to take the chance away from you."

"What have you been working
on all afternoon?" Liam asked with a head gesture toward my computer.

"Editing a draft of one of
my novels."

A look and a round of smirks
passed between the three of them.

I scrunched my eyebrows at their
reaction. "Is there something-?"

Howling.

The guys all started laughing.

More howling.

They laughed harder.

I started to get up.

Liam waved me down and he got up.
"That dog has been pouting around the main house all day. She won't play,
she won't run, I'm surprised she ventured far enough to track us down."

He opened the door and Goldie
looked inside, spotted me, and whimpered.

"Come here," I told her
with a sigh.

She slowly moved forward, until I
patted the couch next to me, then she picked up speed and jumped up with me.
She sniffed until she found the bandage, licked my shorts near it, and then
laid her head on my thigh with a thump of her tail.

"She's not going to leave
your side tonight," Jared said.

"Yeah, I know," I
answered.

And so it was. We played the
board game, ate a fabulous dinner, and said goodnight, all with a dog glued to
my side. They tried to coax Goldie into leaving at the end of the evening, but
it was a no-go.

"She's fine, she can
stay," I told them.

The guys left, but Phillip came
back a couple minutes later to retrieve the leftover ingredients he'd
conveniently forgotten and was supposed to return to catering. "I really
enjoyed the whole hair in a bun, glasses, and no makeup thing you had going on
this evening," he said, referring to how I'd left my appearance after I'd
changed and scrubbed my face from the interview. "I'll be nursing a
naughty school-teacher fantasy or two tonight," he said with a wink before
turning and walking to the door to leave again.

"Now see?" I asked as I
pushed Goldie aside and stood. "You had the perfect opportunity to follow
that statement up with a kiss, and you turned to leave me instead."

He grinned and turned to come
back to me.

I put my hand up to fend him off.
"No, the moment's passed. You missed it," I said, my tone teasing.

He stopped. "I was worried
one of the others would come back, to move me along, and they'd see. I figured
you wouldn't want to be caught in that situation."

"So you left the stuff
behind on purpose just to come back and throw out a little flirt?"

He shook his head. "I did it
so that I could be the one to leave the lasting impression on you tonight. But
that doesn't help my cause if I leave you thinking that I'd messed up." He
started towards me again.

I moved behind the couch, a grin
on my face. "But the other guys. Remember, they could come back."

"Probably not," he said
and caught me around the waist before he started walking me backwards into the
kitchen.

"You don't think they'd want
to limit your private time with me?" I asked, looking into his eyes and
trusting him not to run me into anything.

He paused long enough to set the
bag on the island before continuing our walk across the room. "Nah, they
don't think I'm a threat. They just think I cook really well."

"You were the only one who
got red for both rounds of the
Walk of Shame
. How can you not be a
threat?"

He grinned. "I'm too nice
for them to think I'll be competition for them when it really counts. And
they'll probably just assume that I ran the stuff straight back to the trailer
instead of catching up to them." He backed me against the cabinets, out of
sight from the front windows. He lifted me until my lips were in line with his
and spent long minutes thoroughly kissing me. He moved to whisper in my ear,
"The next time you want me to touch you, all you have to do is say
so." Then he nipped my ear before pulling out of my arms and picking his
bag back up to leave.

I sighed as I followed him back
into the living room, suddenly realizing I didn't care how old he or his
parents were. "Damn, you did it again."

"What?"

"I really thought you were
only going to get pink this week."