Date and Dash

by Susan Hatler

  “Let’s do it then, hot stuff. ”

  “You got it, muffin.”

  A ripple of excitement fluttered through me, making me realize I enjoyed our endearing nicknames a little too much. So I leaned close to his ear to be out of microphone earshot. “I’m only calling you hot stuff because, admittedly, you’re gorgeous. But you’re also stuffy.”

  “Thanks for the clarification.” The corner of his mouth turned upward, and he moved his mouth so close to my ear his warm breath tickled my skin. “Just so you know muffins are sweet, but they’re also snippy calories.”

  My lips puckered. “Did you just call me snippy?”

  He laughed, which needled me. He was so smug and annoying, yet I had to pretend like he was the greatest thing ever. Harumph.

  “Couples, gather around please.” The show’s host, Brandon Baker, had used a megaphone to summon us to the corner of the vacant lot. He held his palms up and wiggled his fingers with a smile. “Are you ready to have some fun?”

  Mike and Maggie clapped and whooped, then their cheeks turned red at the same time. The rest of us clapped politely. Just then I caught the scary twenty-something woman named Evie giving me a cold smile—like she had it in for me!

  “Settle down, everyone.” Brandon Baker used a singsong voice, so it was obvious he loved his job and was putting on a nice show for the cameras. “Your first couples competition will begin in fifteen minutes for our first segment: Love Can Be Rough.”

  Trevor and I exchanged a glance. Love Can Be Rough? I hoped whatever we’d be doing

  wouldn’t be too rough since I was wearing a baby pink dress I thought would compliment my honey blond hair on camera. Not exactly proper attire for roughing it in the trees.

  The “wiggly fingers” show host smiled. “In keeping with our theme, the eight of you will be competing against each other in a paintball competition. There will be a few twists we’ll throw at you while you are on the field so our viewers can see how you deal with stress and adversity.”

  Stress and adversity? I much preferred words like “day” and “spa.”

  “Will it bring you closer together as a couple? Or will it make your fledgling relationships fall apart?” Brandon Baker moved his gaze from one person to the next, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes since my fledgling relationship had taken a nosedive when Trevor had chosen a police report in lieu of asking me out. “You’ll have ten minutes to confer with your date, to form a game plan. When the whistle sounds, you’ll need to run, grab your stuff, and get to your designated safe area.”

  Run where? Grab what stuff? And why did I need a designated area? Gulp. I hoped Trevor was forming our so-called plan right now because I didn’t have a clue about paintball guns, and I also happened to be wearing heels.

  “Please remember the rules.” The host tapped his index finger to his temple and smiled brightly. “Each of you will get either a regular paint gun or a paint gun that has been modified with certain surprises. You can take as many shots at your opponents as you want, but you can’t shoot above the neck. Once you are hit, you are out. The last pair or person standing wins for their team. The first team completely eliminated will be out of the competition. When I say ‘go’ you can stake out any area you choose. But you can’t get into gear until the whistle blows and the first competition filming begins. Don’t forget, no shooting until everyone’s suited up safely.

  Ready, set, go couples, go!”

  Immediately after the way-too-enthusiastic host stopped talking, Wendy and Chase rushed off, followed by Ross and Evie. Sharon took off, with Jared trailing after her looking very irritated. Mike and Maggie stood nearby looking just as confused as I felt.

  I turned to Trevor. “So what’s our game plan?”

  He reached out, his fingers warm and slightly rough, and tilted my chin up. He stared into my eyes as if he were peering into my soul. “To win.”

  I gazed into his eyes, seconds ticking by, until he nudged me with his elbow. My cheeks heated. His touch had made me swoon way too much, and I couldn’t afford to let him know how he affected me so I drew my brows together.

  “Winning is a good plan, but we need to be way more detailed if we’re going to beat them.” I fought to ignore the heat stirring in my belly and nodded toward Ross and Evie, who were huddled together while Evie kept fingering the waistband of her jeans.

  Trevor slipped his arm around my shoulder and squeezed. “Is it me or do they look like they might have criminal records?”

  The heat in my belly flamed into a bonfire. Did he realize he’d touched me twice in under a minute? Was this an act for the cameras? Or was he as attracted to me as I was to him?

  “I agree Ross and Evie are scary.” I laughed nervously, loving the feel of his arm around me and really wishing I could take back Trevor’s strikes. Then I remembered all of the (many) strikes my ex Rick Mulroney had accumulated. I had to hold my ground. My laughter died on my lips, and my mouth puckered. “We really need to focus on a plan.”

  Trevor studied me intently, and I squirmed under his assessing gaze. “Why do you want to win so badly?”

  My heart squeezed at his question. “I need the money to buy the bracelet that I originally wanted to bid on at the auction.”

  A strange expression flitted across his face, and I could guess what was going through his mind. He thought I was shallow. What did he know, though? My anger flared and I had to look away. “Why?” I snapped. “What are you going to do with the money if we win?”

  He let out an audible breath. “I’m not going to blow it on a five thousand dollar piece of jewelry. That’s for sure.”

  I felt a pang in my gut that he’d talk about Grammy’s bracelet as if it were just a piece of jewelry. But to be fair, he didn’t know the story behind her bracelet and why it meant so much to me.

  “The bracelet’s going to cost me twenty-two thousand now, thanks to your ’65 Mustang talk branding my brain.” I swallowed hard as I said the words. Even though I tried not to care what he thought of me, I found myself not wanting him to look down on me at the same time.

  I mean, I could understand where he was coming from. Dropping twenty-two thousand on a bracelet was grossly extravagant. It’s not like I was going to the Academy Awards or something, nor did I have a Hollywood actor’s salary. But it was the bracelet that Grammy had let me wear when I was scared, when— No, I wasn’t going to go there.

  I turned back to Trevor. “So what are you planning to do with your share of the money?”

  He was quiet for a moment as he watched the other couples conferring. Finally he said, “I’m going to donate it to Founding Friendships, the homeless outreach program.”

  I pinched myself to see if I was awake. Yes, and ouch. “Did I just hear you right? You’re going to give away all of your winnings to the homeless? Who does that?”

  He leveled me with his gaze. “Me.”

  I swallowed. Humbled. Wow. I hadn’t meant my comment to come out as shallow—in actuality, I was incredibly grateful there were actually people like that out in the world. Was it possible for me to reverse strikes? Hard to know. It’s not like I’d ever dated a guy before who did such awesome things.

  “That’s . . . really generous.” I continued to stare at him, and as I was looking at him something tugged at the back of my mind. Hadn’t the whole auction at the Geoffries hotel been for Founding Friendships? Why did that charity mean so much to him that he’d donate twenty-five thousand dollars on top of the five thousand he’d already raised from my bid? Not to mention him donating his time for this competition by pretending to date me when he clearly wasn’t interested.

  “Uh-oh. There go Mike and Maggie,” he said, interrupting my thoughts.

  I threw my hands out. “Everyone’s got a plan but us. And we don’t even enjoy each other’s company.”

  His eyes lit up. “I enjoy your company just fine, muffin.”

  “Great, hot stuff. But so far, all we’ve secured is nicknames to fake
our growing love. That’s not going to win us this competition. What’s our next move?”

  “We figure out how to use a paint gun. I always wanted to play paintball as a kid. That was the big thing when I was younger, especially in junior high.” He sounded . . . almost sad, and that made me curious.

  “But you never played? Why not?” I asked, glancing up at him.

  He shrugged. “We never had the money. Now listen, I think we should circle the perimeter, stay out of the line of sight of the others, and check this thing out from all angles.”

  “Okay,” I said, wishing he’d told me more and cringing at the thought of being shot with a paint ball. “That plan sounds . . . safe.”

  “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with safe,” Trevor said. “Trust me, I’m in risk management. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”

  “Risk management? So that’s why you were so obsessed with the police report.” I rolled my eyes this time. “You have got to loosen up. Life’s short. Have some fun.”

  Suddenly the whistle blew, and I jumped. Despite my need to win, now that I knew all cameras had zoomed in on us, I froze. What if I biffed this couples competition on national television? I’d be the laughingstock of this program. I knew how critical viewers would be of my performance, so I had to ace this event.

  If only I could get my feet to move. . . .

  “Don’t worry.” Trevor slipped his hand around mine, and tugged me forward gently. “If we stick together, we’ll win this thing.”

  I mumbled something unintelligible, then we raced to get our gear. Before we even got to our designated safe base area, I heard a paintball gun pop explosively through the air. That sound made me run faster, legs pumping as quickly as they could go.

  Luckily neither of us had been hit, but I knew it had to be Ross or Evie who had fired the first shot. They had been so intense in their mannerisms, and I suspected this wasn’t the first time she’d been trigger happy. But how had they started already? We were supposed to be in our gear before we started, and there was no way they’d had time to suit up.

  Once we’d pulled on our protective gear, the host came up to us. He handed us a dark wooden box and told us to open it. I shoved it at Trevor. “You open it. I don’t want to get a face full of paint or whatever other ‘surprises’ they’re going to throw at us.”

  Trevor clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Remember, we need to be getting along for the camera. Bossy is not an attractive trait.”

  “Just do it!” I shrieked, fearing cameras were zooming in on me from all directions. Turning slightly I plastered a grin on my face and said as loudly as I could, “Thank you so much for being such a gentleman. Taking one for the team.”

  “Anything for my muffin,” Trevor replied as he pried the box top open. He gave me the goofiest grin I’d ever seen.

  I suppressed a giggle, while feigning concern as he peered into the box. Instead of getting a face full of paint or pie or whatever else they were cooking up for us, he reached into the box and pulled out a carton of eggs. We exchanged a confused look, then I peered into the box and saw a red card shaped like a heart. A white note was typed in its center.

  “Use these as your ammunition,” I read. A smile flitted across my face. “I think we’re supposed to shoot these at everyone. This might actually be fun,” I said, imagining taking Ross and Evie out with eggs.

  “How is this going to work?” Trevor wondered aloud as he picked up his paintball gun and examined it. “Ah. They rigged the gun. This reminds me of the potato guns and marshmallow shooters I had when I was a kid. I wonder what the other teams are getting.”

  I shrugged. “No idea. This is a first for me.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “Listen, stay low. We can use the trees to the north as protection. Go after Maggie first. Once you take her out, go after Wendy next. I’m going to try to get Ross and eliminate the strongest competition first.”

  I wanted to argue with him and call out his bossiness but I didn’t—because I knew that the camera was on us and because my heart was pounding in my chest. As Trevor moved away from me, I reached out and grabbed his arm. My stomach flipped with excitement, and I told myself it was just because we were about to start the game. When he turned to me with a confused expression, I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Be careful,” I said with just the right amount of pout.

  The corner of his mouth kicked up, then he dropped a kiss on my forehead. “You, too.”

  Again my stomach flitted, and I told myself that it was just nerves. I’d never been filmed before. Hopefully we made for good TV. I hung back, watching Trevor maneuver through the trees. The rest of the competitors seemed intent on getting one another and had all but forgotten about us. Or so it seemed. I knew better than to trust any of them at face value.

  I shoved an egg into my gun and moved after Trevor. I watched his broad shoulders as he slipped stealthily through the fake woods. Wow—he looked hot in camo-colored protective gear.

  Gazing across the tree-lined lot, I spotted Maggie cowering across the way. Mike had already been hit by what looked like paint balls mixed with sour, curdled milk. Blech. My stomach heaved, and I actually felt sorry for the two of them since they looked so sad. They seemed like a nice couple, actually. It was too bad I wouldn’t have a chance to get to know them. But in terms of the competition I was glad that they were easy outs.

  When I got close enough, I aimed at Maggie’s thigh and fired. It was a square shot, and she went out with a tiny yelp. Trevor let out a cheer for my accomplishment. As he did I saw Ross whip around and fire off a round of paint balls in rapid succession, splattering bright yellow paint against Trevor’s back.

  He glanced over at me dismayed, and I ducked behind a tree. My heart rate kicked up a notch, and my breath became ragged. Now that he’d been hit, it was all up to me.

  Peering out from behind the tree, I noticed that Sharon and Jared and Wendy and Chase were out, too. That meant that it was just Ross, Evie, and me left in the game. Gulp.

  Swallowing hard, I shoved another egg into my gun. I glanced over at where Trevor was sitting on the ground. His mouth was drawn tightly. Probably mad that he was out, which was actually pretty cute. I needed to stop thinking that way, though. I didn’t like him for real. I needed to focus on winning. That was all.

  I crept out from behind the tree, intent on finding Evie. I knew I could avoid Ross for only a few moments, but then just as I was about to run for another stand of trees I felt the explosion of a paintball hit my shoulder. The pain blossomed immediately.

  Immediately I was hit from the other side as well. This time the paintball glanced off my jaw.

  I gasped. It felt like someone had sucker punched me. And that shot had been above the neck! I knew that was against the rules, but I was too busy being in pain to formulate the words to get them disqualified.

  The whistle blew again as Trevor raced over to me. “Are you okay?” He cupped my face in his hands, tipping my head back as he examined my cheek and jaw.

  I pulled away, feeling horrified that I’d been hit. “No, I’m not all right. We lost.”

  His eyes flicked over my chin one more time, then his gaze met mine. “We didn’t lose. Ross and Evie won and we came in second. So we move on to the next segment.”

  “We’re not eliminated?” A sense of relief flooded through me even as my chin throbbed and my heart slowed to a dull trot. “Did you see who got me in the chin? I’ll bet it was Ross or Evie, which means they cheated. They should be disqualified for hitting above the neck.”

  “I suspect it was them, too. But I didn’t see it. If there aren’t any witnesses, then we can’t prove it.” He glared in their direction as he spoke, and it was the first time since I’d met him that he looked ticked off.

  My eyes widened as I realized that I was enjoying his attention.

  “Congratulations to the winning couples!” Brandon Baker’s voice boomed through the megaphone. “Come
gather around for the elimination ceremony!”

  Before I even took a step, I glanced up at Trevor. “That was way too close. We were almost eliminated. We need to step up our game.”

  He nodded in agreement. “Let’s meet for coffee this week. We need to get a plan in place.”

  My eyes widened, then I quickly regained composure. Had he just asked me out? No, he had to be just concerned for the win.

  “A strategy session over coffee sounds great.” I inhaled a deep breath. Then together we headed toward the host, ready to say goodbye to one unlucky couple. We’d survived the first segment. Three more to go.

  Chapter Four

  My stomach knotted after the first segment of filming wrapped for Romance Revealed, but I assumed it was disappointment at coming in second place. I pressed my hands against my belly, then dropped my forehead against the steering wheel. Memories of Grammy handing me her bracelet all those nights when I’d been scared flooded through me.

  Suddenly, I pictured Trevor standing over me cupping my face in his hands like he’d done during the competition and the tension eased out of me. He was examining my chin, which I now knew had acquired a huge welt from the illegal paint ball shot.

  That had to be attractive. Not.

  My stomach growled. Going home to my empty refrigerator didn’t appeal to me, so I decided to head over to Ginger and Melinda’s place. It was almost six in the evening and hopefully my sister would be cooking something good by now.

  I started my car and drove toward Ginger’s condo, worrying about what she would say about my impulsiveness over the auction. I hadn’t talked to her yet today, but I’d have to tell her when I saw her. Melinda might’ve spilled the beans already.

  Maybe Ginger would be as captivated by fate as I had been. The bracelet had landed back in our lives. Granted, it was going to be mine and not hers, but still . . . she’d have to see how serendipitous it all felt.