by Tess Oliver
“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.”
Chapter 16
Rafe
The bike ride and heat had drained the bachelorettes of conversation energy and we sat in an awkward silence in the center of the picnic blankets. We’d spent so long filming the bike ride, there was no longer enough time for the one on one chats. I, for one, was fine with that. Cameras were rolling, waiting for something that would satisfy the director enough for him to call it a wrap. Microphones hovered overhead on the end of long, flexible rods, waiting to pick up anything that was more interesting than the quacking ducks or hum of the cars passing by on the freeway below.
I stood up. Ava and Lilly hopped up too. “Where are we going?” Lilly, a petite blonde with a southern drawl that was sweet as honey, asked cheerily. Like the others, her cheeks were pink from the bike ride, but it seemed she still had plenty of energy.
My eyes flicked toward Doug. He was in his chair, his fingers tight around yet another cigarette. From the snippets of conversation I’d heard between Doug and his production team, they needed at least forty minutes of decent footage for the show. Something told me we’d all be out there until sunset or until Doug decided he had enough intriguing material to work with. Eliot had mentioned the lake, and it had given me an idea on how to create some on screen fun, something that would finally make Doug call it a day.
I let my eyes stray to some of the faces standing around, but I couldn’t find Eliot. I was relieved. I wasn’t all that proud of what I was about to do in the name of show ratings and pleasing the director.
“Who’s up for a little pool game?”
“But there’s no pool,” Ava pointed out helpfully.
“Well, that’s all right because this game only needs water.” I pulled off my shoes. The women followed my cue without me asking. Ava had tied a cute bandana around her neck for the bike ride. Her dark eyes rounded as I took hold of her hand and pulled her closer. I circled behind her, pushed aside her long brown hair and untied the bandana.
“Darn,” Lilly huffed. “Why the heck didn’t I think to wear a bandana?”
The other women laughed.
“What’s the name of this game and how is it played?” Nina asked. She was the only one who hadn’t taken off her shoes yet.
“Ah, the teacher wants to know the rules before she jumps in. Fair enough. This is something my friends and I came up with one night at a high school graduation party. It’s called Strip Marco Polo.”
They all feigned shock, and Lilly even added in a touch of southern charm outrage.
“Rules are simple. If you get tagged, you take off an article of clothing. Then you become the new Marco.”
I lifted the bandana and tied it around Ava’s eyes like a blindfold. It seemed that every member of the crew had moved in to watch, but I still couldn’t see Eliot. Ava giggled nervously as I took hold of her hand to lead her to the water.
“You do swim right?” I asked, a little after the fact.
“Yes,” she laughed again. “Although, never in a blindfold. I usually prefer those in the bedroom,” she quipped. She’d hardly spoken two words all day, b
ut the bike ride just hadn’t lent itself to flirting. It seemed to me Doug was always putting us in situations that made it hard to get to know each other.
“Huh, interesting. I will keep that in mind,” I answered back.
The boom operator scooted along behind us toward the water, trying to catch every word and, as usual, killing some of the spontaneity.
Ava was a good sport. She didn’t even hesitate when her feet hit the cool water of the lake. With peals of laughter, the others followed us. After several hours riding bikes in a circle and trying to make interesting footage for the camera, the women were finally smiling and enjoying themselves. I was too, for that matter. Creating unnatural situations, providing conversation and constantly looking for ways to tip the scales toward drama made everything seem too forced.
I held Ava’s arms as I positioned her in front of me. I lowered my mouth to her ear. The boom operator worked hard to keep his feet and equipment dry, while trying to catch my words. “Ready?” I whispered against her ear.
The slightest tremble coursed through her body. “Yes,” she said on a long breath. “I’m ready.”
I kissed her cheek and released her. Instinctively, she stretched her arms out in front of her. “Marco!”
“Polo!”
Lilly, it seemed, was anxious to shed some clothing. She splashed close by as she called out Polo in her lyrical country singer accent. Ava lunged forward and both girls fell into the water squealing with laughter.
Lilly stood up with a fake look of disappointment, before making a show of stripping off her wet t-shirt. She tossed it onto the shore and marched back in her lacy blue bra to where Ava was standing. Ava transferred the blindfold to Lilly. It seemed every male member of the crew inched just a little closer to watch the statuesque and soaking wet brunette tie a blindfold on the spunky little blonde in her lacy blue bra.
Lilly took on her new role with a lot of enthusiasm, and it was obvious I was her target. Her hands flailed in front of her as she swam toward me. The movement dislodged the blindfold, and she leapt through the air and into my arms. “Tag, you’re it!”
I already sensed that Lilly was the kind of girl you could have fun with. And the sultry twang didn’t hurt. “You cheated.”
“Maybe a little.” She lowered her arms and patted my wet shirt. “Everyone’s waiting, sugar. Let’s see those pecs.”
Olivia started a cheering chorus of ‘take it off’ and the others joined as I, with some effort, peeled off my wet shirt. Whistles followed me as I walked closer to the shore and tossed it to dry land.
Stella grabbed the blindfold from an unsuspecting Lilly and swam over to tie it around my eyes. I yelled Marco and a round of Polo followed. I lunged out and managed to snag three women in my grasp. Of course, that feat was made easier by the fact that none of them seemed to make any effort to dodge me.
After twenty minutes of splashing and laughing and having a way better time than we’d had on the bike trail, all the women, with the exception of Linda who left the game early feeling tired, were down to just their wet and sheer bras and panties. I’d managed to hang on to my shorts. The editing crew was going to have one heck of a time making our game of Marco Polo suitable for prime time.
When it seemed the women were hovering closer to me, more for warmth than for flirtatious reasons, I decided we should call it quits. “I’m calling the end of the game on account of all the beautiful lips turning blue out here.”
Nina had her arms wrapped around herself, and her chin was vibrating with cold. I swam toward her, swept her up into my arms and carried her out of the cool water.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and swung her feet back and forth. “Wow, chivalry has not died,” she said excitedly.
The camera dolly spun in a circle as it followed me on my trek to the blanket.
“Cut!” Doug yelled. “That’s a wrap! Holy fucking hell is that ever a wrap,” he muttered right after.
I looked his direction and he pointed at me. “You are the fucking bachelor, Rockclyffe. The holy fucking bachelor. Knew you had it in you.”
Chapter 17
Rafe
Eliot met me with a massive wad of paper towels bunched up in her hands. “The women used up all the dry beach towels.” She pressed the towels against my wet chest and blotted some of the water away. “I’ve never dried off an entire person with paper towels.”
Neither of us could hold back a laugh.
I took the wad of towels from her and rubbed them through my hair. “So you saw our water antics?”
“Antics?” she laughed. “A rather playful word for what was going on down there. The temperature was nearly triple digits outside, but once you and your friends got in the water, the mercury shot through the glass. I saw crew members pouring cold bottles of water over their heads, and I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with the sunshine. By the way, when Doug walked past me a few minutes ago, his designer loafers were no longer touching the ground.” She lowered her sunglasses over her jewel-toned eyes. “I only watched some of it.” Her smile faded, and she pointed back behind her. “I found a quiet place to study, so I took advantage of the downtime. But from the bits that I saw and after hearing the comments of the people on set, you just earned yourself the top bachelor crown. I think the competition is going to really start to heat up. The women are all crazy about you.” There was the slightest hitch in her voice, and as brief and quiet as it was, the sound of it went straight to my chest.
“El, is everything all right?”
Behind me, I heard the bachelorettes arriving at the refreshment tent. “Rafe, honey, join us,” Lilly called.
I glanced at them over my shoulder. “Be right there.” I turned back to Eliot.
“Go hang out with them. I’ll see if I can locate an extra large dry shirt.” Eliot dashed off without another word.
My social and conversational skills were pretty much spent after the long day, but I headed down to the shade of the food tent. The caterer had cleared away the leftover food, leaving behind only the cold drinks. The women, all draped in towels, circled around the ice chest digging through the half melted ice for drinks.
I’d definitely narrowed down my choices after today’s taping, which, considering I had to send four ladies home next week, was probably a good thing. But the whole idea of me picking one woman out of the group for a marriage proposal still seemed completely insane. In the army, aside from stealing off with the enemies’ vehicles, I was also known for my ability to slip out of nearly impossible situations. But now I was baffled. There just weren’t any strategies of combat that I could use in this particular situation.
Eliot rushed back with a studio work crew shirt. “Here. It should fit.”
“That was fast.”
“Yeah, well I didn’t want you to catch cold. I’m the assistant, and if the bachelor showed up to set with a red nose, it would look bad on me.”
I pulled the shirt over my head and stretched it out as I brought it down.
“It’s a little tighter than I’m used to.”
“Rafe, honey,” Lilly called, “do you want a water or soda? I’m afraid there are only diet sodas left.”
“No thanks, Lilly. I’m good.”
Stella popped up. “I found a regular coke.”
Linda, who had tired early on in the game, had been searching frantically through the ice. Her somewhat unfocused gaze followed the coke in Stella’s hand. “Would you mind giving that to me, Stella?” Linda’s unsteady voice caught everyone’s attention.
Stella didn’t seem to notice that Linda was swaying on her feet. Instead, she made a show of opening the coke and lifting it to her mouth.
“No alcohol, small meals, tube of frosting,” Eliot muttered to herself as she stepped closer to the women. “She’s diabetic.”
&
nbsp; Eliot raced toward Stella, and I made a run for Linda. I caught her just as she collapsed. Eliot snatched the coke from Stella’s hand and ran back toward where I was now sitting on the ground with Linda. She felt cold and clammy in my arms. She could barely keep her head steady as Eliot knelt on the ground in front of her. She held Linda’s chin still and let the coke flow over her lips. Linda’s eyes drifted shut.
Some of the other crew members gathered around. Eliot looked up. “Someone call an ambulance.” She returned her attention to Linda, who was one step away from being unconscious. “Here, sip more of the soda. Help is on the way.”
Chaos swirled around us but Eliot kept her focus on Linda. She patted her cheek. “Linda, try and stay alert. Drink some more coke. Stay with us, Linda.” Minutes after the first few swallows of soda, Linda was able to keep her head from lolling back against my chest. A shadow fell over us, suddenly, and I looked up hoping it would be the paramedics or someone to help. It was Doug and his faithful camera man.
Linda was slowly regaining her strength, but she was still like a rag doll in my arms. She looked up, saw the cameras and turned her face against my arm in embarrassment.
“Doug, tell them to get that fucking camera out of here, or I’ll move it myself,” I barked.
Doug’s eyes flickered with anger, and for a second, it seemed he was going to play a game of chicken with me to see who would look away first. He caved. “Take the camera away.”
By the time the paramedics arrived, Linda was extremely weak but conscious due to Eliot’s quick thinking. The food tent and area was cleared so the medics could roll in their equipment and work to stabilize Linda for a trip to the hospital. While the crew loaded equipment, the remaining contestants were led, slightly shaken by the incident and exhausted from the long hot day, to the cars for their return trip to the house.
I scanned the area for Eliot and spotted her down at the lake rolling up the picnic blankets. I headed that direction. Several hours too late, a refreshing late afternoon breeze had finally kicked up.