Fiance for Keeps

by Gail Chianese

  “I love forget-me-knots. We’ll talk more later right?”

  As he made his way up the path, Denise found she was suddenly looking forward to the next couple of hours, especially if Josh was anything to gauge the other men by.

  She turned back to the limo as the next guy stepped out.

  “Wow,” she mumbled. The polo shirt strained across his chest and shoulders and arms. Tanned. Cut calves. Docksiders and blond, blond hair all screamed beach boy. The guy was six feet of pure muscle with ice-blue eyes.

  “Hi, I’m Aaron from Oceanside, California.”

  “Do you surf?” Denise asked.

  “Every chance I get.”

  “I’ve always wanted to learn. Maybe you can give me a few pointers later?”

  He agreed and made his way down the path.

  Two for two. Not bad.

  The next guy got out and turned his back to her. Strange, but okay. She knew some of them liked to make an entrance. A few seconds later he turned around and out of the limo jumped a little black dog.

  “Oh, he’s so cute.” She bent down to greet her four-legged guest.

  The man gave a silent command and the dog plopped his butt down, barked once, and held up his paw. Denise let him smell the back of her hand before she took his paw and shook it. As soon as she let go, the dog jumped up, spun around in one circle, and sat back down.

  “That’s Duke’s way of saying how excited he is to be here and to meet you. I’m Jerry.” He held out his hand and Denise gave it a firm shake. Like owner, like dog.

  “Well, I’m happy you’re both here too. Hopefully, Duke can stick around and show me a few more tricks.”

  Jerry and Duke disappeared and Denise went through the same spiel with the next two men. As the last one walked away, the limo pulled out and up came the next car. Denise took a deep breath and ran the names of the guys she’d already met though her head: Josh, Aaron, Jerry, James, and Brandon.

  “Okay, I can do this. Easy-peasy; only sixteen more to go.”

  The next limo pulled to a stop and the steps of the first were repeated. The man who stepped out was average height, good build, dressed in cargo shorts, a soft blue button-up shirt and Docksiders.

  Must be the in shoe for men this year.

  “Hi, I’m Kyle.” His voice slid over her like pure silk. He took her hand and reached in to kiss her on the cheek. “Wow, you’re beautiful.”

  “Thanks. It’s all my mom’s doing. Where are you from, Kyle?”

  “I’m from Henderson, Nevada. Not far from Vegas, and I’m a game designer.”

  “Sounds exciting. I’d love to hear more about your work later.”

  Kyle leaned in and gave her another kiss on her cheek before heading down the path to her future. Or not. She’d reserve that decision for later, but she liked what she saw, especially his dark green eyes.

  Next came William the charter pilot, who gave her plastic wings and asked her to come fly with him, and then two more men, and finally the last one for this limo, Chris. Out of all the men, he had to be the shortest, and as Denise looked him straight on at the brow line, she’d put him at five-six. Only a problem if she wore heels, which she hardly ever did. He introduced himself as a car salesman from Dubuque, Iowa.

  As soon as Chris the salesman headed up the path, Chris the host joined her.

  “So we’re halfway there. What are your thoughts so far about the guys?”

  “I think your team did an excellent job and if the next half is anything like the men I’ve met so far, I’m going to have trouble making my selections today.”

  Before Chris could respond a beep-beep caught Denise’s attention. She turned to ask Chris about the approaching scooter—she’d been told this section of the park had been closed off—but he’d disappeared again.

  The scooter stopped in front of her and the guy took off his helmet. Striking blue eyes above a friendly, playful smile stared back. “Hi, I’m Max. Wanna go for a spin?”

  She laughed despite herself. “Um, maybe later. I’m not really supposed to leave yet. Are you in the right place?”

  He parked the scooter and joined her on the grass. “I don’t know. Are you single and looking for Mr. Right?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “Then I’m definitely where I should be.”

  His smile was contagious. “So, Max, what do you do when you’re not out sweeping women off their feet with your scooter, and where are you from?”

  “I shape the minds of tomorrow’s leaders. Or rather, I try to teach high school students math in Lemoore, which is a small town surrounded by five million cows.”

  “Sounds like a hotbed of excitement. Hopefully, we can talk some more later, and maybe even go for that spin you offered.”

  Where were the math teachers like him when she was in school?

  The third limo pulled up and she greeted her next suitor.

  “Hi. I’m Jordan from Baltimore.” He gave her a reserved hug and stepped back without letting go of her hand. He was a few inches taller than her, with cocoa brown skin and milk chocolate eyes. She tried to think why he looked familiar and then it hit her: He could be Shemar Moore’s double.

  “Hi.” Her greeting came out all breathy and made him smile. “I’m Denise from Providence. What do you?”

  “I’m a forensic scientist.”

  Shut the front door. He was a scientist, she was a doctor . . . same thing. Clearly she’d found her soul mate. She saw the producer out of the corner of her eye telling her to move it along. Whatever. She didn’t want to move to the next guy, she wanted to stare into Jordan’s eyes and lose herself in his smile. “I’d love to hear about your work. Promise you’ll find me?”

  She let him go only after he promised and she shot the producer an exasperated look—they could edit it or not, she didn’t care. The next guy out was a tall redhead with sea-foam green eyes named Roan who designed homes that blended with the environment. He was sweet and charming and definitely another possible keeper. So far they’d all been great.

  Blake from New York was next up. “This is for you.” He handed her a small sculpture of two intertwining keys. “I wanted to create something for you that not only represents me as an artist but represents what this journey is about, two lost souls exchanging the keys to their hearts with the other.”

  The present touched her. He had carved the soapstone just for her. Not a lot of men would go to such trouble, and she knew no matter what the outcome of this venture, whether Blake was standing there at the end or not, she’d always treasure his gift.

  The next guy out of the limo was Caden, a web engineer from Seattle who stood a good six feet tall with sandy blond hair and soft, smoky gray eyes. She couldn’t remember if she’d put down on her profile that she liked tall men, but she wasn’t about to complain.

  After Caden came Zach.

  “Hey, how yoo doin’?” he asked.

  “I’m good. Is that a New York accent I detect?”

  “Good ear. I’m from Da Bronx, but I work in Manhattan as a pastry chef.”

  Her ears perked up. A man who can bake? She must be in heaven.

  “As a matter of fact, I have a little something for you to send your taste buds on a delectable voyage.” He pulled a white paper bag out of his pocket and handed it to her.

  She slid the goody out into her hand and gave a little aww. He’d baked her a dark chocolate cookie with a white heart swirled on the top. “You are so sweet. I’m going to save this for later, when I need a little pick-me-up, but thank you.” She kissed him on the cheek and watched him walk up the path.

  Quickly, before Chris could join her or the other limo could arrive, she ran the men’s names through her head: Josh, Aaron, Jerry and Duke, James, Brandon, Kyle with the green eyes, William the pilot, what’s-his-name and I-completely-forget. Then came Max of the scooter gang, Jordan (sigh), redheaded Roan, Blake the artist, Caden, and a man after her heart, Zach the pastry chef. Not bad considering there were only
two names she couldn’t recall.

  “So you’ve met sixteen of your twenty-one men so far. Have any of them made an impression on you?” Chris asked with that smile America has come to love.

  “Oh, well, yeah. Really, all of them seem like great guys. All incredibly good-looking and so sweet. Josh’s hug at the beginning set the tone for me. I knew from that moment on, everything was going to be okay and I could do this. And then there was Duke with Jerry. I don’t know which was cuter. And Max on his scooter? I never had any math teachers who were fun. Mine were all stuffy and old.”

  “What did you think of the sculpture Blake gave you?”

  “You know, that was probably one of the most thoughtful gifts I’ve ever received. He’s quite talented. I’m also dying to sample Zach’s cookie. That guy knows the way to a woman’s heart.”

  “The last limo is almost here with your five final men and I think you’re going to be even more impressed and shocked. As a matter of fact, here it comes. Good luck and I’ll see you in a bit.”

  The director yelled “Cut” and the makeup girl ran up to her to wipe the shine off, and then the cameras repositioned. Chris’s comment raced around in her brain. Why would she be shocked or need luck? Were they all going to be drop-dead gorgeous? She didn’t need looks to capture her heart. A guy with a kind heart, a sense of humor, intelligence, and who felt she was the only woman in the world for him would work. Finally satisfied, the director yelled “Action,” and the last limo crept forward.

  Oh, he was just too pretty for words. The guy walking toward her was easily six feet tall, blond on blue with chiseled cheeks, flawless skin, and moved with a grace and elegance she could never master.

  “Hi, I’m Dillon.” He moved in for a hug, making it quick, like he was afraid she’d wrinkle his pressed shorts and a button-up shirt that he might have dragged out of the laundry basket. “You’re stunning.”

  Aw. Well, that’s all that matters, right? That she’d look great on his arm.

  “So nice to meet you, Dillon. Is that a Southern accent I hear?”

  “Tennessee bred and raised, that is until I moved out west to Los Angeles.” Except when he said it, it sounded like Angel-less. Cute and somewhat accurate.

  “What made you move?”

  “Modeling, plus it took me thousands of miles away from my batshit crazy family.”

  Okay, then. Note to self: Ask Dillon what constitutes “batshit crazy.”

  “I’ll see y’all up at the picnic and we can talk more.”

  “You betcha.” Hmm, maybe not, Dillon. She already had crazy in her own family.

  She turned back to the limo as an average height, stocky guy exited. He had black, wavy hair with dark brown skin from his Hispanic heritage. He’d dressed in casual cargo shorts, a plain crew neck T-shirt, and running shoes.

  “Hi. I’m Daniel from Tucson.” His eyes sparkled when he smiled.

  “So nice to meet you, Daniel. Quick, tell me something about yourself.”

  “I’m a personal trainer.”

  Okay, she’d been hoping for something more personal, like he loved cats or hated oatmeal or took tap lessons.

  Before she could say anything in response, he scooped her up in his arms and gave her a little toss. “I can also bench press two hundred pounds.”

  Impressive but scary. “Is that above average?”

  “Most guys can only do like one fifty, maybe one eighty if they work hard.”

  She didn’t know what else to say, so she did her usual “I’d love to hear more later” and watched him walk away. She met Ryan and Adam next, who thankfully didn’t try to bench press her. Both were sweet if not a little . . . disappointed to meet her instead of one of the past contestants. Or maybe they were nervous and didn’t know how to react with the camera rolling in their faces. She’d follow Steve’s advice and seek them out later to see if she got the same vibe or not.

  The director called “Cut” and Steve walked over to her. “You’re doing great, sweetheart. One more guy and then we’ll take you back to the tent, get you freshened up, do a couple of impression interviews, and then cut you loose on the men. Are you okay? Suddenly you look a little pale.”

  “Too much sun and too many men.” She laughed. “I’ll be okay. One more, easy-peasy. Bring it on, big guy.”

  The camera started rolling at the director’s orders and the last man stepped out.

  “Skata!” Denise muttered under her breath, not caring if the mic picked up the swear word or not. She looked to Steve, the producer who had befriended her. He mouthed sorry and looked away. Fine, she could do this. She’d show them that she was made of tougher stuff than they expected. New Englanders didn’t tuck tail and run when a storm came their way.

  “Hi. I’m Brody. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Hours had passed since he’d stepped out of the limo. During that time he’d played a game of flag football—the producers had deemed touch too dangerous. He’d tossed a Frisbee with Jerry and his dog, Duke, overheard a few conversations that had sent his blood pounding, and been ignored by Denise.

  As he leaned against one of the trees just outside the picnic area the show had set up, he zeroed in on Ryan and Adam, who had ridden with him in the car. Okay guys. Both appeared to be there for the right reasons, although in his opinion neither was right for Denise. Then again, he doubted he’d approve of anyone. She slipped her hand around Kyle the game guy’s arm and walked off to a secluded spot they had set up for her private chats. His gut locked up. She laughed and leaned in close. Cripes, it was only the first day. Was she going to kiss him already?

  Brody looked away to watch a couple of kids across the park kick a soccer ball. He hadn’t even realized he’d turned his attention back to Denise and the game guy until someone said something to him.

  “Sorry, was lost in my head,” Brody lied.

  “Probably a better place to be than sitting here watching everyone else get time with her.” Roan leaned against the other side of the tree and pointed to a group of guys by the grill. “Others act like they’re just here for the free booze.”

  “What about you?” Brody studied the guy, noting soft lines at the corners of his eyes and a few streaks of lighter hair at the temples. At least he wasn’t a kid, like a few of the guys. “You in this for love, fame, or the travel?”

  Roan met his gaze, quirked a brow and one side of his mouth. “I’ve got all the fame I need, where it counts the most, with my job, and I can travel anytime I want.”

  “You?”

  “I like my privacy. Won’t mind a vacation, but I can think of more relaxing ways to spend it than with a dozen guys and twice as many cameras.”

  Denise let go of gamer boy’s arm, kissed him on the cheek, and headed his way. She looked good, sun-kissed on her face and especially her nose, in her flirty dress, a rarity for the woman he knew.

  “Hi, Roan. I swear I haven’t forgotten about you. First, they want you over in the interview tent. I promise we’ll talk as soon you’re done.”

  “No problem. I’ll come find you.” He said bye to Brody and headed off.

  Denise took Roan’s place against the tree, stealing Brody’s water bottle. “Making friends, I see.”

  “He seems decent, unlike a few of the others.”

  “What are doing here, Brody?”

  “Where’s the camera crew?”

  “I don’t know. Either they’re all busy with the guys or they’re letting us talk off screen to keep the viewers in the dark. So tell me,” she turned to him, “how is it you came to step out of a limo three thousand miles from home?”

  Brody turned to face her, resting his arm over her head, ignoring the bark cutting into his skin. He leaned in close enough to smell the chocolate on her breath, to notice the goose bumps dancing down her arms and watch her pupils expand and eat up the green.

  “I’m here to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

  “Brody, I’m a big girl. I can protect myself. Been doing it f
or several years now.”

  Whether she knew it or not, she shifted, bringing their bodies in contact.

  “This is different. The show thrives on drama and conflict. That’s not you. How many guys have you dated?”

  She handed the bottle back to him. “Are you saying I’m naïve?”

  He took a long slug of water. This was dangerous territory and he didn’t want to piss her off the first day, or for her to send him packing.

  “No, but I happen to know under that tough I-can-take-care-of-myself exterior is a soft heart that always wants to believe people mean what they say.”

  She took the water bottle back, finishing it off. A few of the guys had turned their attention to them. He didn’t think Denise realized how intimate they looked to the others, standing off in the shade, half-concealed from the world, sharing his drink.

  “Brody, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You didn’t need to come out here, especially not as one of the bachelors, to save me. I’ll do the right thing at the ceremony and get you out of here. I’d better go. I still haven’t talked to Roan and a couple of the others, and I know they’re going to pull me away soon to get ready for the grand finale.” She took a step out from under his arm and stopped. “Smile. A few more hours and you’ll be on your way home.”

  She walked away from him. Again. He watched her hips sway and the skirt swing and wondered what the hell was he doing here. He should take the out, go home and get back to work before he didn’t have a practice left. Denise slowed her steps and looked over her shoulder at him. The smile didn’t reach her eyes, eyes that he’d swear hadn’t looked glossy a few minutes earlier.

  Screw it all.

  Brody went after her, reaching out to touch his fingertips with hers. She spun around and looked up at him with those soft green eyes of hers that killed him every time.

  “Maybe I have other reasons for being here.” Brody pulled her closer, not caring that they were causing a stir among the other contenders.

  “You think that’s a good idea?”

  He didn’t know what he thought anymore and that was the problem.