The Engagement Game

by Talia Hunter

  He shook his head. “It was one night. Not enough time for breaking hearts. And it happened while you and I were taking a break,” he added with a glance at Bozier. The director looked so delighted, he was practically rubbing his hands together with glee.

  Jake narrowed his eyes. Could this have been a set up? They’d given all the contestants in-depth interviews, and Sally might easily have mentioned his name. He wouldn’t put it past Bozier to have given him and Carin the part for that very reason. These kinds of shows thrived on drama.

  “Oh,” said Carin as though she’d just remembered. “That’s Sally. You told me about her.”

  Jake blinked. He hardly ever mentioned the women he dated to her, let alone gave their names.

  Carin stepped closer and took his arm. “Anyway,” she said to Timmy. “Shall we get on with it?”

  The presenter looked like he was in no hurry to continue, but both Sally and Carin had their lips pressed together, silently glaring at the other. Sam put one arm around his fiancée and glowered at Jake.

  Great. Five minutes into filming, and Jake was already certain this TV show would be the worst experience of his life.

  Timmy cleared his throat, probably disappointed that the situation hadn’t devolved into a bare-knuckle brawl. “As Jake and Carin are stepping in to replace the couple we lost, they will inherit their points,” he said.

  “What?” demanded Sam and Sally in unison.

  “That’s not fair,” grumbled another contestant. He wore lycra shorts and no shirt, and his muscles were impressive. So were his fiancée’s. They looked like a pair of bodybuilders. If Jake and Carin had been trying to win the competition, he would have said they were the couple to beat.

  The third couple were also muttering angrily. They were thin and hollow-eyed. Before they came to Lantana Island, they were probably perfectly nice people. Now they looked like they’d like to kill him, skin him, and chew on his bones.

  Timmy turned to Jake and Carin. “You may not leave the beach during the competition, unless competing in one of the challenges. You’ll eat the fish you catch, and sleep on the sand. The other teams had an entire day to build their shelters, but you’ll need to build yours in your own time, after the day’s challenge is over.”

  Timmy waved his hand toward three ramshackle structures that had been erected on the beach. The other teams had leaned long pieces of driftwood and branches together to make rudimentary teepees, and had wrapped T-shirts around the wood. Unimpressive, to say the least, especially because they were sleeping on the sand, and though it was warm during the day, it would get cold and damp at night. Why hadn’t the other teams at least laid down a bed of leaves to keep them dry?

  There was no way Jake would put up with being that uncomfortable tonight. Shame he wouldn’t get all day to work on building a shelter, but as long as he got time to gather some decent foliage, he and Carin wouldn’t have to wake up cold.

  “It’s still not fair,” complained Mr. Bodybuilder. “The competition’s rigged.”

  A single wrinkle appeared in Timmy's forehead. Obviously his heavily-botoxed version of a frown. After a deep breath, he smoothed it away and summoned a white-toothed smile. “Now it’s time to explain today’s challenge. Are you ready to start your Labor of Love?” He said the name of the show in a deep theatrical voice, like he was announcing a horror movie.

  Ms. Bodybuilder nodded, her glower fixed on Jake and Carin. Her body was coiled and her muscles contracted, like a runner at the starting gate waiting for the pistol.

  “The key to a successful marriage is being in balance with each other,” announced Timmy. “And today, you’ll need to prove your balance. On that.” He pointed to something in the water and Jake squinted to see what it was. A buoy, perhaps? It didn’t look very big.

  “The rules of today’s challenge are simple. Each couple will have a turn to balance. The winner will be the couple who stays upright the longest, with no part of their bodies touching the water.”

  That didn’t sound hard. Jake glanced at Carin. What was the catch? Surely the challenge couldn’t be that simple? She met his gaze and gave a tiny shrug, as though to say that she didn’t get it either.

  “Cut,” called Bozier from his spot on the sidelines. “Okay, that wasn’t bad. Let’s run though it again.” He turned to Jake and Carin. “You two, back up to the path. When you see my hand drop, walk back onto the beach like you’re arriving for the first time.”

  Again? Jake hunched his shoulders. It was hot enough standing on the beach in the blistering sun. How many times would they have to shoot the same scene?

  Turned out they had to shoot it four more times before Bozier was satisfied. By then, Jake was thoroughly fed up. It was a relief when Bozier told them they’d get to attempt the challenge first.

  “Great,” said Carin with a smile that was as bright and perky on the fifth take as it had been on the first. With a flick of her hand, she unbuttoned her shorts, pushed them down her long thighs, and stepped out of them. Then she pulled her top off over her head. “I’m looking forward to getting in the water, aren’t you, Jake?”

  Jake couldn’t answer. If he’d opened his mouth, all that would have come out was a groan. Carin wore a red bikini and her wireless mic was pinned between the swell of her breasts. Though he’d seen her in a bikini plenty of times, he’d never get used to the sight. And when she turned and walked toward the water, her gait reminded him of a high-performance race car. She moved as though her hips were on rails, sliding from side to side. If she were a movie, she’d be The Fast and The Furious: Fiji Drift.

  Bozier cleared his throat, dragging Jake’s attention from Carin’s ass. “Have the crew bring the boats in,” Bozier said to one of his assistants. Then the director hurried to catch up to Carin. “Let me give you some notes,” he said, putting his hand on the small of her back.

  Jake ground his teeth. Carin was in a bikini and now the bastard was interested in her? He was a walking cliché. Didn’t he know what had happened to Weinstein? He’d better watch his step if he didn’t want Jake’s fist to help him remember.

  Problem was, Carin had been starved of attention from her emotionally-absent parents, so she was vulnerable. Not to mention the disappointment of being written out of the TV show she’d had a part in, and her assumption it was because of the way she looked. Jake had tried over and over to reassure her, but the damage he’d done by kissing another girl had made her insecurities worse.

  Now it was up to him to make sure nobody hurt her like that again.

  “Hi,” said a female voice beside him. “I’ll take you down to the boat.” Jake turned to see one of Bozier’s assistants smiling at him. “I’m Penelope,” she said.

  “Jake.” No doubt Penelope knew his name already, but she offered her hand and he shook it. Was it his imagination or was her smile flirtatious?

  “Nice to meet you, Jake.” She glanced back to where Sam and Sally were glaring after him. “You’re quite the player aren’t you?”

  “You’ve got the wrong idea,” Jake said through gritted teeth.

  “Well,” she said with a laugh, not letting go of his hand. “I guess you don’t play around now that you’re engaged?”

  He grunted, extracted himself from her grip, and thrust his hands into the pockets of his boardshorts.

  Though Penelope looked a little disappointed, he wasn’t about to encourage her. For years Jake had been searching for a woman who’d help him forget his feelings for Carin, but lately, it had seemed more and more pointless. Nobody could stop him thinking about Carin that way.

  He glanced to where Bozier was deep in conversation with Carin, his hand still resting on her back. Carin’s face was lifted to the director’s and when she laughed at something he said, the sound cut Jake’s heart like a knife.

  “What’s he like?” Jake asked, nodding over at them. His voice came out gruff.

  “Who, Bozier?” Penelope hesitated. “He’s not as bad as some.”


  He gave her a sharp sideways look. “High praise.”

  Penelope shook her head. “I mean, he’s okay. He’s pretty much top dog in the Australian TV industry, so if he takes a shine to Carin, she could be offered other opportunities.”

  “That’s what I figured,” muttered Jake.

  Carin laughed again and Jake looked away from her and Bozier. With his track record, what right did he have to object to anything Carin did? Still, this week in so-called paradise was turning into a worse hell than he could ever have imagined.

  8

  The buoy they were supposed to balance on had been greased.

  Jake should have guessed the challenge would be designed to titillate a TV audience, and he figured Carin’s wet, bikini-clad body clambering onto a small, oily piece of floating plastic would have plenty of viewer appeal. Especially because whatever oil they’d used was shiny, and after climbing onto the buoy they were both covered with it.

  He and Carin had to cling to each other to stay on the buoy. With every wave they wobbled dangerously, almost losing their balance.

  The worst part about the challenge was having to hang onto Carin’s bare skin with oily hands, because it made Jake’s mind jump to more intimate thoughts of slippery nakedness. The crew were filming from boats around them, and any minute their footage was going to include pictures of him cracking a serious boner.

  To hell with that.

  Jake shifted his weight to throw the float off balance. He’d always been competitive and it went against his nature to take a dive. But the alternative was busting out the front of his shorts.

  Carin shrieked and clutched him, trying to steady the buoy. Too late. They both went head-first into the sea.

  “That was quick,” said Bozier with a frown as they were pulled onto one of the support boats.

  Jake shrugged. “I thought you wanted us to lose.”

  “Not that fast. And you don’t need to lose all the challenges, just don’t win the competition.”

  Jake thought he was going to tell them to try again, but Bozier turned away to talk into his walkie-talkie, asking one of the crew on the beach to get another couple ready for the challenge.

  “You did that on purpose,” hissed Carin into his ear.

  “Does it matter?” he met her gaze with his emotions on strict lock-down so she wouldn’t guess the way his pulse was pounding and his blood pumping hot through his veins. “You don’t care about doing well in these challenges, do you?”

  “I don’t want to look like a total loser.”

  “And I want to make sure we get eliminated quickly.”

  Still frowning, she slicked her wet hair back out of her eyes. Then she sighed, her shoulders relaxing. “Okay, fair enough. But next time can we try to look a little less hopeless?” She shook her head, her natural good humor returning. “At least now we’ll have more time to build our shelter. Shame we won’t get any points for it, because that challenge would have been right up your alley.”

  As the boat sped back to the shore to drop them off, Jake realized he was actually looking forward to building the shelter. From the treehouse he’d constructed as a kid, to the model planes and boats he’d put together as a teenager, to the first house he’d worked on in his father’s firm, building was something he did for fun. Used to do, he corrected. These days his job was all planning, putting together proposals, and organizing teams. None of the hands-on stuff he liked.

  Once they were back on the beach, Jake walked up to the tree line to look for dropped branches. One of the cameramen stayed on the beach to film him, and the two couples waiting for their turn to compete were sitting on the sand, glaring at him. He’d just have to ignore them all.

  Carin walked with him, her eyes shining. Unlike him, she loved the camera and soaked up attention like a sponge. She looked as happy here as she did when she was telling stories to the kids at the hospital. And that was enough for him to bite his tongue and go along with whatever ridiculous things the TV crew wanted him to do.

  Together they collected enough branches to make a satisfactory pile on the beach. “What we haven’t got is any nails, or rope,” said Jake, when they were done. “We have to find a way to attach one piece of wood to another.”

  “Rope,” said Carin thoughtfully, walking to the jungle that grew thickly to the edge of the sand. “Check out these leaves. Maybe we could use them?” She tugged on one of the long, blade-like leaves. “Ow! It sliced my finger. The edge is serrated.”

  “Let me see.” He held his hand out, trying not to get distracted by the way water droplets were still dribbling from her long hair down the curves of her breasts and disappearing into her cleavage.

  She shook her head. “It’s nothing. A scratch. But if we’re going to use these leaves, we’ll need to find something sharp to cut them with.”

  Jake searched the sand until he found a strong, thick shell with a sharp enough edge. Handling a leaf carefully, he used the shell to slice it off the tree, then cut it into long, thin strips.

  “Good work, Tarzan,” said Carin with a grin. “Cut some more leaves and I’ll weave them together.”

  Jake smiled back. Despite the camera still trained on them and the weirdness of this whole situation, he enjoyed figuring out practical solutions to problems. He sliced off more long leaf strips and Carin bound them all together into a rough, lumpy rope that was surprisingly strong.

  “Teamwork,” she said with satisfaction, when they had a short length. “That’s the secret.” She glanced at the camera. “Right, Sugar?”

  Jake clenched his jaw. “Don’t call me Sugar.”

  Her eyes were dancing. “I don’t think we’ve ever settled on a pet name for you, have we, Honey Bear?”

  He was all too aware of the microphones recording their conversation. But two could play that game, and there was no way he’d be Honey Bear for the rest of their stay. “No need to get creative. Isn’t that right, Sweet Cheeks?”

  She made a choking sound. “Okay, you win. You’re Jake, I’m Carin.”

  “Jake and Skeeter,” he corrected, unable to resist. He’d made up a lot of nicknames for her over the years, and they’d watched hundreds of movies together. But after they saw The Help, the name Skeeter had stuck.

  “Okay, I don’t mind that one. Want to cut some more leaf strips for me?”

  “Coming right up.” When she had enough for a second rope, he walked over to examine the pile of driftwood again. Without an axe to cut any more wood, it was all they had to work with. He used a stick to draw a possible structure and studied it for a while. Then he scratched it out and drew a new one.

  When he was on his fifth drawing, Carin came to see what he was doing. “Nice design.” She pointed to the lines in the sand. “Is that where you’re putting the jacuzzi? And over there is the ensuite bathroom, right? Can we have a walk-in wardrobe as well?”

  “Of course,” he said absently. All joking aside, if he’d had enough wood, he’d build a two-bedroom shelter. No chance of that. Still, he’d make the structure as large as possible so he wouldn’t have to sleep pressed up against Carin.

  “The other teams’ shelters are teepees,” he added. “We can do better. Ours will be a lean-to.”

  Carin shaded her eyes to study the other teams’ shelters. “They don’t look very sturdy.”

  “If they built them weeks ago, I’m surprised they’ve lasted this long. And it can’t have rained much, because they would have gotten soaked.” He used his stick to point to his design. “We’ll make a wooden frame, and crisscross other pieces over the top to brace it. We can weave those flat leaves into the structure. If we layer them on and cover the whole lot with palm fronds, it should be waterproof.”

  Carin grimaced. “Sounds like a lot of work.”

  The other contestants were sitting a short distance away, and one of them yelled something that Jake didn’t catch. He turned to see the man who looked like a body-builder making a rude gesture.

  “What did he
say?” he asked Carin.

  “He asked if we need some Viagra to get our shelter erected.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Trash talk. Benchpress is trying to goad us.”

  “Benchpress. Good name.”

  She grinned. “His fiancée is Treadmill. And that other couple are the Wolves.”

  “The Wolves?”

  “They look the hungriest, don’t they? Like they haven’t eaten since they got here. They make me think of that ‘Hungry Like the Wolf’ song from the eighties.”

  Jake choked back a laugh, conscious that microphones were picking up everything they said. “Come on, let’s get our shelter built.”

  “How should we start?” She leaned over, giving him an eyeful of her scantily-clad breasts as she examined the pile of building materials they’d collected. “Should I grab a long piece of wood?” As she tugged a piece from the pile, he had to bite back a groan. “Are you sure this wood isn’t too soft?” she asked, still bent over, oblivious to how that position displayed the silky skin of her breasts to perfection.

  Having spent his entire adult life as an ardent admirer of Carin’s breasts, Jake would have sworn he knew them well. But seeing her bent over wearing only a bikini top gave him an entirely new appreciation for their beauty. Their shape made him think of perfectly ripe apples. And sex. And stroking. Lots of stroking. His hands itched with the need to feel their weight and run his fingers over her nipples, teasing them into achingly hard pebbles. Her breasts cried out to be licked and kissed and worshipped, and he was just the man to—

  No.

  Jake clenched his hands into fists, trying unsuccessfully to force his gaze away from Carin. “It’s not soft at all,” he gritted out through clenched teeth.

  “Okay. Well, this pole is long and thick.” She finally looked up and saw his expression. “What?”

  “Nothing.” His own wood was giving him hell, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. No matter how sexy she was, they’d erected high walls around their friend zone by mutual agreement. He’d spent years fortifying, electrifying, and arming those walls. He wasn’t about to let them crack.