Bachelor Games (Tropical Temptation)

by St. Denis, Daire

  If the viewers thought that Becca was an upset, they had no idea what was coming next.

  “Okay, people,” Eddie called. “We’re going live in ten…nine…eight…” The countdown went on, and Cal ground his teeth in preparation for Kevyn’s dramatic entrance.

  Kevyn Khan appeared in his typical, narcissistic fashion. Flashing his toothy grin, tossing his too-long hair, and working the crowd like a male stripper.

  “Well…this has been quite a day. Quite a turn of events.” The crowd cheered, though there were a few boos from the sidelines. Probably from disgruntled contestants. “We find ourselves in a very interesting situation. As it turns out, our Most Eligible Bachelor has feelings for two women. One of whom everyone knows—the contestant who is number one in the rankings, Ms. Grace Evans.”

  From behind a screen, Grace appeared at the mention of her name, waving to the spectators, blowing kisses and looking as sweet and demure as ever.

  “And the second contender for our bachelor’s affections is none other than Grace’s sister, Rebecca Evans. While she wasn’t an original contestant in the competition, because of unforeseen circumstances”—he cleared his throat suggestively—“she has agreed to take part in the final challenge. Would everyone please put their hands together for Rebecca!”

  The mob crowed, more boos than cheers. Cal gripped his chair. This was too much. Now that they were here and doing this live, in front of not only the spectators on the beach but millions of viewers, he wanted it all to end. When Becca didn’t immediately appear, Cal pushed himself to his feet, about to call the whole thing off.

  Suddenly a woman walked out from behind the screen, a woman Cal both recognized because of the way she moved and didn’t recognize because of the way she looked. She wore a low-cut, form-fitting coral dress. Her hair was styled into a fashionable updo, accentuating her long neck and delicate collarbone. She wore more makeup than he’d ever seen her wear—apart from when she’d been dressed up and pretending to be Grace. This woman was sophisticated and commercially beautiful.

  She was perfect. And yet Cal longed for the old Becca.

  His Becca.

  But this was all part of the plan.

  Once the crowd quieted down, she said, “Ah, Kevyn? My name is Becca. Not Rebecca.”

  “My bad,” Kevyn said, smiling boyishly, as if that was all that was required for his purposeful screwup. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the woman of the hour, Calum Price’s mystery friend, Becca Evans.”

  Becca climbed up the steps to the stage and sat beside Grace, facing Calum. He met both of their gazes. Were they ready for this?

  A subtle nod from Grace and a hardening of Becca’s features told him they were as ready as they’d ever be.

  “The final contest is a long-time favorite party game, Truth or Dare,” Kevyn sang. “Ladies, are you ready?”

  “We sure are, Kevyn,” Grace answered for both of them.

  “Becca, let’s start with you. Truth or Dare.”

  “Truth.”

  “Okay. Here’s a question everyone is dying to know. When did you and Calum first meet?”

  “We met in high school when he asked me out on a date.”

  The crowd went quiet.

  So did Kevyn. He cleared his throat. “Are you saying you met Calum Price in high school?”

  “Oh, sorry,” Becca said. “My mistake. I was referring to you, Kevyn. I met you in high school.”

  Good job, Bec.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kevyn laughed uneasily. “We’ve never met before.”

  “No? Are you sure? This is Truth or Dare, you do realize that, right?” Becca said, sounding completely at ease. God, he loved her right now.

  No. Not just right now. Cal loved this woman. Period.

  “Becca.” Kevyn chuckled again. “That’s not how this works. I ask the questions. You answer.”

  She ignored him. “Truth? Okay, what’s your real last name?”

  Before Kevyn could answer, Grace jumped in. “Oh, I know this one. It’s Wasinski. Kevyn Wasinski.”

  The smile fell from Kevyn’s face.

  Cal leaned forward, enjoying the show.

  “Next question, Kevyn,” Becca continued. “Truth or dare?”

  “We need to stop this right now—”

  “Truth it is, then,” Grace called. “How big is your penis?”

  There was a collective gasp from the crowd.

  “The answer is…about this big.” Becca used her pinky—curved and limp—to illustrate her point. “Ask me the next question, Grace?”

  “Truth or dare?”

  “Truth,” Becca said.

  “How do you know how big Kevyn’s penis is?”

  “Because Kevyn Wasinski asked me out when we were in high school, and then he showed me his dick, took pictures of me, and published them to the internet to humiliate me.”

  There were more gasps. Cal sat back, watching Kevyn flounder as he made the “cut” signal to try to put a stop to things. Unfortunately for him, the people filming were as curious about what would come next as the rest of the audience.

  “I’ve got another question, Kevyn,” Becca said, with calm dignity.

  Calum had never been prouder.

  “I don’t know what you’re doing or why you’re lying—” Kevyn sputtered, his lips pulled taut over his teeth.

  “Did you or did you not post pictures of me and Cal on the internet to once again humiliate me?”

  “You are one fucked-up, crazy bitch.”

  “Wow. That’s harsh. You really hate me, don’t you?”

  “No,” Grace offered. “He doesn’t hate you in particular. I think he hates all women.”

  “Do you think?” Becca asked.

  “Cut. Cut.” Kevyn stood in front of the nearest cameraman, trying to get him to turn off his camera. Eddie intervened by making the universal sign for “keep rolling.”

  Cal could not contain his grin.

  The girls ignored Kevyn and continued talking as if they were simply having a chat over a glass of wine instead of performing for millions of viewers.

  “Actually,” Grace said. “I think he did it because he wishes he were Cal.”

  “You might be right.” Becca nodded. “Classic penis envy.” She shrugged. “And because I’ve seen both? Kevyn’s right to be envious.”

  The crowd went nuts, and Cal stood up, making his way to the sisters, who had pulled this stunt off better than he ever could have imagined. “Well done, ladies. Well done,” he whispered.

  Gesturing for them to stand, Cal draped his arms around the women, facing the cameras and the crowd. “I want to thank all of you for joining me and Men’s Magazine on this wild and crazy week-long journey. I’m as sad as you are that it’s all come to an end.”

  There was a smattering of applause amid groans.

  “But, it’s that time, ladies and gentlemen. Time to declare a winner.” He released the women. “Who is it going to be? Grace?” He gestured to Grace, and the crowd went crazy. “Or Becca?” The crowd was not as enthusiastic for her, but at least they were kinder than when she’d first come out.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the Miss Temptation Pageant is…Grace Evans!”

  Grace squealed and hugged Cal, and the crowd went wild.

  Cal glanced at Becca. She winked, and his heart swelled with love.

  “Grace, I’m sending you on an all-expenses paid trip to Paris for two. Unfortunately, I will not be able to join you. Because…” Taking Becca’s hand, he said, “There is another winner.” Turning to the woman who was not only the most beautiful creature he’d ever met, but the smartest, strongest, and the most loyal. “Becca, you may not have been a contestant in the pageant, but you have won my heart. Thank you for bumping into me at the airport. Thank you for mocking me and drooling on my shirt and for just being you.”

  Becca threw her arms around him, but before Cal could kiss her, she was torn from his arms by a red-fac
ed Kevyn Wasinski.

  “You bitch! You’re not going to get away with this.”

  And finally, Cal was able to give in to the urge he’d been fighting all week. He plowed his fist straight into Kevyn’s jaw, knocking him to the ground. “That’s for all of the women you’ve used and humiliated. But most of all, that’s for Becca.”

  …

  The last sixteen hours at the resort consisted of a blur of interviews and photo ops. Becca saw very little of Cal, as they’d agreed to keep their distance, at least until they were off the island. Grace spent as much time as possible with her newfound father, and after a tearful farewell on Friday morning, the two promised to keep in touch. Every day. Three times a day.

  On the flight home, this time all three—Becca, Calum and Grace—had seats in first class. Grace sat in the seat in front of them and made a habit of popping up, like a gopher, to make comments like, “You two are so adorable.” And, “I couldn’t have picked a better match for my sister.”

  Becca smiled, but there was something still unsettled in the pit of her stomach, and she waited until Grace was on her way to the restroom—wasn’t a long wait, only a half hour into the flight—that Becca broached the subject with Cal. “Can I ask you a really huge favor?”

  “Sure, as long as I can ask one in return.”

  Fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, she said, “Please don’t take over the management of the resort. Please don’t build those condos.”

  Cal carefully took her hand from his shirt and held it. “Becca, I know you think—”

  “Jeffrey’s my sister’s dad. He’s family.” She shook her head. “I know it’s a lot of money, and it’s a lot to ask, but—”

  She didn’t finish her sentence because Calum shut her up with a kiss. “Can I speak now?” he asked, his lips lingering next to hers.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not going to win the vote, and I’m not going to sell my shares. The resort is going to remain as is.”

  Becca breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I know this week has been a bust for you, and I’m sorry about that, but you’re making the right decision.”

  “This week hasn’t been a bust.” He kissed her softly again. “I met you, didn’t I?”

  “Sheesh.” Grace’s face popped over the seat from in front of them. “Get a room, already.” She pointed up the aisle from where she’d just come. “Bathroom’s free. You could always become members of a certain, exclusive club.” She waggled her brows.

  Becca glanced at Calum, and they both burst out laughing at the same time.

  The remainder of the flight flew by as they discussed their favorite books, places they wanted to travel, their upbringings…

  There were endless things to talk about.

  Like…where did they go from here?

  It was a question that was on Becca’s tongue the entire flight home, but she was unable to voice it. Even after landing and retrieving their luggage, Becca still hadn’t mentioned it. But then, Cal hadn’t said anything, either.

  Once they were out of the gates, there was a throng of reporters waiting for them. Cal handled them like a pro—one more reason to love the man—putting his arm around both her and Grace and guiding them to the exit while blocking them from the flashing cameras and the pushy, pointed questions.

  There were two limos waiting outside, and Cal opened the door to one, helping Grace inside.

  Becca went to crawl in beside her sister, but Cal stopped her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Home.”

  He shook his head. “You owe me. You’re coming with me.”

  “Where are you taking her?” Grace asked from within the limo. “Are you jetting off to Paris?”

  “No. Somewhere better.”

  “Bec?” Grace motioned for her to come close.

  “Yes?”

  “Go. Enjoy yourself. Have some fantastic sex with that man.”

  “Grace!”

  “Oh, and Becca?”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “Stop worrying about me. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”

  “Grace…”

  “No.” Grace held up a finger in protest. “I need to take care of myself. Okay?”

  Becca nodded in acquiescence. “Love you, sis.”

  “Love you, too. To the moon and back,” Grace responded with a smile and a wave.

  Then the door was closed and her limo eased forward, making room for the next one. Once they were safely inside their own limo and had escaped the media that attempted to follow them, Becca sat back. “So…where are we going?”

  “Let’s just say I want to show you a side of me that no one else has ever seen.” From within the mini-fridge, he opened a bottle of champagne, poured some into two glasses, and handed one to her. “It’s not a mimosa, but it’s half right.”

  “It’s wonderful.”

  They rode in near silence as the limo took them through Queens, the Bronx, and finally exited onto I-80 into New Jersey. The closer they got to their mystery destination, the quieter Cal became.

  “What is this?” Becca asked as the limo pulled up in front of a high school in Paterson, New Jersey an hour later. “What are we doing here?”

  Cal came around to her side of the car, opened the door, and extended his hand to help her out. “You’ll see.”

  She followed him into the school, and she realized they were not alone. Voices wafted out from the open door of the gymnasium that was set up like a banquet hall, with round tables filled with people finishing a dinner and the place decorated with streamers and balloons. The two of them tiptoed inside the dim room so as not to disturb the man who was currently speaking at the front of the room. They listened for a few minutes, and Becca realized it was a retirement speech.

  “That’s my dad,” Cal finally whispered.

  “Your dad?”

  “Yes. He’s been the custodian here for thirty years.” Cal inhaled deeply. “We didn’t have much, growing up…”

  She squeezed his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me we were coming here?”

  He gazed at her, and a contented smile lit his eyes.

  “Calum, is that you?” his father asked from behind the microphone. “You made it! Come on up here.”

  “Go on,” Becca urged.

  Cal made his way to the front of the room and hugged his father. Tears stung her eyes as Cal turned to the mic and said a few words about his dad.

  He talked about how his father had given up his dreams as a musician to provide for him and his mother, who’d been diagnosed with MS after Cal was born. How his father had never complained and never taken a sick day. “There was a time when I didn’t understand the sacrifice my father made. When I was a kid and went to school here, well…” He paused. “It wasn’t always easy. Let’s just say, kids can be mean.” He glanced at his father. “And stupid.”

  His dad nodded, understanding what he was trying to say, that Calum hadn’t always been proud of his father’s occupation.

  “But now that I’m an adult, I want you to know how proud I am to be your son. I admire you, more than you know, and I only hope that one day I will be as good a man as you are.”

  The applause was deafening. It was so loud that Becca didn’t realize someone had moved up beside her. “You must be Becca.”

  “Yes.” Becca turned to the voice and realized it was a woman in a wheelchair.

  “I’m Lila, Calum’s mother.” She stretched out her hand. “And I have to tell you, I loved you in that show. You sure gave that jerk, Kevyn, a piece of your mind. Wonderful!”

  Amidst the tears, Becca laughed.

  The speeches ended, and Calum introduced Becca to his parents and friends. Then, suddenly, music blared out of the sound system, and the dance portion of the evening began.

  “Oh!” Mrs. Price clapped. “It’s ‘The Time of My Life’ from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack. It’s my all-time favorite movie—you two better go dance.” Her eyes lit, and sh
e grinned with wicked intent.

  “Thank you for bringing me here,” Becca said once she was in Cal’s arms on the makeshift dancefloor. “I like your parents.”

  “Thanks. So do I.” He spun her a couple of times and then said, “It’s not prom, but we are dancing in a high school gym.”

  “Do we get to have sex behind the bleachers later? Because that would make it all legit.”

  He laughed. “We could, but it sounds awfully uncouth, Ms. Evans.”

  “Probably uncomfortable, too,” Becca added with a smile.

  “Certainly unromantic.”

  Becca tapped her lips. “Oh, I don’t know about that. But without a doubt, it would be unsanitary.”

  “Hey. My dad’s been cleaning this joint for thirty years. Those bleachers are probably cleaner than your kitchen floor.”

  “Does that mean you want to have sex with me on my kitchen floor?”

  “Are you asking?”

  She jabbed him, and he laughed.

  “Becca? Is it too soon to have the ‘I think I’m in love with you’ talk?”

  “I don’t know. It does feel too soon and crazy, but…”

  “But?”

  “But I’m in love with you, so…I don’t really feel like keeping that inside. You know?”

  “Oh, thank God. Because I can’t take you to Paris if you’re not in love with me.”

  “You’re taking me to Paris?” she squealed, sounding almost exactly like her sister.

  “Hello? Get with the program. That’s the prize.”

  “I thought you were the prize.”

  “No. I’m not a prize. I’m just a man. From humble beginnings.” He gestured with his head toward the gym.

  “I love your humble beginnings.”

  “Yeah? Well, I love you.” Taking her hand, he pulled her off the dance floor.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I was thinking about checking to see how sanitary the conditions are behind those bleachers.”

  Becca wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed Cal. Full-on kissed him in front of everyone in the gym.

  She was in love with the best man ever, and she didn’t care who knew.

  Love was the best.