by Hoff, Stacy
“It doesn’t matter,” she finally said.
“It matters,” he said firmly.
“What about you?” she asked, desperately hoping to get the focus off her. “What’s your story?”
“There’s not much to know about me. I guess you can say I’m an open book.”
“There’s always a story.”
“See,” he joked, “that’s why you must be a terrific producer and novelist.”
“Tell me I’m right, that you do have a tale to tell.”
Chapter 10
“You know what you need to know,” Colin said. He hoped his voice was light, which was how he was going to keep control over this dangerous situation. And by ‘dangerous’ he didn’t mean the weather. He looked at her in her underwear and felt a tightening in his own. Given that she blew hot and cold faster than a Floridian storm, a smart person would assume she’d have no affect on him. They’d be wrong. He wanted her just as badly as he had back at the hotel. No. Worse. She looked ethereal with the firelight glistening off her wet skin. It flickered a red cast to her, matching her reddish hair. The light also showed off the tight, seductive underwear clinging to her body as if an ornate tattoo.
But it was more than her appearance. There was vulnerability about her that drew him in. And while she was vulnerable she also showed bravery. Opening up to him was obviously very hard for her. The fact that she was starting to trust him made him want to open up a bit of himself, too. He wanted to talk to her as much as he wanted to sleep with her. Not that the latter wasn’t exceedingly tempting.
In the reflection of her eyes, the flames danced. Her skin lit with an earthy golden glow. Shadows played across her breasts, making them seem rounder and firmer than he remembered a woman having. Her belly and thighs had a womanly roundness to them, too, gorgeous curves in all the right places. If he had any intelligence, he’d stop looking. Stop thinking about it, too. Not that much thought was necessary. It wasn’t hard for him to figure out he didn’t want anything as much as her right now. Not even the million-dollar prize stood a chance.
He shook away the sexual undertow dragging him down. It was time to start talking. “I joined the military,” he said finally. After years of keeping things to himself, and not caring about what he was feeling, he was unsure how to start talking. Really talking. “I learned a lot of things,” he started. “I’m good at handling deadly situations now. Like this,” he joked, gesturing to the wilderness around them. When in doubt, crack a joke.
“Why did you join the military?”
She looked at him dead on, her eyes intent. She obviously wasn’t going to be distracted by his attempt at humor. Not that he thought anything, or anybody, had the power to blow her off-course. Not even this cyclone. He got one thing about her—she was determined as hell. If she were in the military, he’d feel bad for the enemy. They wouldn’t stand a chance against her. Neither did he, obviously.
Taking a deep breath, he picked up a stick and pushed the twigs around in the fire with it. “My family was dirt poor. Literally, dirt. We had a farm that always seemed to suffer from droughts or insects or some other Biblical plague. Money was always tight.” His body visibly stiffened and he sat up straighter. “My mom died last year. My father died a few years back. That leaves me to try to help. Me and my brother, Howie. He does all the physical work. But someone’s got to make the money.”
Colin stared into the fire. Making all the money for the family had not been easy. He’d joined the Marines on his eighteenth birthday, despite his parents’ protests that they needed his help on the farm. He knew that no matter how hard he labored on the land, the only real way to keep it financially afloat was for him to earn money elsewhere and send it back home. He got lucky, showed real aptitude right from the start, and the Marines singled him out for Special Ops stardom. Colin worked hard at whatever they threw at him. They gave him different environments to fight in. Most of them bad. There were hostile weather conditions, or unbearable geological conditions, or wild animals, or terrorists. Or all of the above. Many difficult, dangerous years he spent trying to save his skin, the farm, and his family.
Very little romantic love during those years, though quite enough physical love, with very many women. Focus, however, had to remain on the game. One slip up on the job could cost him both his life and the financial collapse his family. Twenty years later, he was finally done with his military service and had almost achieved his financial goals.
Howie had wisely used Colin’s money to make things work better at home. The farm had new equipment now, and they’d hired some farmhands. Productivity was up. Soil quality remained good. But who knew what another drought or insect infestation would do? The farm always seemed to be hanging on day-to-day. What it needed was one last cash infusion to pay off the remainder—a three hundred thousand dollar balloon payment was almost due. He’d taken out a pretty significant loan to install new irrigation technology. Buy state-of-the-art tractors. Make a brand new, fresh start. For the farm. For him. Once the farm was taken care of, he could finally take care of himself.
He wondered what it would be like to finally take care of his own needs. If he could only get rid of the niggling feeling he wanted to take care of her, too. Not that she needed anyone to take care of her. Obviously, she was quite successful. So why the hell was he feeling this way? Lately, he didn’t understand himself at all.
“That’s why you’re doing the show—why you’ll risk your life for the money,” she said softly.
“If I don’t win the cash, the farm will be in trouble.” It was hard to speak with a tight throat. “I can’t lose the place. If I do, then Howie’s out of a job and a home. Our home.” He paused to let out a small cough to clear his constricted throat. “The entire region is struggling. Maybe he could get a job at another farm, but he might have to move far away to do it. And he wouldn’t get the same satisfaction working for someone else. Our farm is important to both of us. Some of our best memories are there, you know?”
“I can imagine. A lot of pressure on you.”
“Tell me about it. Fortunately, I was taught to never give up.”
“Yes, good thing,” she agreed. “Where’s your farm?”
“A dusty corner of Northeast Texas. Trust me, you wouldn’t have heard of the nearest town.”
“Being a city girl, would I at least be familiar with the type of things you grow? Or are New Yorkers totally unaware of things like vegetables?” She frowned.
He laughed. “No, you guys know about them. I’m sure I ate a few at the Carlyle Hotel.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Corn and cattle.” He watched a horrified expression mar her beautiful face. “Dairy cattle,” he clarified. “I told you, I try not to kill anything.”
“Oh,” she said soberly.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. That was fine by him, he was finished talking about the subject. With luck, she was, too.
“You’re not going to tell me any more, are you?” She tugged at a flyaway hair, escapees from her ponytail.
Did she have a nervous tick? Or was she ticked at him? Damn. He’d never figure her out. Why the heck would she be interested in all this? “You want to hear stories about a farm?” His voice captured a mixture of disbelief and hopefulness. Quickly, he closed the jaw that had sprung open in surprise.
“I want to hear your stories about your farm,” she corrected.
Maybe she was just interested in anything about him. That’d be, well, nice, actually. And unexpected. Women had never seemed too interested whenever he’d brought up farm talk. He’d learned not to bother. Mood Killer 101. Effective for putting people to sleep. Quicker than any pharmaceutical drug.
A hundred stories rushed through his head at once. “I’m not sure where to start,” he confessed. “I have so many memo
ries of growing up. Like, we’d feed the cows at dawn every day. Cows are like dogs in some ways, believe it or not.”
“Not.”
“No really, they come up to you and greet you. They’re affectionate. They’ve got these crazy long tongues that lick your hand whenever you offer them something to eat.” For some odd reason, she blushed when he said the word “licked.” He ignored the corresponding tug he felt in his underwear, and prayed she didn’t notice. Of course, how she could miss a twitching telephone pole, he wasn’t sure. Right. Gotta keep focused. “We’ve got better than six hundred acres of cornfields. Some of the corn we sell. Some goes into a silo where it’s stored for our cows to eat during the off-months.”
“So a silo is like a cow pantry?”
“Yeah, though I’ve never exactly thought of it that way. A silo is huge and cylindrical, so it’d be one helluva pantry. Tough to fit cabinet doors though.” He laughed. “How good is Bloomingdale’s houseware’s department?”
“Gracious Home on the Upper East Side would be better than Bloomingdale’s. They have a much bigger cabinetry selection.” She finally laughed back, but seemed as determined as ever to push on. “Tell me more about the cows.”
“Howie and I loved taking care of them. We’d spend all our time with them, as much as we could. The barn was as much a home to us as our actual house.” He stopped to gauge her interest again. If she was bored she certainly didn’t show it. Sitting cross-legged, elbows on her knees, chin propped up on her hands, she was leaning into him, as if trying to catch every word.
“You spent a lot of time with your brother, too, then,” she guessed, interrupting his assessment.
“Yeah. Howie liked the cows better than his classmates. He’s older than me. As the little brother, I had to get into a lot fights on his behalf. I didn’t mind.”
“Don’t you have that backwards? I thought the big brother was supposed to stand up for the little brother. That’s how it was in my house.”
“Yeah, but not in Howie’s case. He was too easy a target.”
“Oh? Why did the kids want to hurt him?”
“Because he had a lisp. And Howie was on the shorter side back then . . .” Colin felt his words trail off and a vision appear in front of him, as if out of the flames. Kids picking on Howie. Him stepping up to defend his brother. For as long as he could. Until he had to leave to defend the entire country. And the farm’s finances to boot. At this point, fighting was his second nature. Like a snake, it was a skin he’d been waiting to shed. Finally, everything was almost all resolved. And all the fighting could end.
“That’s terrible,” Stephanie said, her words breaking their silence.
“Terrible for his tormentors, you mean, because I beat the snot out of them. I was stronger than most kids and had an uncle who was in the Marines. He’d spent some time in Asia and picked up some karate techniques. It was a mishmash of Asian styles actually, a combination of fighting styles from all the places he had been. He taught me some moves, and I got good. I started going twice a week to a Ju-Jitsu class that was forty-five minutes away from the farm. Then I got really good. I kept up my training when I joined the Marines.”
“I’m glad you stuck up for your brother. Kids can be awful.”
“Yeah. I didn’t know who I hated more, the kids that picked on Howie or the bill collectors who always came calling.” He heard her let out a sad sigh and that encouraged him to go on. Unload his burden. After such a long time. “These sleazy-looking men would come around, shoving papers in my mom’s face. It seemed they could always figure out when my dad wasn’t home. After they’d leave, Howie and I would find her crying. She’d lie to us, say she was fine, or that her eyes watered from allergies. Sometimes she’d say dirt got stuck in her eye, or whatever, but we knew the truth. She was sad and trying to protect us from ‘grown up’ stuff.”
Colin straightened himself out. “I couldn’t wait to join the Marines. I saw my uncle as a real hero. He was the coolest guy ever, died about ten years ago. He and my mom were raised in Louisiana, and I learned a lot about swamp life from him. He loved the fishing down in the Bayou. Told Howie and me we couldn’t fish to save our lives. I’ve gotten better since then.” He grinned.
“Handy background, since they’re gators out here.”
“Oh my God, there are?” he said, shielding his face with his hands in mock horror.
“Funny. You’re hilarious.”
“Okay, sorry, no more jokes.” He paused, grinning again. “You know, if dealing with me is too hard on you, you can blame Howie.”
“That makes no sense. Why would I blame your brother for your bad jokes?”
“It’s his fault we met.”
“What are you talking about? We met because of Teleworld.”
“Yes, but it’s because of Howie that I became involved with Teleworld.” At her furrowed eyebrows and cocked head, he answered her unspoken question with a laugh. “Yes, even Texan farmers have the Internet. Howie, as it turns out, loves reality TV shows. He was on some fan websites when he saw a casting call for a new survival show Teleworld was planning. Howie thought I had the background they were looking for so he filled out the application and signed me up.”
“You’re kidding! You didn’t know? Don’t you have to send in an audition tape when you apply?”
“Normally, yes. But Howie sent them some video he took of me when I got back from the service. I was horsing around, doing this over-the-top dramatic speech about how big and tough I was, and bragging about my ultra-manly accomplishments.” He paused. “It is a possibility that some shots of Johnnie Walker Black contributed to my craziness that night.” He smiled as Stephanie laughed.
“I’ll bet,” she snorted.
“In my defense, if you were the one to finally come home, especially after having to do the things I’ve done, you’d get a little drunk, too.”
He watched her gulp hard and nod.
“Anyway, Howie sent in that nutty video, along with my information, without my knowing a single thing about it. I’ve never known him to be the secretive type, so I’m very impressed he pulled it off. Frankly, I didn’t think he had it in him. Howie’s always been an open and honest kind of guy. At least with me.”
“He didn’t lie. He just refrained from telling you,” she said, laughing.
“Either way, he wound up doing me a favor. Though it was weird to get a call out of the blue from Teleworld asking me if I could fly out to New York City, at their expense, to meet them in person. Since I didn’t know what they were talking about, I politely declined, thinking they’d either made a mistake, or were stalkers, or were unbelievably random in who they sought out. Or just completely nuts.”
“Trust me on the ‘completely nuts’ part,” she quipped. “But if you said ‘no,’ how come you’re here?”
“I told Howie about the call, obviously thinking it was a funny story. Then he fessed up. I was a little mad at first, and then thought it was no big deal. No harm done, right? But when Teleworld called back, I now knew how much money I could win. So I agreed to fly out. The rest, as they say, is history.”
He observed her sitting there quietly, taking him in. What was going on in that pretty little head of hers? God, was she blushing?
“Good history, I’d say,” she replied softly. “It gave us the opportunity to know each other. Talk to me more about your background. Weren’t you scared to join the Marines so young? Leave home? Go into battle?
“Yes, and no. It’s a little unsettling to change your life so dramatically. But I wanted to take over the duty of protecting my family, which they’d taught me to do. I didn’t agonize over the decision because there was no other option for me to consider.” He eyed her warily. Did she get any of this? Did she find his story pathetic? Piteous? Strange? And why was she so interested anyway?
“Is that what they’re calling the show?” he said with a sudden burst of laughter. “They told me they weren’t sure what they were going with. It’s awesome! I love it.” His mood suddenly lifted. He even felt a little giddy. Maybe opening up had that effect on people. Feeling lighter than he had in years, he stretched his arms until his pectorals popped out. “I am the Evergladiator,” he boomed. “Behold my mighty power!”
Stephanie laughed until she snorted. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I guess despite all my fancy city upbringing, I’m still not much of a lady.”
“You’re lady enough for me.”
The firelight showed her cheeks blushing. “Thanks,” she said. “But you’re the desirable one. The audience is absolutely going to love you. You’ve got charisma. You’re funny. Brave. A military hero. You’re a nice guy on top of everything else.” She smiled shyly. “And you’ve got a great body, too.”
“Now you like it?” he mocked, but his eyes were intensely focused on her. Imagine if she could like him as a person, and as a lover. He’d be all over that.
“From the minute I saw you, I liked it,” she said, gulping hard and looking away.
“But when I kissed you earlier today, you wanted me to stop.” He arched an eyebrow at her. Gauged her expression. Tentatively. Gingerly. Not wanting to get his hopes up.