She's The One

by Bronwyn Stuart

  Amelia fidgeted next to Eliza on the couch and muttered, ‘Please pick me, please pick me.’

  There was no poetry this time, just ‘Banjo wants to see your best howzat and a rose for the first to hit a six.’ No thought as to who would get the rose at all? Eliza was only mildly shocked. Trust him to disregard feeling and go straight for someone who could hit a ball. Bloody sports freaks.

  Six of them would be going along for this date. Six out of ten wasn’t great odds and she almost crossed her fingers for a day by the pool. It was going to be nearly 38° Celsius which was pretty warm for the tropics and not great for being active in the sun. There was also a thunder storm predicted for late in the evening. Her hair was not up to getting spritzed by the rain. The humidity was already making her afro frizzier than usual but luckily the onsite makeup team were armed with some handy tricks they’d been happy to show her.

  Grace scanned the names on the invite and her face lit up, her even, white teeth flashing along with a dimple or two. Eliza smiled at the pure happiness in her expression.

  ‘The ladies going on this group date are Eliza, Sofia, Allison, Becky, Brooke and myself.’ Squeals and groans mixed as the four remaining women, Amelia, Jennifer, Erika and Erin, got up as a group and left the room.

  Damn, she was beginning to hate the letdown part of the invitation days and she wasn’t even staying behind. They had one hour to get ready and head down to the waiting limousine. Eliza put on her bikini and the short shorts from the volleyball session along with a filmy white blousy thing with long billowy sleeves and a tiny collar that Amelia had said she could borrow any time so she didn’t burn in the sun. She’d be lucky not to look like a lobster by the end of the day!

  Into her bag went the biggest bottle of sunscreen she could find and a litre sized bottle of cold water from the fridge downstairs along with a bunch of grapes from the fruit bowl and a protein bar from the cupboard. She was a practical person and she was not going to starve or get dehydrated just so she could look good in front of Banjo. She threw her straw hat in as well. An hour and ten minutes later, the women had climbed into the car, three on the left side, two on the right, and Eliza and Brooke facing forward.

  ‘What are we waiting for?’ Grace said impatiently when they made no move to get going.

  A soft whistle from Sofia and Becky said, ‘Who are we waiting for, more like.’

  Bloody hell. Banjo wasn’t meeting them there like he was supposed to, along with Daniel, the presenter. He was riding with them. Eliza was closest to the door, having got in last so she had no choice but to scoot over and let him in. She held her breath, hoping he’d sit somewhere else, but he settled in nice and close and then closed the door, the scent of his cologne following.

  ‘Good morning, ladies.’ His smile was a knock-out one meant to blind and confuse, she was sure.

  Eliza averted her gaze but when she dropped her eyes, she fixed on his toes peeking from his thongs. The dusting of hair there was a perfect match to the hair that trailed down his … Damn. She was not going to go there. She was feeling sorry for him. Sympathy for his situation. That was all. She’d already decided that on the night of their one-on-one dinner.

  General chit-chat filled the tense cabin of the stretch limo but Eliza tuned it out. She should have concentrated on the conversation but his leg was leaning against hers. When she tried to move over a bit more, he readjusted his position so that his arm was over the back of the car seat at her neck. When the driver slammed the brakes on for another car, she was jolted forward a little and Banjo’s hand came down on her shoulder to stop her from being thrown forward in the seat.

  Brooke was caught by Grace and then giggles followed but Eliza barely managed a weak lifting of her lips. Why did Banjo have to touch her? He’d almost ignored her except for the rub of his boardshorts-clad thigh against her bare one. As much as she’d tried to, she couldn’t forget his hands and mouth on her. If she’d been snippy at him the last two days it was because she was trying so hard not to be disappointed that he hadn’t made another move. How could he not want to lick the spaghetti sauce off her chin when she’d dropped a bit there? He’d just grinned and gestured for her to use her napkin. Where had the bad boy gone that night?

  Damn it, she didn’t care! She didn’t want a bad boy. She wanted stable. She wanted someone who’d be there for her when she needed and piss off when she didn’t. She wasn’t clingy and she most definitely didn’t need someone in her life with an ego as big as Banjo’s.

  Beneath the edge of her hair and under the collar of her shirt, he stroked her shoulder. Her intake of breath was loud even to her own ears.

  ‘You’re so tense, Eliza.’ He didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was touching her in front of five other ladies. ‘Let me give you a massage.’

  She gulped. Really? Seriously? She didn’t get flustered by a charmer. ‘We’re nearly there.’

  ‘Then I don’t have long.’ He actually made it so she had to turn her back to him on the seat or risk making a scene. Five sets of jaws hung open as he swept the curtain of her hair over one shoulder and began kneading her muscles. ‘I’ve had lots of practice at this.’

  His words held more than one meaning, she would eat her straw hat if they didn’t. Her head fell forward and she couldn’t stop a groan. He actually had magic hands. She was glad her hair was over her face as her cheeks heated.

  ‘Harder?’ he asked close to her ear. ‘Or do you like it gentle?’

  Was he challenging her? Here? What game was he playing at now? Eliza met the gaze of Brooke next to her and instead of seeing hatred there, which is what she’d expected, Brooke smiled and gave her an encouraging little nod.

  ‘Harder,’ Eliza said over her shoulder, attempting to lighten the whole spectacle. ‘Show me what you got, Mr Ice Bullet.’

  ‘You wish,’ he joked but there something in the depths of his eyes that worried Eliza. Instead of laughing it off, he’d taken her words as a challenge. She’d pay for that one.

  ***

  Of course he knew what he was doing. He was setting Eliza up to be the shiner of the day. The one he could give the rose to. As long as she could hit a tennis ball with a cricket bat. He had to give someone a rose on this date. He’d been warned by the bossy producer that they had a schedule to keep up. That the women were expecting it. But he was getting so sick of expectations. He wanted to be himself for once in a very long time and with Eliza, he actually felt as though she was warming to the real him.

  If he was going to choose her in the end anyway, he had to start showing more than a passing interest in her. Didn’t he? As his fingers moved over her shirt and massaged her shoulders, his lower half was showing more than a passing interest. She was so warm and soft yet there was a strength beneath the surface he wouldn’t have imagined from someone so petite. She had fire in her soul, he’d seen that. He’d liked that.

  The car pulled up way too quickly to their little piece of seclusion for the day. He’d originally suggested touch football as the sport for the day but raised producer brows met his words. So they’d gone with cricket. As he looked around at the women he’d chosen for the date, he wondered if they knew they’d have to run in their itty bitty bikinis. Once again Eliza was sensible and had chosen more than a two-piece. He didn’t want to see her fair skin scorched by the sun and even suggested they all come into the lounging tent for a bit of shade before they started the game.

  He took turns rubbing sunscreen into the contestants but his gaze kept drifting back to Eliza. She’d managed her own lotion and didn’t look as though she was going to remove her shirt at all for the day. He grinned rather than frowned. He liked the look on her. Very girl-next-door in a refreshing way. She was beautiful, sassy, intelligent. All the traits he hadn’t known he was looking for.

  A throat clearing told him he’d got lost in thought and Eliza’s pinched mouth said he’d been staring at her too. He winked for good measure and then said, ‘Who’s ready to play cricke
t?’

  Bouncing ensued along with a few hand claps and he wondered if the women were this happy and enthusiastic all the time. It would be exhausting.

  Once again, Banjo found himself really having fun. Everyone had played before, it was another Aussie pastime, playing beach cricket. The soft white sand was hot beneath his feet and made it hard to run so they moved the stumps to the shallows where the waves were lazy and cool and played there, splashing and giggling.

  After two rounds of hitting, one thing was clear. Eliza wasn’t even trying to hit the ball hard. Sure, she was having fun, but she was reserved too. Never quite letting herself go like the others. They had different colour markers for how far the balls went so they would know who the winner was at the end of the day. When Becky hit the ball and it sailed over their heads, both he and Eliza went for a catch. He knew she would drop it though since it was the longest shot for the day so far.

  ‘I got it,’ he called to her.

  ‘No you don’t,’ she called back and reached up on her tippy toes, her little fingers reaching in the air.

  Banjo had a foot on her so he tickled her side and easily caught the tennis ball in his other hand while Eliza doubled over his arm, breathless and pliant.

  ‘No fair,’ she said with a chuckle.

  Banjo turned his back to the group and lost his forced smile. ‘If you don’t start trying harder, I’m going to kiss you in front of everyone. Hard. Slow. Long.’

  ‘I am trying,’ she protested, her eyes flashing, her lips in a determined line.

  He stepped toward her. She stepped back. He didn’t stop. ‘Eliza,’ he warned softly. ‘If you don’t win the rose, I’m going to be forced to do something completely reprehensible.’

  ‘Give it to one of the others,’ she hissed.

  Banjo looked over his shoulder at their audience. ‘Eliza doesn’t want to have her turn at bowling,’ he said by way of explanation. He reached for her hand and held it in his, pressing the ball into her palm. ‘Win the damn rose.’ He softened his look and his tone. He wasn’t above begging when he had to. ‘Please.’

  She finally nodded her understanding and then her gaze turned almost triumphant. ‘Okay.’

  He was filled with confusion. What just happened? Every time he showed her a part of his vulnerable side, it was like she gave herself points. She was still looking for something in him that probably wasn’t even there. But should he care? As long as she played her part, isn’t that why they were there? She’d already made it so clear that she wasn’t interested in him.

  His brain stopped functioning and as he turned to stare at her arse as she walked by, he almost lost the one thought racing through his mind. What if she was interested?

  Chapter 14

  She was most definitely not interested in Banjo. The only reason she smashed the ball the furthest was because she’d seen some of the inner turmoil he must have at the concept of giving out the rose to someone he wasn’t interested in. He’d already said how hard it was to string the other women along. She was only helping him out. That was it.

  It also came down to the fact that she didn’t want him to kiss her in front of the other women. So far there had been no talk at all of kissing and the target she’d had on her back was forgotten. The other ladies were beginning to get a little antsy over the fact Banjo hadn’t shown his bad boy side yet. To them. Oh, the things Eliza could tell them about his technique. But she wouldn’t kiss and tell. She didn’t need to go back into the sinbin in the house.

  As the sun set and the humidity grew more stifling as clouds gathered in the sky, the group moved to the harem tent setup where they would have dinner. Behind the tent was another smaller one for dressing. It seems they had to put on Bollywood costumes and she didn’t want to admit it, but it was a fun thing to do so she went with it.

  When the six women returned to the tent, Banjo had also changed. He was wearing a traditional Indian pant suit, long and billowing. God, he looked like a rich Rajah from a romance novel. And he bloody well knew it from the grin on his face as he stood there, proud and annoying, his hands on his hips.

  He was really getting a kick out of it and as he approached, Eliza did her best to scowl.

  ‘Ladies, you all look magnificent. The Weekly wants to get a few photos before we settle in for dinner.’

  This proclamation was followed by yet more preening as a makeup crew set to hair and faces. After sweating all afternoon in the sun, Eliza was glad for the freshen up. The Australian public were going to see an intimate dinner for seven in an opulent setting but on the other side of the camera stood around twenty people with light poles and notepads and clipboards.

  By the time they’d finished the shoot for the magazine, Eliza’s stomach wasn’t the only noisemaker. The sky rumbled in the distance and lightning flashed over the ocean.

  The producer, Amanda, told them they’d checked the Bureau of Meteorology website and the storm was going to slide on down to the east and miss them entirely so they were safe to start the meal. Eliza didn’t feel safe at all. The skimpy top of her outfit didn’t fit well and the pants were almost see-through. Banjo’s idea probably. And why did he have to keep staring at her? Did she have food on her face again? She quirked a brow between the first and second course in a silent question.

  He wasn’t silent at all. ‘Eliza, would you walk with me?’

  Not again. Once more, he’d put her on the spot so she couldn’t say no. ‘Sure, I’d love to.’

  She left her rose on the table and was forced to take the hand he offered her to bring her to her feet. But then he didn’t let go.

  Sand dunes rolled like small mounds behind the tent set-ups and when he began to steer her that way, she pulled gently back towards the shoreline. ‘You really have to stop singling me out,’ she said while giving her hand a shake to dislodge his grip.

  He tightened his fingers and threw her a grin. ‘You really have to learn to relax. Pretty soon you’re going to give the whole game away.’

  ‘You’re already doing that by taking such an obvious interest in me.’

  ‘Why do you keep doubting that I’d want to spend time with you even if we didn’t have the contract? You’re beautiful—’

  She cut him off. ‘Could you be any shallower?’

  He went on with a smile. ‘And beyond stubborn. Any guy would like to spend time with you. Did your two boyfriends make you feel like you were second best or something?’

  ‘Or something,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘But that’s not the point. You have to show an interest in someone else as well. More than one person. And why haven’t you kissed anyone yet?’

  That stopped him in his tracks. ‘I have.’

  Her pulse skipped a beat and she met his eyes in the dusk glow. ‘Who?’

  Did he get closer? She couldn’t be sure as he said, ‘You.’

  ‘That doesn’t count because it shouldn’t have happened.’

  ‘Yes it should have.’

  What did he say? His breath was warm and smelled of the champagne they’d toasted with in the tent. His nose was pink from the sun and his eyes sparkled. When his hands floated up her arms and cupped the back of her head, her hair between his fingers, Eliza couldn’t think. In the back of her mind, she knew she should pull away but she’d done nothing but fantasise about this kiss for days. Not wanting him, wanting him, the internal struggle exhausting.

  His lips pressed to hers, gently, tentatively, but she didn’t want that. Her own arms drew him closer and she opened her mouth to him, pressed into him with all the wild abandon of a she-cat on heat. Until reality came crashing in in the form of a camera man, his red light bright against the darkness.

  Eliza broke away and hid her face against Banjo’s shoulder.

  ‘Jesus, Ted, you scared the shit out of her,’ Banjo said to him.

  ‘I nearly missed it all,’ the camera man whined. ‘Can you do it again?’

  Dread filled her and as she leaned back to meet Banjo’s
eyes, she had only one feeling. ‘Did you set that up?’

  ‘Not at all,’ he said, disgust in his voice. ‘Ted, take a hike.’

  ‘Amanda will have my ass for breakfast if I go anywhere. I’m supposed to stick to you like glue.’

  Eliza regained some of her composure. ‘Amanda can have whatever she wants but not this. Delete that last bit and cut to us walking back or it will be more than your job you’ll be worried about.’

  Ted got angry. ‘You’re not a producer now, Eliza, you don’t get a say.’

  She curled her hands into fists and took a step towards him, embarrassed that she’d thrown herself into Banjo’s arms again and ashamed that it had all been caught on camera. She didn’t want that aired. There was no way she would come off looking anything but desperate for a taste of the bachelor. But that’s what he was doing to her. If she could find a way to turn it all off, she would. She had to. She wasn’t this person.

  ‘Eliza,’ Banjo said from her side as he pressed the top of the camera, tipping it down towards the sand in Ted’s hands and then giving the man a shove back towards the tents. Once he was gone, Banjo put his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him. ‘We weren’t doing anything wrong. I’m going to have to kiss someone sometime. You just said that yourself.’

  Fury replaced the other emotions stumbling through her veins as her heart lurched back to life. ‘Someone sometime? Why don’t you kiss them all, Banjo? Why don’t you try everyone out and then see who does it best? See who gets your motor running? See who might be easy pickings for a one nighter?’

  ‘What has gotten into you?’ he asked. ‘It was an innocent kiss. Every bachelor on every show has done that and then some, why is it so bad that I did it now? To you? Do you really dislike me that much?’

  Eliza groaned and covered her face in her hands.

  His voice was softer as he went on, quiet and intense. ‘Or is it that you like it too much? Like I do?’

  She shook her head back and forth but they both knew the truth. She did like it. She liked him. God, what had she done? Had she fallen ‘in like’ with the one man who was the complete opposite of what she wanted?