by Ellie Hall
“Amanda?”
At my question, she turned toward me. “Yes, VelvetElvis?” One side of her mouth lifted a fraction of an inch, capturing my full attention and desire.
“I won’t mock your fandom if you won’t mock mine.” I leaned in and placed a kiss on that upturned corner, then I worked my way along her cheek, up the side of her temple, across her brow. Each series elicited the sigh I was working for, and soon I’d turned to face her, pulling her into my arms. A kiss for this delicate pink eyelid. Another for that one. One kiss for the blush of her cheekbone. But I couldn’t go slow for long.
Kissing Amanda was like being on Navron again, thundering around the track at full gallop. Her touch was the starting gun, her kiss the straightaway, her pressing against me the curves of the track. I couldn’t go fast enough. I couldn’t get enough of her. We were winning everything. Ever.
Luckily for the viewing public of the park, she pulled back, her green eyes glossy, her lips redder than usual. I did that to her.
“Good acting.” I brushed my thumb across her lower lip, which looked a little plumper than when I’d last seen it.
“None of that was an act.” Dreamy-eyed, she said, “When I kiss you, I feel like I’m inside a song.”
Oh, yeah. Things were definitely getting real.
9
Amanda
Back at the hotel, I paced my room. Everyone else was down at the hot tub, probably an attempt to stave off tomorrow’s soreness from today’s horseback rides. I dug through my suitcase and—dang it! I’d forgotten my one-piece swimsuit.
All I had was Tessa’s crazy two-piece she’d thrown in with the rest of her getups. And by crazy, I meant I’d be crazy to wear it in front of Calvin, considering the sizzling kisses we’d shared over the past twelve hours.
I’d seen how he’d looked at me. I’d felt the heat of his hands all over my skin. I’d be playing with fire to wear something this … red and fiery.
The world had changed. In Tolkien’s description, I felt it in the water, in the earth.
“Calvin?” I tapped my knuckles on the door adjoining his room.
He cracked the door. “Hey.” There was a different light in his eyes. Most of the jaunty cockiness was gone. Something else had replaced it. Something … oh, dear. Was that sincerity?
Then I saw it. He was in swim trunks. Only swim trunks—his shoulders broad as the Mississippi. I bit my lip. “Hey.”
He stepped toward me, but I backed off. We were in a bedroom. I was feeling a little bedroom-ish toward him, and the combo wasn’t safe. “I see you heard that everyone is downstairs at the hot tub. I’m game, but should your bandages get wet?”
He patted the air. “I’ll sit on the deck. You can get in the water.”
I’d need to be in the water up to my neck to be safe from that swimsuit. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go.”
“We ditched them earlier today. I don’t want Parley to think he invited us all the way to New Zealand for no social interaction.”
Good point. “I’ll get changed.” Cringe. “Meet me downstairs?”
“Amanda. It’s better to walk in together—for appearances.”
Another good point. I sent him off and changed—careful to wear my biggest t-shirt over the skimpy disaster of a bikini. “Ready?” I asked, even though I was anything but ready myself.
“Convince them and I’ll take you to that waterfall tomorrow.”
We walked out to the pool holding hands, which felt surprisingly right. As we approached, Calvin let go and placed a hand on my lower back. Sensations shot across my skin.
Parley looked up from his canoodle with Ellen. “Dude. We thought we’d lost you. You missed a great trail ride.”
“Yeah,” Ellen said. “Amazing view of the lake. You guys would’ve thought it was romantic. In fact, it might have inspired Calvin there to propose.”
Calvin’s fingertips pressed into my skin, hard enough to probably leave a circle of little purple marks. “Amanda is all the inspiration I need,” the commitment-phobe ground out.
His reluctance stung. I steeled my face.
But it looked like Parley bought it, despite his next joke. “Wow, the man voted Least Likely to Commit is on the brink.”
Reluctantly, I stepped up onto the platform beside the large, party-sized Jacuzzi. Steam swirled off its surface, where Parley and Ellen sat immersed up to their necks.
“You’re not getting in wearing that nice shirt, are you?” Calvin squinted at me, prodding like he hadn’t just implied I was near getting the boot from his life. “It’ll get wet. We won’t have time to hang out doing laundry tomorrow since we’ll be checking out a waterfall.” The hint was palpable.
“It’s not far from here,” Ellen added. “The waterfall where they filmed Lothlorien.”
“What’s a Lothlorien?” Parley’s mom stepped up the ladder and down into the tub balancing a glass. “Sounds like a good name for a baby girl.”
“No relationship pressure, Mom.” Said Parley, the king of relationship pressure. “We’ll give you grandkids as soon as Ellen is ready. Don’t worry.”
Calvin tugged up the hem of my t-shirt. “This is taking too long.”
“Fine.” I peeled my t-shirt skyward, shook out my hair, dropped the cotton shirt at my feet and climbed into the water. “You sit on the ledge, butt-wound.”
“And who gave me the butt-wound?” Calvin jabbed, but then he glanced my way and I think his eyes exploded. Twice. “I’m sure it’ll be fine if I get in and sit right by you. The doctor won’t mind. In fact, she’ll never know.” He slipped down in beside me, clinging tight. It felt right and wrong at once.
“I love your swimsuit.” Ellen looked up from Parley to compliment me. “Of course, it doesn’t look all that good for swimming.”
It certainly didn’t. I glanced down. Man, could it have covered any less skin? I sank into the water deeper. “It’s a little much.”
“What are you talking about?” A wolfish growl rumbled from Calvin as he plastered himself to my side, his hand gripping my waist. “It’s not much at all.”
If I was the queen of the stage kiss, he was the king of non-committal makeouts. Enough was enough for my little heart. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” I shot up from the water, clambered out, and donned my t-shirt again. “Scavenger hunt?”
“Hey. Where are you going?” Calvin whined.
Away. Fast. I couldn’t have Calvin looking at me, hugging me, touching me in the water like that. Not after we’d kissed like we were on fire. Not after we discovered each other as VelvetElvis and PokerDogs.
Especially not when this was all going to come to an end in a few days and he’d go back to ignoring me and flirting with every woman in sight except me. And I’d be left feeling feelings for the office flirt.
10
Calvin
The scavenger hunt was slated for mid-morning. From the second I woke up, I’d practically needed physical restraints to keep from knocking on the door connecting my room to Amanda’s. That swimsuit hadn’t merely left little to the imagination, it had activated my imagination. Good thing she’d cut out early, for whatever reason. She’d saved me from myself.
The woman was the total package—brains, beauty, sweetness, determination, artistic talent. Not only was she was sexy beyond my wildest expectations, she was PokerDogs!
Amanda challenged me. She didn’t put up with my shallow-guy act. She forced me to yank down my pretenses and show her my real self. I can be my nerdiest VelvetElvis around her—and that’s the version of me she seems to like most of all.
Whether or not I deserved her—none would argue I could—I wanted her for my own. All the Ms. Wrongs I’d cycled through, just to get to Amanda, faded to nothing.
Dang. I was falling for Amanda Starkey—faster than a human hamster sphere down a grassy hillside. And to think, she’d been right in front of me all that time. Icy outside, warm on the inside. So, so warm.
Finally, ten o�
�clock chimed, and I charged to the door. “Amanda? You ready?”
A moment later, the door opened. She wore a simple blue t-shirt and jeans, both of which hugged her exactly how I wanted to be hugging her.
“Hey.” I pulled her close. After a second, she relaxed, albeit reluctantly. “After you left last night, everyone talked about how good you are for me. I think they’re convinced.” Me, too.
“Does this mean I get to see the waterfall?”
Not the reaction I wanted to hear. “Sure. Ellen said there’s one on the way to Arrowhead, which is the location of the final game.”
“That’s right. The wedding is tomorrow.” She grabbed a sweater and her purse, and we walked down the staircase holding hands. It felt natural. Right. “It went fast and slow, you know? I have loved being in New Zealand.”
Uh-huh. “Because it’s Middle Earth?”
“Sure.” She lifted a shoulder like she suddenly didn’t care about the whole Tolkien angle of this trip. “Something like that.”
I got the car door for her. “Everything okay?” Clearly it wasn’t. She was upset with me, probably. Maybe I shouldn’t have come on so strongly when she flashed us her bikini last night. I started the car. “What made you leave early last night?”
She side-stepped my question. “Waterfall first, then meet them for the game.”
“Okay.” That worked, we had a little extra time. And she’d earned it. “You’re in charge of navigation, though.” I handed her my phone.
We drove out of town toward the pass between Queenstown and the little mountain village.
“Speaking of Ellen, she came by my room this morning. All her bridesmaids are borrowing my cousin’s dresses.”
“Oh, no. Really?” Then I caught more meaning. “Wait. Those dresses aren’t yours?”
“No, they belong to my cousin Tessa.”
“Say, what?” I steered along the low-traffic road.
“She’s a huge fantasy cosplay fan. We’re the same height. She’s a little thinner, but most of the costumes still fit me. There are a lot you haven’t seen. Ellen looked through and found the prettiest ones for her three bridesmaids who came early for the wedding rehearsal and dinner.”
If I were a robot, I would’ve been chanting, Does not compute. “They’re not your dresses.” Or the leather thing from the archery range. “Are you not a hobbit fan, then?”
“Of course I am.” She huffed out a long sigh. “But not in a dress-up way. You were always so annoying about my cubicle décor, I brought them just to get your goat.”
My jaw dropped. They’d bothered me at first, and then they’d hot-and-bothered me, especially the archery one. Oh, and that horseback rider one I never did get to see.
“There’s a turn up here.” She aimed a thumb. “Don’t miss it or we miss the waterfall.”
“If you’re not crushing on hobbits or hobbit-actors, why the hobbit-watching-over-you at your cubicle?”
For a second it looked as if she was open and going to answer, but then she closed up again, just like she had last night right before leaving the hot tub.
“Amanda?” I slowed for the corner. “Why did you leave last night?”
“Don’t worry about it. We’re heading home soon. You’ll go back to your life and I’ll go back to mine.”
I parked and we got out, then walked to the waterfall overlook area. She stared at the mists, not looking at me.
I touched her arm. “You’re not answering my questions.”
With a set jaw, she turned to me. “Not that I’m counting, but you’ve dated a dozen women at SolutionX—for less than two weeks each.”
“Sandra was for three.”
Obviously, that was the wrong thing to say.
“Have you ever even called a woman your girlfriend?” The challenge hovered between hope and doubt.
Was this her way of asking me to define our relationship? I could—if she wanted. Except, like all fools, I went into a stupor when asked point blank. “Um …”
Her mouth crumpled into a wavy line, and the moment was gone. “Not even a pet,” she muttered, then spoke up as she marched off. “Thanks for showing me the waterfall. We’re going to be late.”
What was the pet thing? I chased her back to the car. “Hey.”
“Let’s just go play Ellen’s game.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “I want to win something on this trip.”
By game, did she mean the scavenger hunt or the Calvin and Amanda are a real couple game? “You said you’re not good at games.”
“I said I’m not experienced at them.” She let herself into the car. “But I can still tell when they’re almost over.”
Over!
As we drove, my mind hit speed-bump after speed-bump. Clearly, she’d always assumed the truth about me—that I was nothing more than the guy who painted cloud pictures in the sky for women but the pictures dispersed or distorted with the first breeze. The guy who skipped town the second anything lost its fun or started to look like it could develop into something real. I’d even told her about Dad and his penchant for a buffet selection of women.
I wanted to be different—just this once. To make it work.
But what if, like Dad, I couldn’t?
What if she’s right?
11
Amanda
Calvin wasn’t ready to admit we could be something together. Worse, a deep place in me feared he was right to. I wasn’t enough. Not for him, not for anyone. It was why I was perennially overlooked for the creative team at work, why even the world’s biggest player didn’t see me.
I closed my eyes. One more day with a role to play. I’d channel Galadriel and keep my heart intact.
We arrived at the game’s kickoff location in the bride’s hometown. Everyone except Ellen’s teenage sister had already left.
“I’m Lettie. You guys are late.” The redhead shoved a New Zealand dollar bill into my hand. “The game is Bigger or Better.” She waved away our protests. “The whole town is used to this game, so don’t feel weird asking.”
“What do we do?” Calvin asked, holding the dollar up and examining the watermark. “Pay strangers for an item?”
“Seriously? You haven’t played this?” Lettie would look beautiful in the green elf costume with the gold braid. Her long red hair was silky and straight. “You say, I have a dollar, can you give me something better, and when they do, you take that item to the next person. Say it’s a can opener. I have a can opener, can you give me something better? It’s not rocket science. Biggest or best wins. Get going.” She shooed us away.
“I guess we’re playing Bigger or Better.” I snatched the dollar out of his fingers.
“Meet back here in an hour with your final trade.” Lettie hopped on a motorized scooter. “Winner gets to not sing karaoke tomorrow at the ceremony.”
That alone was incentive. Lettie drove off.
Calvin walked close to me, the heat of his arm radiating against mine. We headed down the road. Houses were spaced within walking distance but acres apart. The gorgeous scene helped me forget Calvin’s rejection of me last night.
“Let’s win this thing.” Veni, vidi, vici. I could go home and reclaim my boring life as a formatter and nothing more. Snort.
“Should we stop here?” He pointed at a stand of trees. “I bet no one else has.”
“Because it isn’t a house?” However, when my eyes focused, a house covered in ivy and other vines gelled into view. “Okay. But you knock.”
“Fine.” He rapped on the brown-painted, arched wooden door. It was almost like an above-ground version of a hobbit hole.
“Hello?” A very short old lady poked her gray head out the door and pushed her glasses up her nose. “May I help you?”
My throat clenched. She could’ve been Samwise Gamgee’s Old Gaffer’s wife. Her eyes were kind and sweet. “Hello. I’m Amanda, and this is Calvin. We’re Americans visiting friends who live in Arrowhead.”
“Oh, now nice.” Her voi
ce had a sweet warble.
Calvin took over. “We have a dollar. Could you give us something better?”
Welcome to the china shop, Mr. Bull. “What Calvin means to say is—” My attempt to salvage good manners fell apart when she slammed the wooden door.
Our eyes met with a mutual wince.
“I guess she hates that game.” Calvin ran a hand down his face. “I could’ve been less direct.”
Ya think? “What should we do?” My fervor for winning the game waned to nil. “We could just present the dollar. Like losers. Although, no one wants me singing karaoke. All dogs in earshot will howl.” We kept standing on Mrs. Gaffer’s front porch bowery.
“So, does this mean you’re a cat person?” he asked. “You mentioned pets earlier.”
Testing him, yeah. “Yep. And a dog person. Even a PokerDog person. Plus a horse person. My landlord is none of the above.”
Suddenly I needed to know—beyond curiosity. It felt vital. “And you?”
“Same. Everything but ferrets.”
“But they’re so playful! Easy care, soft, and so intelligent.”
“Ferrets have no merits for me. One ate my pet frog when I was a kid. It was hard to get over.”
Fair enough. “Do you have any pets right now?”
“Nah.” He looked at his shoes and then back at me. “But it’d be nice to come home to someone.”
The burning in his eyes didn’t suggest puppies. A MilkBone dog biscuit lodged in my throat.
“Tell me something, Calvin. Can you commit to … a pet?” I meant to me of course, not a kitten or a puppy or anything else.
This was it. How he answered would tell me everything I needed to know.