Once I’m dressed, I snag the new schedule off the coffee table where I tossed it after Claudia left. It doesn’t look like anything has changed this week except for our location and call time on Sunday for the final show.
Rolling my eyes, I set the new schedule on the kitchen counter on top of all the other paperwork I’ve been given while here. That’s when I spot the original schedule for this week. Comparing the two, I see the differences Claudia was smiling about.
First, all information about when and where our dates are to take place has been deleted. Not that it really matters. I’m still scheduled to go out with Lennon tonight and Milo tomorrow.
Then, instead of having a day to pack and spend doing whatever I wanted, I’m now shopping with Bella all afternoon. I could use a new pair of shoes. Something I’m not concerned with walking in since the ceremony has been moved to the lawn area just outside the stables.
Which is the final change I notice.
The last time I wore heels in the grass, I almost broke my ankle. I’d hate to have a repeat on live television.
Plus, Jace won’t be there to catch me if I fall.
If I’m buying new shoes, I should probably figure out which dress I’m going to wear now. And pack a little. Get organized like I claimed I was going to do last night.
My headache is manageable and my clothes are sorted by the time Lennon knocks at my door for our date. I’m halfway packed, and my bed is covered in potential outfits for the big finale.
“You’re really ready to get the hell out of here, aren’t you?” Lennon asks when he spots the mess I’ll have to clean up before I crawl in bed tonight.
“Aren’t you?” I counter, slipping into a pair of chunky sandals.
“I mean, yeah, but not as ready as you are apparently. I have shit I need to get back to, but I’m also not looking forward to dealing with it.”
“Work stuff?”
“Yeah. I was able to hand off a few of my cases while I was gone, but stuff keeps popping up, and I honestly wasn’t planning on being here until the end, so I have a full caseload as soon as I get back. I’m due in court less than twenty-four hours after my plane lands.”
“How’s that going to work? Don’t you need to prep for that?”
“I have been. Every single night. I was on a conference call all morning with my boss. He’s been handling a lot of things for me, acting as the middleman. I’m still doing the work, only he’s the one meeting with the clients. I’ll be ready, but if I had more time, I’d feel a little better about it.”
“Why’d you want to be a lawyer?” I ask when I catch sight of Lennon sniffing the blue roses out of the corner of my eye.
“To help people, of course.”
“That’s what all lawyers say. What’s the truth?”
“Well, when I was a teenager, I saw what my aunt went through when she got divorced. My uncle was abusive, verbally, and he tried to leave her with nothing even though she paid for him to get his degree with part of her trust fund. In the end, he won somehow, and I was pissed. He was the abuser. He was the one that was cheating. But she was the one that filed for divorce, and the judge looked down on that. He saw it as giving up on their marriage, and in the end, she lost big time. I wanted to make sure that didn’t happen to someone else. To someone who didn’t deserve to lose everything in hopes of a better life.”
“And how’s that working out for you?”
“Not all my clients deserve better than they get. I try to be choosy about what cases I take on, but sometimes I’m given cases I don’t want. It still amazes me how many assholes there are in this world and how far some people will go to destroy others.”
You can hear how much he cares about making things right for his clients. And how irritating it can be to stand up for someone who doesn’t deserve it.
Thankfully, Lennon’s disposition doesn’t seem to be affected by our conversation as we make our way toward the main house.
“Where are we off to tonight?”
“Dinner. I figured after a long night of drinking tequila, I should probably feed you. Then back here to watch a movie.”
Raising my eyebrow at him, Lennon rolls his eyes.
“Yes, it’s cheesy, but I’m kind of looking at this as our first real date. It was my choice tonight. And of all the things we could have done, I wanted something low key so we could talk. Something where you didn’t feel any pressure. Plus,” he says, leaning in close and whispering in my ear, “the restaurant may or may not have agreed to let the cameras in.”
A smile spreads across my face as we’re ushered into the waiting town car.
The one thing I want more than anything is to not have a camera in my face. To be able to fully be myself, and I can’t do that when I know someone is watching.
And here . . . someone is always watching. Even when you think they’re not.
True to his word, the cameramen are escorted out of the restaurant as we’re shown to our table. I notice them try to come in for dinner, but the hostess refuses them a table even though the place is almost empty.
They don’t have a reservation.
Either that or Lennon pulled some strings.
“Okay,” I start when I see the cameraman pacing by the front window, his phone pressed to his ear. “How’d you do it? I have to know.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies with a smile.
“Right.” Returning my attention to the menu in front of me, I browse through the offerings as we wait for the waiter to bring us the bottle of white wine Lennon ordered.
“I’ve heard great things about this place, but it recently changed ownership, so I’m not sure how good it’ll be.”
Looking around the room before making eye contact with Lennon, I grimace. “It’s kind of empty in here. Makes me worried the new owners are going to run the place into the ground.”
“Not a chance. It’s empty because I wanted it that way. No one was allowed to make a reservation for the two hours I booked.”
“Why did you do that?”
“One, so I could piss off the camera guy and Claudia. Two, because I’m sick of my every move being filmed and this felt like it would be a great time to take a break. And three, I wanted to talk to you alone, without anyone else around. Plus, the guy who bought the place owed me a favor and was happy to help.”
Owed him a favor?
“Why was he in debt to you?”
“Because I didn’t stand in the way of him marrying the love of his life.” Lennon’s smile continues to grow with every word he speaks. As if there’s more to what he’s saying.
“But you deal in divorce. That doesn’t make any sense.”
All he does is nod. Before I can inquire more, the waiter is pouring each of us a glass of wine, reciting the dinner specials, and taking our order. By the time he’s gone, our conversation is long forgotten.
“To love and lust,” Lennon says, raising his glass. “May we be blessed with both.”
I clink my glass with his as I think over his words.
“It’s strange. A relationship can be filled with lust and lack love but not the other way around.” My words seem to strike deep for him.
“You can have one and not the other, yes. But if you have one, you tend to want the other as well. I always thought the name of the show was silly. They had to know people would sleep with each other—it’s probably what they were going for—but that people would fall in love too. The entire premise seems stupid now. All they do is push people together and then rip them apart.” Lennon’s voice trails off as if he realizes what he just implied.
“Do you think they sent him home on purpose? For no reason? To push the ratings up?” I can’t help but ask. The thought of it all being a setup has crossed my mind more than any other explanation has.
“No. I think he did something that got him booted, and I’m sure we’ll find out what later on. After it’s all over. But I also think they were looking for a wa
y to kick him off.” I furrow my brow but don’t say anything. “Think about it, Presley. The finale would have been predictable if Jace were here. It would be you and him. Clear winners. You guys would walk away with the money. Together. Happily ever after. Who wants to watch that? No one. They want to be surprised, so they had to shake things up, and they found a way.”
He has a point. Not that I like what he’s saying, but still . . . his point is valid.
“I don’t want to talk about Jace anymore tonight. We’re supposed to be on a date.” I motion between the two of us. “What kind of date would I be if I talked about another guy all night?”
“The kind of date who’s in love with someone else.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, Presley. Two weeks ago, I would have been happy to have you to myself tonight. I would have been looking forward to it for days knowing that it would be just the two of us. In the final week. Headed to the end of this madness. Hoping we would be on the same page and ready to ride off into the sunset together.”
“Two weeks ago?”
“Yeah.”
“And now?” I need to hear him say it.
“Now, I see things differently. Do I still think you’re absolutely amazing? Yes. Would I still fight for you if Jace were here? No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you love him. He loves you. The only person I’d be fighting with is myself. Plus, I’m not the kind of guy to stand in the way of true love. And, not to hurt your feelings, but I’m not in love with you, Presley. I wanted to be. More than anything.”
All I can do is nod. His words should hurt, but they don’t. Not the way I thought they would anyway.
“What about Bella? Do you love her?”
“I think I could. I think I’d like to get to know her better. The real her. To spend time with her after this is all over.”
“You should choose her,” I blurt out. “Choose her and give yourself a chance at happiness. You’re a good guy, Lennon. You deserve to be happy with someone who can give you all of themself. I couldn’t do that when we met. It took weeks for me to feel ready to give even the smallest piece of my heart to anyone. I was certain it was shattered.”
“It was.” His confirmation causes me to sit up a little straighter in my chair. “Your heart was broken, Presley. I wanted to be the one to piece it back together, but I couldn’t make the pieces fit. The only person who could is the one you are meant to be with. You didn’t choose Jace over me. Your heart did.”
Chapter Ten
Day 39
My mind is still reeling after my date with Lennon last night. His words have been on replay since I brushed all my clothes off my bed, into a pile on the floor, and crawled under the covers.
My heart chose Jace.
I had no say in the matter.
Thinking back, it happened slowly. The first time we met, I was intrigued by him. His good looks. The mystery that surrounded him. I wanted to know more. Everything about him. I was fascinated by every fact I learned, which only fed into wanting to know even more. We formed a friendship.
Sure, we kissed. He held my hand and flirted with me.
But it was more than that. I respected him. Trusted him. Confided in him.
Then I started to catch feelings. So did he. I wanted to spend all my time with him and only him.
In my eyes, he was amazing. The way he treated me was beyond expectations. The way he treated everyone as if they mattered. Even Teegan and Courtney when they didn’t deserve it. He treated them with the respect they demanded but didn’t deserve.
I admired that about him.
It’s part of why I fell in love with him. Part of why the fire between us burned so brightly. Because of the person he is.
Caring, kind, considerate. To all those around him.
And when that fire sparked, nothing was going to stop us from burning the entire ranch down.
Looking around the room as I drink my coffee, I take in all the beautiful roses that surround me and am reminded of their meanings. Mystery, fascination, friendship, admiration, and passion.
The story of our relationship. Of its growth.
Our very own love story.
There may not be a bouquet of red roses anywhere in this room, but there doesn’t need to be. The flowers as a whole represent our love, the path we traversed to get to where we are right now.
We may not be together at the moment, but we will be when this is all over. I don’t doubt that in the slightest.
And I hope he knows that.
But just to be sure . . .
Pulling out my phone, I shoot Jace a text that I know will go unanswered.
ME: Thank you for the flowers. We wrote a beautiful love story, and I can’t wait to see where this journey takes us next.
After we returned to the ranch last night, Lennon and I curled up in the game room and turned on the latest John Wick movie. He held me close and spoke in hushed tones about what he found in the contracts we signed. The majority of our conversation over dinner was about Jace, even though I tried to change the subject on multiple occasions.
The contract won’t allow for any contact with contestants after you’ve been eliminated. That’s why none of us have heard from Jace. Even if he could contact us, he wouldn’t be allowed to divulge why he was eliminated.
When I asked him how Jace was able to send me flowers, he just smiled and changed the subject.
It was obvious Lennon knew more than he was willing to share with me. Information that would probably get him in a bit of trouble. But, knowing him, he is within the confines of his contract. He found a loophole. One he’s probably opening wider and wider with every move he makes.
I only hope it doesn’t backfire on him. That he’s as good of a lawyer as he seems to be.
Because I couldn’t see any holes in the contract. And I read through it multiple times looking for them after Jace didn’t return.
Milo is standing in my kitchen, arms crossed over his chest, pouting like a child. Rain is pounding against the roof of the villa and has been for the last two hours. His plans for our date tonight are on hold until it stops.
Or so he says.
He won’t tell me what his plans were. Not even a hint.
And I refuse to make him a margarita until he does.
Instead, we’re having a staring contest. One neither of us is winning because neither of us wants to give in.
“Fine,” he finally relents. “You make the margaritas—and don’t skimp on the tequila—and I’ll tell you what we were supposed to be doing tonight.”
Nodding, I start filling the blender with ice. When Milo doesn’t say anything else, I hold the bottle of tequila perched over the blender cup but don’t pour.
“We were going to go on a moonlit horseback ride. I know you love horses, but the damn rain started. I even had the chef pack a picnic for us. Happy now?”
“No. Now I’m sad,” I say as I pour a heavy-handed amount of tequila over the ice, the smell bringing back memories of the shots we did the other night. Maybe margaritas were a bad idea.
“Me too. I had the perfect plan, and the damn weather had to ruin it.”
“It would have been fun,” I say before flipping the switch, the blender coming to life, drowning out Milo’s words. When I see him waving at me out of the corner of my eye, I kill the blade.
“Wanna have a picnic indoors instead?” he asks, a bright smile on his face, the first I’ve seen since he walked through my front door almost an hour ago.
I shrug my shoulders, and then Milo picks up his phone and begins tapping the screen feverishly. The phone dings as I’m salting the rim of the margarita glasses, and when I hand Milo one, filled to the brim with the potent drink, he’s smiling ear to ear.
“Our goodie basket will be here in a few minutes.”
“It’s being delivered?”
“I wasn’t about to run to the stables and back in this storm. Plus, Claudia n
eeds to earn her paycheck from time to time.”
I can’t help but laugh and picture the look on Claudia’s face when she finds out she has to run out in this crappy weather. It brings joy to my heart. And when she finally arrives, looking like someone pushed her into the pool fully clothed, I laugh in her face.
Hard.
She doesn’t find the humor in it at all as she shoves the basket in Milo’s hands and walks away without a word.
“Why do I feel like there’s bad blood between you two?” Milo asks, setting the basket on the rug in front of the TV and slowly unpacking the contents. Cheese. Wine. Crackers. The perfect spread for a date under the stars.
“Probably because there is. She’s been nothing but bitch to me for a while now, and I’m done putting up with her shit.”
“At least it’s almost over.”
“I’m counting down the days,” I retort seriously.
“Well, stop counting for a few hours and let’s enjoy our time together.”
The thing I love most about Milo is he’s aware of where we stand and accepts it. He knows I’m not interested in him, and instead of being hurt by the simple facts or fighting against it, he’s okay with it. He still wants to be my friend. Still enjoys spending time with me and doesn’t make things awkward.
“This was your idea of a perfect date for us? Why?”
“Well, we were told tonight was supposed to be about the girls. To show how well we know them. I know you enjoyed riding to the creek, and I saw and heard about the night where you snuck out and had an unscheduled date under the stars, so I wanted to give you that.”
“Jace told you?” I ask, astonished.
“Seriously?” Milo seems amused at my surprise. “The guy never stopped talking about you. From day one, you were it for him. We all knew we didn’t have a shot with you if you ever started to feel the same. And once you did, the only person who refused to give up was Lennon, though I think he has now. I think he finally gets it.”
“Gets what?”
How much does Milo know? I didn’t realize he and Jace were that close. Were all the guys close? I mean, the girls were, some of us. At least, we were at some point in the competition. Courtney and I felt close at first until she turned on me. Same with Teegan. I think the only person I never felt close with was Natasha and that was probably because she was more interested in the lust part of the game than anyone else.
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