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“All clear,” I say, stepping hurriedly into the hallway. It’s open-air, as much of the villa is, and the faint scent of tropical flowers is vastly preferable to the astringent smell of the cleaning supplies.
I inhale and turn around to face Gage, who’s closing the door to the closet. I extend my hand with a confident smile. “So. We have a deal? I’m the first one home?”
He looks at my hand, then his gaze flicks up to meet mine. His eyes do look a little more like emeralds than guacamole in this light, but I’m not about to tell him that.
Finally Gage reaches out and shakes my hand. “Sure. First one home.”
I feel a surge of relief, even as my hand is far too aware of the warmth of his palm against mine. “Thank you. Truly. I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time on your hunt for…true love, or whatever. I’m sure one of the girls here will think your eyes positively sparkle.”
He opens his mouth, but before he can reply the sound of feminine laughter pierces the air, only to stop completely when three of the contestants round the corner and see me and Gage standing face-to-face, my hand in his.
I tug my arm back, but it’s too late. Cora, a gorgeous lawyer of Middle Eastern descent, and Hannah, a pretty southern second-grade teacher with a penchant for headbands and passive-aggressive behavior, are both giving me dirty looks.
The third woman plays it smarter.
“Hey, guys!” the stunning blonde says, giving us both a friendly smile as the trio approaches. “We were just taking a tour of the villa, it’s gorgeous.”
Meet Brooklyn. She’s basically the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen. She’s got long, shiny blond hair that she wears in loose curls, straight white teeth, and Disney-princess blue eyes. Add in the C-cup breasts, tiny waist, and legs up to her chin, and she’s pretty much perfect.
She’s
also exceedingly friendly to everyone, me included, and I should like her. I know I should, but I can’t shake the feeling that every single thing she does is preplanned, and it makes it hard to relax around her.
Gage, apparently, doesn’t feel the same, because his welcome smile seems entirely genuine. “Ladies, good to see you. You all ready for the kickoff dinner tonight?”
“Yes, totally,” Hannah drawls prettily. “And I can’t wait for tomorrow’s pool party. My poor winter skin is totally overdue for some time in the sun.”
Cora lets out a confident laugh. “I’ve never had to worry about that.” She subtly juts out a long, exposed thigh beneath her white skirt, as though waiting for Gage to take in her naturally bronzed skin.
But instead of checking out Cora, Gage’s eyes find Brooklyn’s. She gives the slightest of playful eye rolls at the other women’s antics, which Gage answers with a quick wink.
Irrationally annoyed by their silent flirting, I take a step back from the group. “Thanks for the directions,” I tell Gage, trying to convey to the other girls that I was just lost and not hiding out in a utility closet making deals with our very own Runaway Groom. “This place is huge, right?”
“Oh, sweetie, did you get lost?” Hannah says in a melodramatic whisper. “You poor thing!”
“Just took a wrong turn looking for my room,” I lie, lifting a hand in farewell. “See you all at dinner.”
Cora, Brooklyn, and Hannah all give me a singsongy goodbye, but Gage doesn’t even look my way as he drapes an arm over Cora’s and Brooklyn’s shoulders. “Ladies, care to join me on the patio for a beverage?”
I’m clearly not included in the invitation, and I tell myself it’s a good sign—a show of faith that he’ll stick to his promise to send me home first.
But as they walk away, his manners far more charming than they were when he was talking to me, I stare after them for just a moment, wondering which is the real Gage Barrett: the silver-tongued charmer out to fall in love for the sake of ratings, or the guy in the cleaning closet whose avocado eyes hinted at dark secrets?
Ellie
It’s only the knowledge that it’s my first and last day at the villa that lets me allow Paisley to talk me into putting on the black bikini for the kickoff pool party today. That, and the fact that I fully intend to keep my T-shirt on the entire time.
Then tonight I’ll have my ticket home, and I can put this entire mistake behind me.
Paisley hands me a bottle of SPF 50. “Is it too forward if I ask you to put this on my back? Redhead skin and Maui sun do not mix.”
Our roommate LeAnn bats my hand, knocking the bottle of sunscreen to the ground. “Are you crazy?” she asks Paisley. “Don’t have her do it, ask Gage to do it!”
“Yeah, because I’m sure nobody else will have thought of the whole ‘put sunscreen on my back’ ploy,” Eden says snidely as she arranges her small but perky boobs inside her bandeau bikini.
“I’m not,” LeAnn says, plopping down onto her bottom bunk, making her own, more generous boobs bounce within the confines of her hot-pink halter top. “I’ve got something else in mind.”
“Oh?” Eden asks. “What’s your plan?”
