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Thirty-One
BROOKE
London gave way to Belgium, then Denmark, then Norway. All of them were frantic legs. None of them were easy, and each one took a little bit more out of us.
But as a team, we squeaked through every last one of them.
Daily Grind succumbed to a missed turn near the cliffs of Dover, and Tour of Duty got sacked outside the Cathedral of St. Michaels, in Brussels. Both times it was close. The difference between getting eliminated or staying in the Race was less than ten minutes. Noah made his most tortured face, and the teams pretty much broke down before their departure.
Never Been Last’s luck finally ran out in Copenhagen, although not completely. They finally came in last place, but since it was a non-elimination checkpoint they were surprised with a reprieve. Noah made them change their team’s name though, as a condition of staying in the Race. Henceforth they’d be known as Only Lost Once, a name which had all four middle-age bowling buddies howling with laughter.
In yet another twist, one of the fighter pilots from the Top Guns rolled his ankle on a 15th century cobblestone street. It swelled up to the size of a softball in under two minutes, with the pain so excruciating he was medically disqualified right away. Instead of eliminating the whole team though, we got a surprise at breakfast the next morning. One of the members from Born to Run — who’d unfortunately never started the Race — had been flown in overnight. She was allowed to join the team so they could continue, but this time Noah made them change their name to Need For Speed.
As for me, I was able to call home twice, just to check in. I got hold of my mother and father once each; with both parents working full time, it wasn’t always easy to get in touch. I lied about extending my vacation as they pretended to be happy for me, listening half-heartedly as I made up fake details about places I’d never been.
“You should see Gabe!” my mother doted. “He’s turningfivenext week. Can you believe that?”
It was typical, in that every one of our conversations usually devolved into talk about the grandchildren. Of my two brothers and three sisters, I was the lost sixth child. I was the only one who hadn’t married, and one of only two who hadn’t supplied them with grandchildren.
It also didn’t help that I was also the one who ‘ran away.’ I wasn’t your typical Oklahoma girl, ready to stick around, pick a farm, and raise a family. Instead I took off at eighteen, moving with the speed and unpredictably of the infamous twisters my home state was known for. Like the tornadoes I’d grown up with as a child I always touched down in random places, taking odd jobs in seven or eight different states over the course of the past decade.
“Hey beautiful…”
I looked up from the plush hotel chair I’d chosen to sit down in, after the last ridiculously-long leg. This chair and I were friends now. My legs and ass were looking forward to a lasting relationship with it.
“Beautiful, huh?” I looked up at Reese. His choice of words was bold, especially with the cameras watching. Blossoming romances were big ratings, and the network always focused in on anything that could even resemble a love interest.
“Our room’s all ready,” he answered, ignoring my comment. “The concierge says yours should be in a bit.”
“Cool.”
“Want us to wait for you?”
“Nah,” I patted the arms of my new favorite chair. “I’m good right here. You guys go on ahead, get some sleep. The more rested we all are, the better.”
Reese’s smile held that secret look to it, that might or might not come off on camera. For a split-second I thought he might bend down and kiss me with those strong, beautiful lips. Instead he reached out like a big brother and tousled my already-disheveled hair.
“See you at dinner then,” he said, and walked off.
For the next half hour I just sat there, sinking deeper into my chair. In the nearly two weeks we’d been running, there were seven teams left. More than half were already gone.
What if we actually won this?
The thought hadn’t occurred to me since that night back in our villa, when Noah had first told us about the prize.
A million dollars, Brooke!
I hadn’t even dared to think about it. I guess I didn’t want to set myself up for that big a disappointment. I could do a lot of things with a million dollars, even after taxes. I could go places I’d always wanted to. I could twist off from Sedona and settle down somewhere else.
Somewhere like… Minnesota?
The thought sent a pang of forbidden excitement rippling through me. Could I do that?ShouldI do that?
It was a tough call. A scorching hot week of fantasy sex was one thing, especially with no strings attached. Moving up to where they guys lived would be quite another. It could easily cramp their style. Create an awkward situation in which they might feel obligated to an emotional attachment they didn’t want or need.
Then again, Devin had already questioned whether I could ‘do it.’ And by do it, he meant be an actual girlfriend to them.
Girlfriend.
