My Bachelor (6 page)

Chapter 7

Eliot

“Why so glum
, chum?” Jackson chirped as he joined me under the easy-up, sipping an energy drink, the last thing my hummingbird style friend needed. 

“Shit, not you too,” I grumbled.

“Not me too what? What did I do?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m just feeling down.”

“Yep.” He sipped the drink. “Saw that from all the way across the grounds. I thought, uh oh, shoulders drooping, posture worse than usual and stray curl just chillin’ on the forehead, my buddy, El, is bummed about something.”

“Must you use the word
buddy
? I’m a buddy and a chum and a wingman and—” I released a sound that mimicked exactly how I felt. Miserable. “And worst of all”—I looked pointedly at Jackson—“As you so eloquently pointed out, I’m
safe
.”

Jackson put his drink down on the lunch table and took hold of both of my hands. I dragged my gaze away from my feet and looked at him. I was either in for a Jackson lecture or a pep talk. I wasn’t really in the mood for either.

“Eliot, you wanted this. You’ve told me yourself you have priorities other than flirting, love and courtship.”

“I never said courtship, Jackson. I would remember if I’d said the word courtship. It would be like me referring to my bra as a corset.”

“El.” His tone hardened, and the lecture was on its way. “You’re avoiding the point. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve told me more than once, and especially after I mention the whole un-pretty effort, that you have too much else in your life to worry about without having to worry about having your heart broken.”

“Exactly and I’m sticking to that rule.”

I could hear the female contestants in the nearby dressing tent. We were on location at a ranch that was sometimes rented by the studio for shows and movies. Today it was the place where the bachelor, or as I sometimes thought of him,
my
bachelor, was going to take a trail ride with eight bachelorettes. Jackson and Blake, the set designer, had created a beautiful picnic scene in the center of the nearby pasture, but the food was not to be eaten on camera. The contestants and Rafe were fed ahead of time. The picnic was more of a prop or backdrop for the bachelor to have intimate chats with the women after their ride.

“A couple of the women are nervous about riding horses.” Jackson lowered his voice, although I doubted he could be heard over the clamor of excited voices inside the tent. “But from what I’m hearing, they are willing to do anything to win the bachelor’s attention. The fighting and sabotage inside the house have already begun. This is going to be a fierce competition. The fans are going nuts. I heard Doug and Kiley went out last night to celebrate the explosive start to the season.”

“How has it been explosive?”

Jackson lifted his chin to look over my shoulder. “Well, sweetie, I guess I have to spell it out for you—”

I turned to follow the direction of his gaze. Rafe was walking toward us wearing jeans, a flannel shirt and a black cowboy hat and boots. He was every bit outlaw and every bit dreamy cowboy. Tricia had been right. The man made pinching oneself a necessity.

Just before he reached us, Jackson leaned over and spelled ‘b-o-o-m’ in my ear.

Rafe looked, for the first time, a little tense. “Not sure what I was thinking picking this activity. I guess a few of the women have never even been around horses, let alone ridden on top of one.” He nodded politely at Jackson and then turned back to me. “And I don’t know any of the horses. Hopefully, they’re well broke.”

I glanced across the way to the area where the animals were being saddled. “I’m sure they are. Even though drama and action are good, injury and near death experiences are a little over the top for this show. It’s all about the romance, after all.” I patted his arm. It was like solid rock. “No pressure, though. I see Doug looking frantically around for his star. So, go get ‘em, cowboy.”

Doug grabbed a megaphone and called Rafe, but he ignored the director and stared down at me. “You’re still mad at me about this morning.”

“What? No, I’m not.”

“You wouldn’t let me explain.”

“I’m fine.” I had no idea why but I took hold of his hand. He looked down at it, and instead of pulling it away, he tightened his fingers around mine.

“The words came out all wrong, El. I’m glad you came out here today. I feel better knowing you’re here. Cuz, like I’ve said before, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

Doug was close to screaming into the megaphone, and I was going to be the one to get in trouble for Rafe ignoring him.

Jackson seemed to come to the same conclusion. “Your assistant is going to get her ass handed to her by the red-faced director if you don’t get over to the camera shot.”

Rafe nodded. My hand looked comically small in his as he gave it a final squeeze. Jackson stood shoulder to shoulder with me as we watched Rafe strut, boots, long legs and all, toward Doug. “Now I get the whole damn thing,” Jackson quipped.

I looked over at him. “What whole damn thing?”

“The dreary mood, the sudden anxiety about being
safe
. My perfectly content to be lonely best friend has met her match.” He dropped his arm around my shoulder. “Solitude looks a little less appealing with a man like that walking around, eh?”

“You’re crazy. Of course, that is nothing new.”

“Uh huh. Well, all I can say, sweetie, is get in line because that tall drink of water in the jeans and black hat has become an overnight sensation. From what Tricia has told me, the marriage proposals are already pouring in for the man.”

I shrugged off his arm. “Uh, that’s what he’s here for, remember?”

“Well, there are going to be a lot of broken hearts after this season is over. Tricia said there’s info floating all around the air waves about how not only was our bachelor an army ranger but there’s rumor that he carried his dying friend six miles in the desert to get him help. Unfortunately the guy didn’t survive, but nonetheless . . .”

“Well, if it’s on the internet, then it must be true.”

Jackson’s face snapped my direction. “Whoa, I just hit another sore spot. I’ve got to watch myself around you this season.”

The women emerged from the tent dressed in skin tight jeans and every manner of sexy western garb. “And enough with the Tricia said
this
and Tricia said
that
.  I couldn’t care less about any of it.”

“Right,” Jackson said.

“You know what,
Jack
? Sometimes you’re even more annoying than the curl.” I pushed it off my forehead, grabbed a bottle of water and went off to look for some shade far away from the chaos and my smirking best friend.

I found a tree a good distance away from filming and decided I was in need of a break. I sipped my water and closed my eyes for a few minutes. Then I pulled out my phone and called Georgie. She sounded drowsy as she answered.

“Hey, Eli, everything all right?”

“Did I wake you?”

“Sort of. I was just kind of dozing in and out over my boring textbook. The doctor gave me some pain meds for the tingling in my hands, and they make me sleepy. He says it’s just from overuse when I’m rolling my wheelchair around too much.”

“The new automatic chair is close to getting approved by the insurance company. Hopefully that will take care of the fatigue in your hands.”

“Hopefully,” she said without an ounce of enthusiasm.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just that I worry the new chair will make me even less active. At least now my arms are getting a workout.” My sister had been a star soccer player before the accident. Being confined to a wheelchair had been a major adjustment. She was still dealing with the idea of it both mentally and physically. We all were.

“Well, you can still use the manual chair whenever you like. The other one will just be there for when you’re tired.”

“Yeah, you’re right, Eli. It’s fine. Really.” She tried hard to sound cheery as if it was all fine and dandy. But it wasn’t. “By the way, Mom thinks she’s got dementia.”

“I know. She told me. Hey, maybe this weekend we can go see a movie or something. I don’t know about you but I’m tired of studying all the time. And I’ve got Sunday off.”

In the distance, I noticed a cloud of dust. It seemed everyone’s attention was focused on that cloud of dust. The cameras seemed to be rolling, but the set was just a little too quiet.

“I’ll see if I’m up to it. I’ve got a lot of homework. Hey, I saw the new bachelor,” Georgie piped up, pulling my attention back to the phone call. “He is hot. I’ll bet it’s going to be an interesting season. Jackson must be floating around on cloud nine getting to be that guy’s assistant.”

“Actually, I’m the assistant this season.”

She paused. “What? How?”

Something significant was definitely going on in front of the cameras. “It’s not all that exciting of a story. I’ll tell you Sunday if I see you. I’ve got to go, Georgie.”

I put my phone in my pocket and hiked over to the set. The cameras were still rolling, which meant something worthy of drama or ratings or sponsor money was happening. My stomach tightened as I considered that it might be Rafe having a flirty or intimate moment with one of the contestants. There was no doubt in my mind that the serious competitors were already stepping up their games to get noticed and catch the bachelor’s undivided attention.

Jackson spotted me and skittered my direction like an excited kid. “You always disappear when stuff gets good.” Without explanation he dragged me toward the scene.

I walked as if weights had been tied to my ankles. “Don’t tell me he’s already kissed someone.”

Jackson pushed his sunglasses onto his head and looked back at me. “Why should I not tell you that? Boy oh boy, El, you’ve been bitten. You poor baby, and you have to spend so much damn time with the man while he talks about all the women on the show. It wasn’t a kiss.”

We reached a place where we could be out of the way of filming and yet still see the action. Rafe was riding toward the cameras with one of the women sitting in front of him, across his lap, which made for awkward horseback riding but great romance. The sight of him holding a rather distressed looking woman, the beautiful lingerie model, in his arms made my heart sink straight down to my knees. And she was milking the moment for all it was worth, possibly even adding in a bit of fake agony as if she was in pain.

“Did she fall?” I asked.

“No. Her horse startled. Then she screamed, which made the horse run. And our dashing bachelor took off after her, caught up, reached over and grabbed the reins to stop the horse. It was like a perfectly executed stunt scene in a romantic western, only there were no stunt doubles. Just the sexy model and the even more sexy cowboy. Even though it wasn’t planned, it was all so damn amazing, I thought Doug was going to split his face in half with a grin. Do you want to go watch it on playback?”

“No, thanks. I’ll just try to visualize it. I’m sure ratings will go through the roof,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Which was dismal, to say the least.

Rafe stopped the horse right in front of the cameras, something the cue cards, no doubt, had told him to do. The other women, all looking sorely disappointed that they had not been on the runaway horse, rode in behind them. Plenty of angry looks, harsh glares and eye rolls were being shot toward the rescued rider, but Rafe looked genuinely concerned as he lowered the woman down to the ground. She swayed a little, milking the moment a bit longer. Rafe climbed off the horse. For an added touch, the woman sank against him as if she was close to fainting.

“Oh, she’s
good
,” Jackson muttered. “Think we just found a top contender. But from the steely looks she’s getting from the other contestants, she’d better watch her back.” Jackson glanced over at me. “He’s good too. Something tells me when they air this episode, we’ll be able to hear a collective female sigh roll all around the world. It’s no wonder you’re feeling out of sorts, my friend.”

My face shot toward him. “I’m not. Jackson, if you really want to be
my friend
, then stop being such an asshole.” It was rare when I spoke sharply to anyone, and most especially to Jackson. And sensitive man that he was, he immediately showed the hurt in his expression.

“Look, Jackson, I know you’re just teasing and that this is what keeps the work day from dragging on, but I’m still just getting used to my new position. That’s all it is. A crush, or whatever you think this is, is the last thing I need or want or have time for. You should know that better than anyone.”

He reached over for a hug and an air kiss. “You’re right. I’m done teasing. I will find another friend to torture.” He winked at me. “I hear Tricia is having a hard time handling the media end of this because people are going nuts about this bachelor. A few of the bachelorettes have their fans now too.” He looked past me. “They’ve stopped filming. Break time. I’m done with my work out here. You want to take off for some lunch? I think there’s a taco place nearby this piece of rural paradise.”

I shot a glance toward my six foot plus charge. His dark head towered above the crowd. He was the center of attention for both the women and the film crew. Doug was practically kneeling at his feet, ready to kiss the cowboy boots. Rafe briefly glanced around as if he was looking for something. Even under the shade of his hat brim, I could tell that his gaze had stopped on me.

I lifted the hem of my shirt and looked down at the pager. It wasn’t blinking or buzzing.

Jackson noticed that Rafe’s attention was on me. “Do you think he needs something? He looks kind of lost standing there amongst all his admirers.”

“Not lost. Just out of place, I think.” I stopped there, not wanting to let out any of the things Rafe had told me about the bet and his lack of enthusiasm for the show. “My pager is silent, and he’ll be occupied, especially when they start filming the one on one chats. Let’s go get those tacos. I’ve had about enough romance for one afternoon.”