PRIDE: A Bad Boy and Amish Girl Romance (The Brody Bunch#1) (46 page)

“There is no way you made up that name for a comedy show. Porn, yes. Comedy, no.”

“Busted, that is my porn name,” said Harrison. “Dynamic, isn’t it?”

Clarice smirked at him and shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

Harrison shrugged. “I don’t know, fuck me senseless?”

“If you’re
extremely
lucky.”

He stuck out his arm to her with a smile and a wink. “How about for now, we just watch some theater? I’ll need my senses for that, anyway.”

“Yeah, what is this going to be like, anyway? I have to plead ignorance on the arts of Indonesia,” she asked as she took his arm.

He escorted her up the stairs. “The Barong dance is a very old performance. You’ve probably seen the costumes they use before, it’s quite popular. They look like giant dragons and require two men to operate, it’s really something to watch. They tell the story of a battle between good and evil, one dating back to the 10
^th
century.”

“The highest drama,” said Clarice. “I can’t wait.”

“You’re going to love it. I bet they’re bringing the costumes out of their sacred storage right now, blessing them already. They have to, you see, because the costumes themselves are holy. It’s really extraordinary.”

“I see you’re quite the theater expert!”

“I’ve been a time or two,” he replied slyly. “Does that impress you?”

“It doesn’t
not
impress me,” said Clarice with a giggle.

“Actually, that’s the only time I care to head to Denpasar or any of the larger cities, to see the theater. Imagine all of this on a scale four or five times the size, including the budget. It rivals anything I’ve seen in New York or London.”

“Really?” said Clarice. “I would love to see that!”

“I don’t want to undersell these locals, though. The big theaters are nice and fancy, but their motivations seem different, somehow. Out here, people fill their performances with a soul, a passion that the city troupes lack. I don’t fully get it, although I’m sure Bruce could explain it to us.

“No, I understand completely,” said Clarice. “I think it’s the same with any creative art. I definitely see it in the writing world. You can pull more raw, emotional power out of a struggling newbie than a cushy, popular, best-selling writer, because one of them still remembers what it’s like to have nothing but their passion.”

Harrison said, “That’s a very astute observation, darling. I agree.”

“Well, I am pretty amazing,” she said.

“I second that.”

“Do you think your mother will like the play at all?”

With a deadpan face, Harrison said, “Oh, absolutely not, no. She’s going to be furious she left the resort. But since you’re the one who talked her into it, I can just blame it on you.”

H
arrison was right
about his mother. He sneaked glances at all of them during the performance, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her so bored and stiff. His father actually seemed to be relaxing and enjoying it, though.

And Clarice, well… Clarice continued to shatter the icy fortress around his heart with her beauty and charm. She was completely enraptured by the performance, as enraptured as he felt the first time he had arrived in Bali and taken in the show. She barely took her eyes off the stage for the entire thing. Even when he would stare at her and smile, and take her hand in his, she would squeeze back and turn for just the briefest of seconds to return it before her attention was right back on the stage. She seemed to love it as much as he did; he actually envied her, getting to take it in for the first time.

After the performance, Clarice was gushing, and all she wanted to do was take in more of the local scenery and culture. Harrison was delighted about it.

“Why don’t we go take a stroll around the market?” he suggested to his parents. “I can introduce you to some of the locals and vendors we work with at the resort.”

“Oh, I think not, son,” said his mother, fanning herself with her hand. “It’s so dreadfully humid here, I don’t know how you can stand it, I’m simply melting.”

“C’mon now, mum, come wander around the marketplace with us. There’s excellent fruit and fish, so fresh you’d think you had died and gone to heaven,” said Harrison. “You can find some lovely gifts to take home to your bridge circle. Tales from the exotic orient!” he mocked.

“No, no,” said Vanessa, ducking her head to avoid a bug that Harrison was almost certain she had imagined. “George, honestly, I just want to return to the resort. It’s simply dreadful out here.”

George heaved a big sigh and put a hand on his wife’s back. “Not all of us were meant to ex-patriate, I’m afraid, my boy. I need to get your mother back to somewhere with air conditioning.”

“Well, at least you can’t say I didn’t try,” shrugged Harrison. “You’ll just have to live with the guilt of not spending time with your new future daughter.”

Clarice slapped his chest gently. “Don’t you dare guilt them, you jerk.”

“Yes, quite,” agreed Vanessa. “Clarice would never be so foolish as to think I don’t adore her.” She came forward and gave Clarice a small embrace and a peck on the cheek. “We’ll see you when you return, dear.” She hugged her son and without another word headed back to the waiting town car.

George simply shrugged and followed his wife. Harrison called after him to tell the other town car driver to head back, too; he would call when they were ready to return to the resort.

“So,” said Harrison to Clarice once the cars pulled away. “I’ve got you all to myself, huh? What do you say we tour the marketplace first, and then do something a little wild?”

Clarice grinned wickedly and tugged at Harrison’s shirt. “I think that sounds perfect. What did you have in mind?”

“Something beautiful. You’ll see.”

T
he market was
as delightful as Harrison promised, and even though it was a weekday and the town was rather small, the place was bustling with life and noise. Children dashed around the adults playing games, chasing dogs, selling trinkets, and occasionally trying to hone their pickpocketing skills, according to Harrison. Clarice was smitten and gave him a big kiss when she realized he was sneaking each of them wads of money when they came up to him giggling. Obviously, they knew him well enough, which meant he did this all the time.

Harrison took her up to one of the street food vendors and lifted up two wooden skewers stacked with dead fried scorpions glittering with red spices. Clarice immediately repulsed on instinct.

“Tsk, tsk!” said Harrison as he handed one of the sticks towards her. “I thought you were an adventurous woman of the world.”

“Those are
bugs
,” she said, with her nose crinkled.

“You’ll be interested to know that it’s only you snobby Americans who are so resistant to adding insect protein to your diet. For the rest of the world, it’s quite natural.” He wrapped his mouth around the scorpion on the top of his skewer and slid it off into his mouth. He crunched it in one big bite and smiled, smacking his lips.

Clarice made a face at him and shook her head.

“C’mon, you big wimp! I dare you.”

As if those were magic words for Clarice, she gave him an angry glare as she took the stick from him and brought it to her nose with a sniff. Harrison watched her, his eyes alight with amusement, as she took a lick of the spice coating and was surprised to find it was sweet. Finally, she took a deep breath and dove in, pulling the first scorpion off into her mouth.

“Yes!” said Harrison, feeling victorious as he went for his second.

The bug crunched in her mouth, and he knew it was the unexpected texture that made her look like she wanted to spit it out, but the aftertaste saved the day, as he knew it would. Sweet and sharp on the outside, spiced and soft on the inside, once foreigners got past the exoskeleton, they usually agreed it was downright delicious.

“Wow,” she said. “I am definitely the dick here. This ain’t bad!”

“Told you so,” said Harrison. His skewer was already empty and he was going for a second. “Are you ready to see something really breathtaking?”

“More breathtaking than edible insects?” she said, her mouth still a bit full as she finished off her skewer. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“All things are possible when you’re with me, darling.”

He could tell she wanted to roll her eyes at the line, but then changed her mind and smiled warmly instead.

Leading her by the hand, the two left the market via a small but bustling road that sloped towards the sea. The jungle encroached on either side, and outlines of monkeys and birds were visible, hopping through the trees, chattering happily. They passed locals carrying bundles of firewood and loads of groceries on bikes through the streets. When the road opened up onto the beach-side highway, Harrison took her south, towards a more secluded part of the oceanside, where the sandy beaches popular with tourists gave way to rockier land and tumultuous seas.

They stopped near an outcropping where the water whipped violently against the brown rocks. Seagulls were circling just a few yards offshore, pecking at something in the water. The view was absolutely beautiful, and the place was secluded and quiet.

“Is this the make-out point of Bali?” she asked.

“All of Bali is a make-out point,” he said. “No, this isn’t what I’m here to show you. Are you ready for it?”

“I was born ready.”

Harrison grinned and took her by the hand. He led her to the rock outcropping and pointed to a tiny, foot-wide shelf of rock that went out over the water, and then disappeared back into the rock itself. It was a sea cave; the deep echo of the water within was just audible.

“It’s only a few meters in, and there’s plenty of room in there. Just hold tight to the rocks, okay? Slide your feet like this.” Harrison demonstrated, facing the cliff and sliding his way along the small footbridge until he rounded the corner completely, out of sight. From within he yelled back, “See? Done! Come on in.”

Only a few moments later, she appeared before Harrison as he waited patiently for her on a sandy beach inside the rock itself, offering his hand. She took it and he pulled her safely onto solid ground.

“Wow, look at this place!” she said. “It’s like a place pirates would hide their gold.” There was no more apt description of the view she was looking at. The cave was large, with a ceiling twenty feet high. A large circular chunk of rock had eroded out of the apex of the ceiling, and sunlight blasted in, creating a perfect beam of light that shone onto the white glittering sand. The ocean had eroded its way into half the cave space, and it sloshed and shook against the rock faces, its usual bright blue color dimmed by the shadows of the stony walls.

“Pretty amazing, right?” said Harrison. He stretched out on the sand and patted for her to join him. “It’s a bit of a local secret, but they’re all over if you know where to look for them.”

Clarice lay down next to him, his arm acting as a pillow to lift her head up out of the sand. He wrapped the arm around her and held her tight against his body as she looked up at the hole in the ceiling and said, “We should come back here one night and do some star-gazing. I bet it looks really cool laying down here.”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” said Harrison. “I can’t believe I’ve never thought of it. We could build a bonfire, too, roast marshmallows.”

Clarice laughed. “I’m definitely game.”

Harrison lifted up his head out of the sand to look at her, head on his chest. “You know, Clarice, all this other stuff aside, I really like spending time with you. You’re a wonderful person to be around.”

Clarice lifted her head to meet his gaze, smiling softly, blushing. “I like hanging out with you too. It’s nice to be with someone who actually wants to
do
things, not just sit around watching TV, waiting to die.”

“Wow, that got dark very quickly.”

She pinched him. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. And I think we’re on the same page on that issue, darling,” he said. “Someone to have adventures with is a lovely thing.”

“Yeah,” she said, her emotions swamping her thoughts. “It really is.”