Chicago, Illinois

The Set of Stranger’s Retreat

Gunner was running on the treadmill, which was set out by the pool, enjoying a rare hot spring day, trying to focus on the mileage adding up on the LCD screen and nothing else. It’d been a long six weeks in this house, and they still had at least three weeks left. Three days had passed since the new girl, Zola, came into the house, and things were more relaxed than they had been from the beginning. Even the first week, when they were assured there’d be no eliminations, had been filled with tension. No one knew anyone and getting to know one another without knowing who would be on whose team was one of the most stressful things most of them had experienced. But now, everyone pretty much knew everyone else, all but the new girl. And she seemed to be fitting in quite well, becoming very chummy with Michelle, seeming to enjoy Jessica, and steering clear of Lesley.

She was a smart girl, this Zola.

The guys, too, were drawn to her, even Brian. From the beginning, Brian had been a solo player, looking out for only himself. Michelle must have been thrilled to get off his team back in week three. And then that girl . . . Tina. But he lucked out, hooking up with Nicole right before Tina and her new partner went home. Brian had been lucky over and over again in this house despite being an ass. If the contestants were allowed to vote on eliminations like on Big Brother, Brian would have been out in week two.

Gunner liked to sit back and watch things play out, stay quiet and let the viewers focus on the ones making trouble. But now that there were only eight people left in play, it was getting harder and harder to do that. He had to start making more choices that could put him on the viewers’ radar, and that worried him. He always kept his promises.

Zola came out of the house, a light pink blouse hanging down to her knees. She had a drink in one hand and a paperback novel in another. Apparently, she was set on enjoying this unusually warm early April afternoon, too. Gunner missed a step as he watched her shed that thin little blouse and expose the black and pink bikini she had on underneath. The pink set off the copper undertones in her skin, the black bringing out the blue highlights in her hair, which was pulled into a ponytail and twisted in on itself around the hair tie, locking it into a thick bun at the back of her head. Gunner didn’t normally like women who wore buns, but there was something about the way it made her cheekbones look fierce, more competent; that he really liked.

She didn’t seem to notice him on the treadmill—a machine he’d had to slow to nearly a crawl so that he wouldn’t fall off while he watched her—because she didn’t wave or otherwise acknowledge his presence. He found himself wondering how uncomfortable it would be in the water closet with two people stuffed back against the far wall . . . And then told himself he was being stupid. He couldn’t put everything at risk for a little lust.

Remember Gretchen, asshole!

He turned the speed up on the treadmill and forced himself to focus on the movement of the belt and the track outlined on the screen. He was getting there, actually retaining his focus and keeping his eyes off her long, slender legs, her barely covered rack. But then Brian came out the door and sat on the lounger beside Zola, blocking his view.

He almost wanted to kiss the asshole.

Gunner was running at full speed, only the sound of his breaths and the beating of the bottom of his shoes on the heavy belt, when he suddenly heard Zola cry out.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re my partner,” Brian told her, outrage as clear in his voice as it was in hers.

“That means we have to work together, not that you have a right to do whatever you want to me!”

“Did you not read the rules of this game before they dumped you inside? We’re supposed to encourage a romantic connection to prove to the viewers and producers that we deserve to win the game.”

“That doesn’t mean you get to kiss me whenever the hell you want to! This is still America, pal. There are rules against that sort of thing.”

A little red invading Gunner’s vision, he turned off the treadmill and grabbed his towel, wiping sweat from his forehead as he crossed the yard.

“What’s going on, Brian?”

Brian looked up, clearly annoyed at being interrupted. “We were having a team meeting. So, if you don’t mind—”

“Where’s Lesley?”

“How should I know? She’s your partner.”

Trouble in paradise?

“Last I heard, the two of you were better partners than her and me. Been to the water closet lately, Brian?”

The smaller man glared at Gunner, anger flashing in his eyes. “What are you doing, man?” he demanded, standing up to confront Gunner. “This part of your game? You trying to steal my partner?”

“Not at all.” Gunner held up his hands. “I’m just wondering why you care so much while you’re running around with my partner.”

“You’re an ass; you know that?”

Brian—who still believed that no one knew about him and Lesley—rushed into the house, pissed that Gunner had just announced the truth to the cameras. Gunner watched him go, amusement dancing on his lips.

“Thanks,” Zola said.

He didn’t look at her because he knew if he did, he’d show the world right along with her how badly he wanted her, and he wasn’t prepared to do that just yet. This wasn’t about a damn game or a lasting relationship to Gunner. This was about Gretchen. And she wouldn’t be impressed if he let himself get distracted by some pretty girl, even if she was gorgeous and intelligent and everything Gunner wanted in a woman.

He walked away without looking back.

* * *

The live show still had to happen even if there wasn’t going to be an elimination. Several producers had told them the show would focus on recaps of the first part of the season and a Q&A session between the houseguests and Susan.

Gunner showered and pulled on a blue linen button down that had been purchased to go with a dark suit. He hadn’t worn a suit in more than a year, but there was no point in wasting the shirt. He pulled on his boots and headed to the living room, aware of the nervous titter of the other houseguests. Zola wasn’t among them, but neither was Brian. That made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, so he retraced his steps and hesitated outside the room the two shared, listening for any sign of trouble. It was quiet for a moment, and he was about to leave, but then he heard a string of curses come from a pretty mouth, making him smile.

“Trouble?” he asked, pushing the door open as he knocked.

“I can’t get this damn blouse to button!”

Zola was alone in the room, dressed in a pair of black slacks, heels, and a white sleeveless blouse with a high collar that buttoned at the back of her neck. He walked up behind her and carefully did what she couldn’t, his fingers brushing against her bare neck as she held her hair up out of his way.

She smelled of strawberries and lavender. And her skin was soft as a baby’s ass, and just as supple.

“Done?” she asked a little breathlessly.

“Done.”

He stepped back and watched her drop her hair, all its curly thickness falling like milk from a bottle down the length of her back. It stopped at the top of her slacks, the tips touching her ass like his fingertips so desperately wanted to do, with a soft, gentle stroke.

“I like that shirt,” she said, turning to survey him. “It’s a good color on you.”

“You look pretty good, too.”

Zola looked down at herself, tugging at the bottom edge of her blouse. “Not really my style, but they said dark, contrasting colors would look best on television.”

“I don’t know about that, but it looks good on you.”

She smiled, a touch of a blush on her pretty cheeks. “Thanks.”

“Nervous?”

She nodded. “I knew there would be interviews and things on here, but knowing it and doing it are two different things.”

“Just be yourself. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know about that, but I’ll try.”

He gestured for her to lead the way. She smiled as she walked past him. Halfway out the door, her ankle turned, and he grabbed her upper arm to keep her from falling. She cursed again, and that made him chuckle.

“What?”

“Such dirty words from such a pretty mouth.”

“You’d be surprised what comes out of this mouth sometimes.”

She pulled away and walked out to the living room, accepting compliments from . . . well, just about everyone. And she did look good. In Gunner’s opinion, she was the prettiest girl in the room. He was not the only one with that opinion. Kirk pulled her down on the couch beside him, whispering something in her ear that caused a sensation of emotions to dance over her face. She quickly got up and moved to the other couch, taking a seat between Michelle and Jessica.

Gunner just shook his head, a little embarrassed to be lumped into a category with Kirk and Brian tonight.

“Hello, Houseguests!” Susan said as the live cameras lit up and the huge monitor on the wall showed her face in front of several hundred audience members.

Gunner saw Zola tense, her hands clenching in her lap. When she focused on him, he touched the underside of his chin, attempting to offer a gesture of strength. Her chin did come up, but then Susan focused on her and Gunner was afraid she was about to lose it.

He was about to be pleasantly surprised.

“Zola, as the newest houseguest in the game, viewers want to know all about you.”

Zola inclined her head. “That’s understandable.”

“Do you mind if I ask you some of the questions viewers have written on Twitter?”

“No, of course not. I’d love to answer their questions.”

“Good.”

Michelle took Zola’s hand, and from Gunner’s point of view, it looked like Zola held on for dear life. Her knees were vibrating, and she was three shades paler. But then Susan began to ask her questions, and Zola slowly relaxed.

“All right. Jean wants to know if you enjoyed your candlelit dinner the other night.”

Zola glanced at Gunner, and he thought, for a second, that she associated that night with warm feelings of him. But it could also be that he happened to be in her line of sight.

“Well, Jean, I really enjoyed the food. It was all very delicious. And the company—my partner, Brian, as well as Gunner and his partner, Lesley—was quite lovely.”

“It did look delicious,” Susan said to the laughter of her live audience. “Okay. Now Cal wants to know if it’s been difficult for you to transition into the house at this late date.”

Zola shook her head. “There is a dynamic here that the other contestants have built in the six weeks the game was going on before I arrived, but they welcomed me with open arms, something for which I am eternally grateful. Especially for the friendship, I’ve developed with Michelle,” she said, raising their intertwined hands. Michelle beamed and hugged Zola for a long second. “And my partner, of course. Without his guidance, I never would have been able to navigate the waters here or assisted in winning the first challenge I participated in.”

Her eyes skated over Gunner again, but he again convinced himself that it was just chance.

“One last question for you, Zola,” Susan said. “Al wants to know if you are developing a crush on Gunner.”

Laughter exploded in the live audience, they could hear it not only over the television feed but through the thin wall that separated them from the audience itself. The other contestants didn’t react quite the same way. Brian looked pissed as he stared holes through Zola, as did Lesley. Kirk looked a little put out, and Josh seemed bored. Jessica and Michelle had amusing expressions on their faces, both trying to be neutral, but both suddenly seeing something they hadn’t seen before.

Zola’s eyes came up and focused on Gunner for a third time. He couldn’t explain it away this time. She was definitely looking at him. And there was something in her eyes that made everything below the waist ache like he was transported back to middle school, and the day his biology teacher decided to introduce sex ed to the class, only discovering too late that some jokester had put the centerfold from the latest Playboy magazine on the projector screen.

“Gunner’s a good-looking guy, wouldn’t you say, Susan?” Zola asked.

“I would say so.”

“I don’t think there’s a woman—or a few men—in this house or in the viewing audience who would deny certain appreciation for a man like Gunner.”

“But that doesn’t answer the question, Zola,” Susan pointed out.

“You don’t really think I’d say yes or no to that question right here in front of Gunner, did you, Susan? Or you, Al?”

There was more laughter. Susan herself laughed for a long moment before turning to the audience and working to get them under control. She only had time for two more questions, she said. Gunner almost expected her to ask him the same question he’d asked Zola, but instead, she asked Michelle and Josh a question each, something about what they ate in the house, and what they missed most from home. Stupid questions.

The cameras went down, and the screen went dark. Everyone sighed, climbing off the couch like they’d been stuck there for years.

“That was clever,” Michelle told Zola. “You covered yourself pretty well.”

Zola tilted her head. “It was terrifying. I don’t remember half of what I said.”

“I doubt that,” Lesley announced. “You pretend to be nervous, but it’s obvious you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Zola was still sitting on the couch while everyone else towered around her, some paying attention, but some not. She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You’re not happy with my answers to those questions, Lesley?”

“I’m not happy that all the attention is always on you. Just because you got lucky enough to be inserted into the game at the last minute—”

“I wouldn’t call that luck,” Michelle interrupted. “She’s already so far behind that it’ll be impossible for her to win.”

“Not really,” Lesley said. “It’s not like this is a points game. And she’s got the looks to catch the attention of the viewers.”

“Lesley.” Brian slid up between his partner and his lover, pushing Lesley back just a few inches. “Why don’t we go get something to eat.”

“Did you see that? All the viewer questions were for this bitch!” But then the camaraderie went out of her eyes as she studied her lover. “But you don’t care, do you? Because she’s your partner.”

A denial touched Brian’s lips, but it was obvious he didn’t mean a word of it.

“You think I’m stupid,” Lesley announced, pounding her fists against Brian’s chest. “You told me we had to cool things because we were getting to the end of the game. You said the viewers would find out, and it would be a black mark against us both. But that’s not the real reason, is it? You’re hot for that bitch!”

“Enough!”

Josh stepped in front of Zola, too, standing beside his pal, Brian. He stared Lesley down just as she stared at him with daggers flying from her eyes. Gunner decided then it was time to intervene.

“Come on, Lesley,” he said softly, gripping her upper arm, “let’s go to the room, talk about this.”

She glared at Brian. “You’re a fucking waste of space!” But she went with Gunner, bursting into tears halfway to their door. Gunner drew her inside, setting her on the edge of her bed and listening to her call Brian every bad word ever invented. He was grateful he’d had a sister because that was the only thing that got him through this.

He didn’t sign up to be a house mother. And he didn’t sign up to lose this game over some war of jealousy.

It was time to change his game up, and he knew exactly how to do it.