The Consequence of Revenge
“I said I was trying . . . hard, Becca, you do the math,” I snapped.
“Guys!” Reid came barreling down the beach to the camera crew. “Rex says to wrap things up.”
Big Al grunted and gave a firm nod. The camera turned off, and within a few minutes we were alone.
Except for a grinning Reid.
And the goat that followed.
First things first . . . I was going to kill Reid, and then I was going to do a Google search on the sleeping habits of the goat species.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
BECCA
Max slowly helped me to my feet. I tried to avert my eyes so I wasn’t looking directly at him and his happy place, but it was almost impossible. Thankfully, things seemed to be going back to normal since Reid’s arrival.
“Ah, Brother.” Max gritted his teeth together. “How lovely of you to join us on this beautiful evening.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed, and we started walking toward Reid.
“No problem.” Reid’s eyes narrowed at Max, and then lowered. Was the guy seriously checking out his brother? “I mean, I don’t have a problem. Do you have a little problem? Anything you wish to discuss? Be rescued from?”
Max shrugged. “Not really. Oh, and thanks for interrupting what I’m pretty sure is going to go down in TV history as the best kiss ever—I should punch you in the throat.”
“But—” Reid looked between the two of us, then glanced back down at Max. “I thought that . . .”
“Come on, Hades.” Max clicked his tongue.
The goat fell into step beside us as we walked back toward his hut.
“Becca and I were just going to discuss our game plan for the rest of the week.” Max said this so nonchalantly that I almost missed it, and then he winked, and every thought flew out the window.
“Right,” I said quickly. “That.”
“Game plan?”
“Oh, and breakfast in the morning”—Max nodded—“is super early so we really need our sleep. Thanks for nothing, Reid. See ya.”
With a tug Max had me in his hut, followed by the goat, who surprisingly stepped around us and went to the corner, where he lay down on what I can only imagine used to be articles of clothing and started chomping down.
“Aren’t you afraid?” I pointed at the goat.
“Nah, as long as Hades has underwear I’m his favorite person. Can’t tell if it makes him horny or just so damn distracted he doesn’t care whether it’s me or a stranger he stays with.”
In response the goat made a gurgling noise and looked over at us, sighing contentedly.
“I have to say”—I smiled at Max—“I’m proud of you.”
“I’m proud of me too.” Max beamed. “Now, about that discussion we were having on the beach.”
He pulled me closer to his body, but my feet hit something on the ground. Papers fluttered around my sandals. “What’s this?”
“Oh, that’s my chart.”
“Your chart?”
He nodded. “To ward off the crazies.”
“Did you actually learn the names of all the girls?”
“Yup, and I assigned nicknames.”
“Who’s that?” I pointed to one of the girls, one with short-cropped black hair.
“Nicki, but her nickname is Minion. She wore overalls the first day of filming and every time she smiles I swear I hear the theme song to Despicable Me.”
I covered my laughter with my hand. Yeah, that mental picture was spot-on.
“And her?” I was both curious and buying time. I didn’t want to finish the conversation from the beach, because I was pretty sure I would end up . . . naked, somewhere, and I’d only known Max for three days. Three days and he was already making me second-guess all my preconceived notions about the type of guy he was. I’d thought that because he was funny he was harmless, but I’d had no idea funny could be dangerous because it was too easy to let him in and once he was in he stayed there—refusing to budge. He wasn’t just funny; he was sexy and had a personality that was electric.
Besides, he kissed like a dream.
An actual dream.
If I could build every dream from here on out, it would include that man’s mouth on every part of my body.
“Hey.” Max grabbed my hand. “You okay? You’re really flushed.”
“Yeah,” I croaked. “I’m a bit hot.”
“If you remember, I did offer to go skinny-dipping.”
“Ha!” I hit him playfully across the chest. “So you never answered my question, who’s that girl?”
Max didn’t take his eyes off me. “Easy, it’s Cat, or Catherine, and I actually just use the name Cat because she has super freakishly long nails that I’m pretty sure have some sort of fungus growing underneath them on account that when one broke earlier today it oozed.”
“Whoa!” I held up my hands. “Not a mental picture I needed.”
“You asked.” His smile was bright. Was it really necessary he be that good-looking and funny? “So . . .” He brought my hand to his full lips and kissed it. “Is that a no on getting naked?”
“Again . . .” I rolled my eyes even though the idea made me hot all over. “Does that line work?”
His eyes hooded with desire. “You tell me.”
“Nope,” I lied. Yes. Hell, yes, it worked.