“I planned this date before the rules—and it’s okay. I already planned on the drive being part of our date. Kind of a road trip.” I nodded. “You don’t mind traveling a bit, do you?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “Good.” After just a few minutes, he pulled onto the highway—going the same way we’d gone before. I was getting pretty familiar with Santa Monica nowadays. “Have you ever driven up the Pacific Coast Highway?”

  “No. I’ve lived in California for years and have a heck of a bucket list. That’s on it, but I’ve been too involved in day-to-day stuff that I just haven’t done it.”

  “This is part of it, you know.”

  “Oh, Highway One—” I started to ask.

  “Yeah, is it. Now this section isn’t that exciting, but wait till we get a little farther. And the restaurant where we’ll be eating lunch has great views of the ocean.”

  He wasn’t lying that the road trip was part of the date. I smiled, marveling at his thoughtfulness.

  “And I know the dates the guys have been taking you on—at least, what they’ve said they’ve done. This probably isn’t as exciting, so I apologize.” Darius looked in the rearview mirror and then out the driver’s side before moving to the left lane where traffic was moving a little faster. “But I thought the whole point of this show was for us to get to know each other. The producers keep giving us these huge lists of ideas if we feel like we’re stuck, and I fell victim to that thinking last time, which is why I took you to laser tag.”

  “In all fairness, Darius, that was a lot of fun.”

  “Yeah, it was, but I still don’t know much about you—except that you’re a good sport.” I laughed. “If we’re taking the premise of this show seriously, then we can’t just trust the matchmakers. Should we take their word for it that we’re compatible? Then let’s say we do get married, and a year from now are all like, What the hell was I thinking? Naw. I want to get to know you, Claire, and I hope you want to get to know me. That’s the way we’ll really know if we’re a good match.”

  That was probably the most I’d ever heard from Darius—and it was good to know we’d been thinking the same damn thing.

  “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

  “So far, I believe we could be compatible and be a solid match for life—but let’s see what kind of chemistry we have.”

  Ooh, chemistry. I liked the sound of that.

  Traffic got thicker as we went and Darius moved to the middle lane for about half a mile but then moved to the right lane and, after about another mile, traffic eased up again and we were finally driving at a good clip.

  “What do you think about the show so far, Claire? Do you think you’ll have a good feeling about whoever’s chosen for you when we’re at the end?”

  At that moment, there would be no answering his question. Things happened quickly as adrenaline rushed through my veins, because Darius said, “Shit. Hang on.” I turned my head from looking at him to the road and saw that a big car was pulling out right in front of us—and we were going to be lucky if Darius could get the car to stop before we rammed into their side.

  In fact, we’d be lucky to walk away from it.

  Chapter Nine

  THE SECONDS SLOWED to a crawl as we got closer and closer to the car that had pulled out in front of us. Inch by inch, we got nearer, and instinctively my hand gripped the dash, my feet pressing into the floor as if I could psychically help us brake. Darius turned the wheel while continuing to apply the brake, and maybe the dumb ass who’d pulled out in front of us saw he was about to be hit because he finally moved a little faster, maybe trying to get out of our way—but we weren’t in the clear yet, especially because when I glanced in my side mirror, I saw that the guy behind us was getting pretty damn close, too.

  I was clasping the dash so hard, I was surprised I didn’t pull a chunk off of it.

  Darius’s driving skills saved us, though. He managed to (barely) avoid hitting the car in front of us—but I heard the sound of crunching metal as the guy behind us made contact with our bumper. The force of the truck hitting us moved us forward once again but we finally ground to a stop. Rattled, I found myself waiting for another hit as time seemed to speed up again.

  Fortunately, none came.

  “Are you all right?” Darius asked.

  “Yeah,” I replied, mentally examining my body. My psyche, however, needed a few moments to chill.

  “What about you, man? You okay?”

  The cameraman said, “Yeah. Sorry, but I think I need to keep filming.”

  “Do what you gotta do.” Darius looked out the side mirror and slowly eased his door open. Traffic passing by was moving slower than usual, no doubt trying to maintain safety as they passed—either that or as they gawked at the mess. I looked ahead and couldn’t see the offending car anywhere.

  “Should I call 911?”

  “You could, but I bet someone already did.”

  I doubted that. I fished in my purse for my cell phone and made the call, our date now the farthest thing from my mind…

  * * *

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so angry. The person who should have been madder than hell was Darius, but he was cool and collected. Impressive.

  Now, though, we were standing off the road, waiting for a new vehicle. The old car was towed away, probably for repair but maybe to be totaled—I had no idea—but the producers were sending over a new car and told us we could either come back to the mansion or resume our date. The choice was ours.

  After the shit we’d just gone through, there was no way I wasn’t going through with the date—unless Darius wanted to go back to the mansion. So I told him that. “I’m okay with continuing our date if you are.”

  “Of course. This was just a little snag.”

  I loved how he didn’t let any of this shit rattle him. It was a testament to his inner calm and, as I marveled at that, I realized how much I needed that kind of guy in my life. I hadn’t gotten a sense of this kind of peace from any of the other guys.

  Putting the cart before the horse, though.

  Soon, we were in a gray Prius and cruising back down the highway. Darius spoke first. “Wally, I didn’t even think that you were filming the whole time until you said something. That was brilliant.”

  “It’s evidence. That way when the jackass they have to arrest for—it’s not hit and run but whatever—for causing an accident, they’ve got it on film. There’s no denying it.”

  I swallowed and said, “Guys…was it just me or was that cop being a total dick?”

  Darius shrugged, keeping his eye on traffic. “I don’t know. He seemed pretty typical to me.”

  “Really?” I turned in my chair to look at our camera guy. “What did you think?”

  “Yeah…kind of a dick.”

  I wondered if maybe I knew the reason—and I almost hated saying it out loud…but if Darius and I were going to get to know each other better, this was a fair question. “Do you think…it’s because he’s prejudiced?”

  “Could be.”

  Why was he being so casual about it? “Doesn’t that piss you off?”

  “And what good does that do, Claire? You take a guy who already looks at me like a criminal and I get all indignant and in his face—what do you think that will solve? Or will it be like taking a match to a gasoline-soaked rag?”

  Fair point. “But—”

  “There are no buts about it. And, in all fairness, he wasn’t exactly nice to you, either.”

  “Maybe he’s just a dick in general,” the camera guy chimed in.

  “So imagine how miserable he is. He’s chosen to work in a profession where he sees bad people all the time, and he’s obviously got some issues. He’s the one who has to go home at night and live in his own skin. I refuse to make it my problem.”

  Having had to learn in life to stand up for myself, I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around his viewpoint, but I was intrigued. “That’s nice, Darius, but how do you keep your temper in check.”

  “It’s easy. All those things I just told you? I believe them. I believe I’m in a better place than he is, so it’s easy to show compassion and not let it get to me.” I think he sensed I still wasn’t buying it. “I have to believe that most people are as good as they know how to be with the tools they’ve been given to cope. And I also have to believe that people are doing as well as they can at any given moment. Does that mean that some people seem to be dicks? Sure. Does that mean all people are always good? No. But it gives me the space and freedom to let go and not let that shit bother me.”

  Ah…the source of calmness.

  “I’m not a Buddhist, but I’ve studied it and have seriously considered embracing it full on. I just don’t think I’m ready yet.”

  I was awestruck—blown away, in fact. “I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be. I have a long way to go—but just what little I’ve done has helped me deal with a lot of negative shit in my life.”

  The only question I had left was one I’d never ask: Why the hell was he on this show?

  * * *

  Darius hadn’t been kidding about the restaurant. It was breathtaking and most definitely worth the hype he’d given it. I discovered quickly upon arrival that, even though we didn’t have an official reservation, they’d been expecting us. Perks of being on an already popular show.

  We got a table away from a lot of other diners but next to a window (the entire wall was nothing but) so we had a beautiful view of beach and ocean. It was a late lunch, so no candles were lit, but the place had a high-class feel anyway. I knew it was because of the linens, both tablecloth and napkins, and the tiny plants that served as centerpieces.

  Our water glasses were filled and then the waiter came by to get our drink orders. Darius said, “I don’t know about you, but after our adventures today, I think I want a glass of wine.”

  “Yes, make that two.”

  Soon, we were sipping wine and nibbling from a cheese plate. Because our date happened later than planned, I think Darius was worried about the cameraman and offered him some cheese and fruit (which the camera guy declined, but Darius told him the offer stood). Darius focused on asking me questions, reminding me that was why he’d wanted a simple lunch. I told him what I’d told everyone else, a story that was getting old for me, but it was the first time he’d heard it.

  “Why do you want to be an actress, Claire? What about that profession appeals to you?”

  It was a question that none of the other men had asked but one that I’d examined myself over the years. “When I was younger and tried to figure out what I wanted to do with my life, a lot of jobs sounded interesting—but I knew they’d get boring eventually. As an actress, I’ll be able to be different people with each role, so it’ll be like I’m living dozens of lives.”

  “I can see that…but have you ever thought of doing something else?”

  I couldn’t help the scowl on my face. “Well, I wait tables for a living and I’ve worked in retail some. I can tell you I don’t enjoy those jobs.”

  “I might be wrong, Claire, but I’m not surprised. You seem intuitive, empathetic. You have a big heart—and I could see you doing something more humanitarian.”

  Really? I didn’t think I could see that but, as the idea buried itself in my bones, I started to think of other possibilities—but I wasn’t ready to give up on my dream yet. The waiter brought our main courses, and I decided to shift the conversation to him a little. I needed to know more about this man.

  “What about you, Darius? Why are you on the show?”

  I saw a shadow cross over his eyes, making me wonder what was in his mind. “Let’s just say the opportunity presented itself—and I could use the prize money.”

  Tilting my head, I asked, “Prize money?”

  “Yeah. I told you about it last week. All of us guys earn prize money, depending on how far in the show we make it. Even Spencer got money, even though it wasn’t much. More than that, though, something I didn’t know until I’d been chosen, is that we’ll get more perks as time goes on. Like the last two guys will get cars, based on our sponsors, and a big deal will be made out of that—although you might not be part of that, Claire.”

  I tried not to let my disappointment show. “So you’re only doing this for money?”

  His disarming smile grabbed my heart. “I started out that way, yes. But I hadn’t known what to expect, any more than the other guys or maybe even you. Did you know this is what it would be like?”

  “I hadn’t known what to expect.”

  “Exactly. I didn’t think I could develop feelings for anyone in a contrived setting in such a short time—but I have to admit I like you very much.”

  I smiled. I guess I’d hoped for a stronger reaction—because I felt more than a little fondness for Darius—but at least he didn’t hate my ass, right? And I supposed he also had to guard his heart a little, because he was competing against three other men—and, if I wound up with someone else, he’d have to find a way to let go. “The feeling’s mutual, Darius.”

  “How’s your risotto?”

  “Amazing.”

  “Worth the drive, right?”

  I nodded. “What about your lobster?”

  “I came for the view and the company. Everything else is gravy, as they say. But, yes, it’s good.”

  “Thanks for bringing me here.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Sorry about the wreck.”

  Grinning, I said, “It probably makes for good TV.”

  We finished our meals, followed by dessert—tiramisu for him, carrot cake for me…but we shared with each other. Then, with fifteen minutes before we had to head out (because the producers had “recalculated” how much time we had), we walked the beach a little. Darius took my hand in his and we enjoyed the fresh salty air and sunshine. There were some clouds along the horizon, blocking the sun on occasion, but it didn’t change how lovely the weather seemed.

  We headed back to the car and, next to my door before he opened it for me, Darius asked, “Can I kiss you?”

  “Do you even have to ask?” I grabbed him by the collar and pulled his face down to mine. Out of all the men, he was a true gentleman and honestly more surprising than any of the others. No, I didn’t think I knew any of the men really well, but Darius seemed like a kind soul, even if there were lots of things I knew I didn’t know about him—but it made me want to know him better.

  This kiss was even better than our first, gentle yet consuming—and I knew I wanted to spend lots more time with him.

  “I need to get you back.”

  “It’s kind of like being a kid again. Gotta get home before I get in trouble.”

  He laughed. “Something like that.”

  The calm drive back made the wreck earlier seem like ancient history. Even though traffic was still pretty steady, we didn’t have any dummies pulling out in front of us. Darius once more offered to pull into a convenience store or something for the cameraman to get something to eat or drink, but he said no. He’d had a glass of water at the restaurant, so he was fine.

  When we got to the mansion, Darius continued treating me like a date. He wrapped an arm around my waist and let me inside. As we started to head to my room, though, we heard shouting in one of the areas just off the great room and, because they were our roommates, we didn’t even ask each other if we wanted to see what was going on.

  In the game room, Gabe and Thomas were just inches from each other. Grayson towered behind them but acted like he wasn’t sure if he should try to pull them apart or not. Face to face, they shouted at each other, ready to come to blows.

  What the hell was going on?

  Chapter Ten

  “TRY ME, MOTHERFUCKER. Just try me.” Gabe was no longer the sweet, thoughtful man—instead, scary and intimidating, and I believed, just hearing his voice, that he could beat the shit out of Thomas.

  Two cameramen—and now a third—just stood around and filmed.

  Thomas’s chest was puffed out and his brow furrowed, his fists clenched at his side. “No need to try, asshole. Let’s do this.”

  “Take it outside, guys,” one of the cameramen said.

  “Stop it!” I shouted, angry that no one was doing anything to stop them.

  Darius, though, approached, even though he probably knew he was likely to get in the line of fire—or, worse, they might turn their aggression on him. “Guys…” Apparently, Darius not only had a calming effect on me but on everyone else as well…because both men took a deep breath and seemed to relax a little. “Now what’s going on between you two? How can I help?”

  Thomas backed off a little and said, “It’s nothing, man.”

  “Like hell it’s not. Thomas doesn’t know how to drop anything.”

  “Guys…I thought all our problems were behind us.”

  “Just replaced,” Gabe said, his jaw rippling, suggesting unleashed aggression.

  “Thomas?”

  “It’s cool, man.”

  Darius blinked and then turned back to Gabe. Gabe finally said, “Yeah, fine.” But then to Thomas he said, “Just stay out of my face.” But then he turned his fury on Darius. “And how the fuck did you manage to double your date time? How’s that fair?”

  “Didn’t anyone tell you?”

  I felt rage rising from my gut. “We were in an accident, asshole. Instead of complaining about our date, you should be asking if we’re all right!”

  Gabe’s eyebrows shot up his forehead and he waved his hands in front of his chest. “Peace. Sorry! I was just messing around.”

  Cat peeked in then—shitty timing, I thought at first, but then I realized that, of course, they wanted drama. If she’d shown up and broken it up, there wouldn’t be as much footage to use. “Just wanted to let you all know we’ll have dinner a little later than usual, so feel free to grab a snack if you need to.” Her eyes moved to Darius and me. “Glad you made it back safely.”

  Yeah…but leave it to the show to ruin even the end of my date. But no matter. They couldn’t steal my memories of the day.

 

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