Kisses that had made her throw caution to the wind and invite him into her room. An impulse she hadn’t acted on since her sophomore year of college, but standing beneath that weak pool of light at the Harbor Inn, it hadn’t seemed impulsive. His green eyes had looked down into hers like she was the only woman on the planet. His strong arms were the only things keeping her safe from the madness she’d created. His strong hands pinned her in place as his mouth gave her something to think about besides the looming tempest. Lexie had always been attracted to strong men. Men who didn’t ask permission before taking her breath away. Men with knowing eyes and experienced hands.
As Lexie cooked, she figured it was probably best that he’d disappeared, even though he’d told her he’d be back to drive them to the harbor. No uncomfortable good-byes, or awkward lies about keeping in touch.
Still . . . there was a tiny part of her that wouldn’t mind seeing him again. The part that disregarded Sunday school lessons about sin and evil temptation. The completely female part that wanted him to desperately want to see her again.
The little dog sitting on her feet yipped a few times and Lexie fed her a few bites of chicken before carrying her quesadilla and a bottle of water to her parents’ room. She sat cross-legged in the middle of their bed with her dog lying beside her leg. A suspicious hollow, the perfect size of one little dog, created a dip in her dad’s pillow.
“Did you do that?” she asked, and pointed. “Papa doesn’t like you to sleep on his pillow.”
In response, Yum Yum lifted her head to rest on Lexie’s thigh, unapologetic and waiting to be fed.
“We won’t tell him.” Lexie took a bite of the crispy flour tortilla, then dug pieces of chicken from melted cheeses. “You’re such a little love muffin.” She was clean and safe in her childhood home and had her dog by her side. The tension from the past two days eased from the back of her neck and shoulders and she completely relaxed for the first time since she’d received a callback from Gettin’ Hitched.
She took an unladylike bite and turned on her dad’s big TV. The news and talk shows would have to cancel their runaway-bride contests now that she was in Seattle. No one would win a free vacation to Cancun or Disney World. Geraldine’s dream of visiting Cinderella’s Castle was crushed.
After her last bite, she set the plate on a nightstand and curled up next to her dog. Her fingers combed through the fine tuft on top of Yum Yum’s head as she pointed the remote at the screen and navigated to the Internet. She Googled her name, and sites like TMZ, Gawker, and PopSugar came up first. None of them had anything nice to say about her, and she clicked on a link to YouTube. Immediately, the image of her running down the docks a few hours ago popped up first. Her mouth dropped open and she sucked in a breath. That was quick, she thought as the appalling scene played out on the big screen. Chaotic shouting accompanied footage of her running past reporters, her hair flying from beneath her fish hat. Her Louboutins flashed like disco balls as she sprinted to Marie’s silver MINI Cooper. On those rare occasions that Lexie did choose to run, she wore a sports bra with compression panels to keep her boobs from bouncing like in the scene on TV. As her mother had always told her and her sister, “We aren’t built to run and work up a sweat. God saved us for better things.”
When the video ended, she pulled up a clip from Gettin’ Hitched. She reached for her water bottle and lifted her head enough to take a drink. She hadn’t seen every episode yet, and clicked on the segment of her and several other girls on a sailboat. It had been shot during a group date near Catalina. The sun had been out and the wind blew through her hair like she was a fashion model. What Lexie recalled most about that day was feeling queasy and forcing herself to laugh at Pete’s dumb jokes instead of barfing over the side of the boat.
The next episode to pop up was of her and Pete on a date in the backyard of the Hitchin’ House. She’d seen this clip, and it made her feel uncomfortable the second time around. Complete with flickering candles and a dozen red roses, the date was supposed to be romantic, but with a film crew less than five feet away and a boom mic just above her head, it had been more annoying than anything.
“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Pete confessed as candlelight flickered across her face. He’d reached across the table for her hand.
“I feel the same,” she’d lied to herself and felt almost triumphant. Almost. There was one word that had kept her from a victory lap with her fists in the air. Think. Thinking he was falling in love didn’t win in a three-woman match-up.
She carefully took another drink of water and watched herself move in for a kill shot, delivered so skillfully he never felt it. Flirting as well as charm ran through her blood, inherited from her mama’s side. On the fifty-five-inch screen, Lexie looked down as if overcome by Pete’s declaration. When she raised her gaze to his once more, she kept her eyelids at half-mast, as if she was overcome with desire, too. “It scares me how much I’m growing to love you.” Her thumb brushed his wrist beneath the cuff of his sleeve and she tilted her face to the side in complete surrender. “You have the power to make me blissfully happy or break my heart.” Then she licked one corner of her mouth and almost smiled when his pulse picked up and he swallowed hard. In that moment, she’d known she’d survive another week.
Lexie watched several more clips and felt like the shittiest person on the planet. Instead of lying, she should have done something to get herself kicked off. Like Desiree from Jersey, who’d crashed Pete and Tonya’s date wearing booty shorts and a bikini top and had monopolized the conversation. But Lexie was inherently competitive and had never been a graceful loser. She’d joined the cast for greater business exposure, and her plan had exceeded expectation. Still . . . it was wrong of her to work her charms and calculated flirtations on Pete. She should have let Summer win. Summer was a really sweet girl and she’d actually loved Pete. Lexie wasn’t sure how a person truly fell in love with such limited contact, but she didn’t doubt Summer’s sincerity.
The video continued to the elimination ceremony and Summer getting the pink bootin’ pin. The heartbreak in her cornflower-blue eyes filling with tears and her trembling lip made Lexie fee
l even shittier.
Summer’s last interview rolled next. Her face red and blotchy from crying, she said, “Lexie should have gone home. Not me! She doesn’t deserve Pete. It’s not fair!” That stung, but Lexie couldn’t get mad because she agreed. “She’s a spoiled brat and has everything handed to her.” That wasn’t true, but she supposed Summer was just venting. “Everyone in the house hates her. We call her Lex Luthor because she’s evil.”
Lexie’s hand stilled in Yum Yum’s tuft. “Hey now.”
“I hope Jenny wins. Lexie Kowalsky is a stuck-up—beep.” The network cut off her last word.
“I gave you my Benefits mascara!” Lexie sat up as if she’d been pulled by her hair. “When the other girls made fun of your ‘corn teeth,’ I didn’t shit-talk about you at all! I felt bad and handed you my whitening strips.” Lexie pointed the remote at the television. “You’re a backstabber, Summer from Bell Buckle, Tennessee.” She turned the television off, because she didn’t want to hear what the other girls said about her. If Summer called her a bitch, the others would say worse, and she felt beat up enough for one day.
She put her water on the nightstand and curled up with her dog. Her life was a mess, but she’d survived messes before. She’d always been able to talk or charm or work her way out of messes and turn them around. Sure, this mess seemed colossal because it was colossal, but Pete wasn’t mad any longer. That was a point in her favor. She’d recover and twist this mess to her advantage.
“There hasn’t been an online sale for five days.”
Those words still echoed in Lexie’s mind, and they had the same impact today as they had yesterday when she’d been lounging in her parents’ bed and had taken a call from her business manager, Lucy Broderick. “Three hundred and seventy returns since Thursday. Anger is the dominant sentiment in the customer comment box.” While Lexie’s head had spun, Lucy added, “The only things coming via contact e-mails are rants, marriage proposals, and a few random telephone numbers.”
The second day after her return, Lexie sat on the empty KING 5 news set and adjusted the microphone clipped to the collar of her black suit. Her hair slicked back in a simple twist, she looked like a modest businesswoman. Not the scandalous runaway Gettin’ Hitched bride or the woman in a fish hat, running up the dock, shoes flashing, boobs bouncing. Or, as her dad said when he’d seen the footage, “Two cats fighting to get out of a burlap bag.” Both her entertainment lawyer and business manager had suggested an interview to help turn her image around. The sooner, the better.
“Ready in five . . .” the manager said in her earpiece. The light on the camera in front of her turned green and Savannah Guthrie spoke into her ear, “Since last Wednesday, fans of the reality show Gettin’ Hitched have gone wild with speculations concerning our next guest. Joining us live from our affiliate in Seattle, KING 5, is the runaway bride herself, Lexie Kowalsky. Good morning, Lexie. I’m glad you agreed to be with us this morning.”
“Good morning, Savannah.” Lexie looked into the camera and kept her face without expression. Neither happy nor guilty, as her lawyer suggested. “It’s nice to be with you.”
“I think the first question on everyone’s mind is where did you go when you ran from the Fairmont?”
“A friend flew me to a small town in British Columbia.”
“What small town is that?”