Chapter Seven
Skye adjusted her sunglasses as she stepped off the speedboat and onto the sun-warmed dock.
The boards, which were still damp from the morning tide, flexed faintly under her feet.
A few steps ahead, Nova was already heading toward the shaded cabana draped in gauzy white linens.
Skye had expected Nova to at least wait until she was off the boat before she made her way over to their date setup, but clearly, chivalry was dead.
“Wow,” Nova said, gasping, and turning back to look at Skye making her way onto the sand. “This is amazing.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Skye muttered, joining her. She forced a smile despite the tightness in her chest that had been stuck there ever since the game of volleyball this morning. More specifically, ever since Lucy had whacked a ball in her face and then came running to her side.
She should’ve picked Lucy. But she hadn’t. Because she couldn’t.
The entire point of this date was to show range. To prove both to the audience and to the producers watching from a distance that she wasn’t giving her favorites extra airtime. Not that Lucy was her favorite. Or maybe she was. What was so wrong with that?
But choosing Lucy again, right after the first impression, would’ve looked biased. Or worse, it would’ve looked like she was developing feelings.
Which she wasn’t.
Lucy was just different. A little more real than the other contestants, a little less rehearsed. And so what if she wanted to spend more time with her? Maybe she wanted to laugh over Lucy’s terrible serve, or the panic-stricken expression on her face as she rushed over to Skye’s side to apologize.
It felt so much easier with her. Natural. Which was hilarious given they’d barely spent more than twenty minutes in each other’s company. But she had a knack for these things, for reading people, for sensing when something, or someone, had potential.
Skye had spent years putting out behind-the-scenes fires, rerouting drama, and coaxing sobbing contestants out of bathroom stalls.
By now she could tell the difference between an act built for the camera and someone who wasn’t just faking it for the airtime.
Lucy wasn’t faking anything. The woman wore her heart on her sleeve.
Earlier when Skye had picked Nova for the date, she’d caught a quick flicker of hurt cross Lucy’s face.
It was an exhale that looked like it had surprised even her.
Yes, everyone else had looked disappointed.
But somehow Lucy’s face looked more like a crack she hadn’t meant to show.
“Are we seriously going paddling?” Nova asked, interrupting Skye’s thoughts. She pointed to two paddleboards leaning against a palm tree just off the side of the cabana. “That’s one of my all-time favorite things to do. Do you paddle much?” She looked over at Skye with an eager smile.
Skye forced a smile back. “I like dry land,” she said, but regretted it instantly.
She knew Marla would probably delete that response.
It wasn’t very bachelorette-y to admit you didn’t like water sports on a tropical island date.
She was supposed to be Skye Wilder, the risk-taker, remember?
Thrill-seeking romantic who lived for sunset adventures and spontaneous ocean kisses.
Not the camera-shy assistant director, who didn’t like strong ocean currents, group activities, or tropical humidity.
“Should we have a seat?” Skye asked, hoping to get Nova’s mind off paddleboarding.
“Sure,” Nova replied.
They settled into the cabana around a fruit platter sitting on a low bamboo table. On it were fanned pineapple slices, a whole passion fruit cut open into a heart, and a juicy mango that looked like it would be messy to eat.
Skye plucked a piece of pineapple and bit into it.
She had no idea what to say first or what questions to ask.
Her mind was blank. Which was funny, since she was usually the one feeding lines to bachelorettes when things got awkward.
She could practically smell Marla’s irritation from the tent over.
“So, how’s the villa?” Skye asked finally when Nova reached for a slice of mango.
“Hot,” Nova replied. “But in a good way. The villa is beautiful. Everyone is friendly, and I haven’t cried on camera yet, so I feel like I’m doing just fine, to be honest.”
Skye gave a polite chuckle. “You’re off to a strong start.”
Nova grinned. “You laugh, but I swear two of the contestants were already whisper-fighting this morning in the kitchen.”
“Classic day two tension,” Skye said before she could stop herself. That was exactly the kind of comment someone from the production tent would make. Certainly not a comment the bachelorette would make.
“Is that a real thing?”
Skye cleared her throat and glanced down at her knees, hoping she looked apologetic enough to avoid Marla’s wrath later.
She had to fix this, and she had to do it now.
“From what I’ve seen in previous seasons,” she added.
“Day two is usually when the novelty wears off and people start realizing they’re actually trapped in a house full of strangers trying to date the same person. ”
Nova laughed, and Skye would’ve sighed in relief if the cameras weren’t rolling.
“So, I heard you live in a van.”
“Who told you that?”
Skye winced inwardly. Fuck. How was she messing up this badly?
Once again, she had said something she wasn’t supposed to know.
The fact that Nova lived in a van with her Pitbull Athena and travelled cross country was in the woman’s bio.
Bachelorette Skye would never have known that, not unless someone had told her.
“Amy,” she said quickly, because that would be something Amy, the most bubbly contestant, would probably have shared at some point. “How is that? Living in a van,” she added, hoping she had sounded convincing enough.
“It’s definitely an adventure,” Nova replied, not at all suspicious. “Small space. Lots of freedom. Plus, I get to travel wherever I want, which is great for my work as a freelance photographer.”
“What kind of things do you photograph?” Skye asked, though she already knew the answer. Dogs. The woman photographed dogs.
“Dogs,” Nova replied, smiling.
Even though she had no interest in knowing more, Skye was about to ask more in-depth questions about it when a sound somewhere in the distance suddenly caught her attention. A buzz of sorts. Or maybe something raspier, like an engine revving nearby.
She squinted into the bright sun right in time to see two jet skis cutting through the sparkling water.
At first, Skye thought it was a staged stunt by the production team for a promo shot.
But then she saw two contestants on the boats.
One had sandy blonde hair whipping wildly behind her, and the other had brown hair tied in a ponytail that was swinging like a helicopter rotor. They were headed right toward them.
Skye had no idea what the hell was happening.
This was not part of the carefully planned activities agenda.
There had been no mention of jet skis, no impromptu date crashing during yesterday morning’s agenda.
She squinted harder, trying to focus, to make sense of what was going on.
Had she missed something? Was this a Marla thing to spice things up?
And then Marla’s voice rang out from the side. “Plot twist, ladies! It’s a challenge. Lucy and Charlotte are racing for a chance to steal the date. First one to the dock gets to take Nova’s place!”
Nova choked on her mango slice, her brown eyes wide. “Wait, what?”
Skye stood up, her legs moving of their own accord.
The jet skis thundered forward. The engines roared. Lucy and Charlotte leaned hard into the turns, splashing seawater everywhere.
It was close. Neck and neck. But with a final burst of speed, Lucy somehow managed to pull ahead and slammed her jet ski into shore first. Charlotte skidded in seconds later, clinging to the handlebars.
Lucy half-jumped, half-fell off the thing, and hit the sand with a wide grin on her face.
Her feet sank slightly as she staggered forward.
Water was dripping from her shorts, and her hair was plastered to her neck.
She looked both windswept and giddy and so obnoxiously pleased with herself that Skye couldn’t help smiling wide. Too wide.
Then, before Skye could react, Lucy stumbled into the cabana and threw her arms around her neck.
“Hell yeah!” Lucy breathed, looking pumped. “That was so damn fun! Can’t remember the last time I was on a jet ski.”
She was dripping wet, warm, and sun soaked. Her arms were tight around Skye’s neck, not awkward, not hesitant, but full body, like they’d known each other for years.
Skye hugged her back. It was reflexive, of course, but her hands paused at her waist and smoothed up her back. The move was just enough to register the lovely shape of her body, and just enough to feel how hot she really was. And before she knew what had come over her, Skye was inhaling.
Lucy’s hair smelled like coconut sunscreen and saltwater. It was delicious and intoxicating. Which was why Skye pulled away quickly.
Weird. That was too weird, she told herself. Her face was politely neutral even as her ears burned red and hot. Hugging was fine. Hugging was normal. But smelling her hair? Smelling definitely crossed a line.
“Lucy is the winner!” Marla exclaimed. “Nova, you’re headed back to the house, sweetheart. You too, Charlotte. But don’t worry, you both get to go back to the villa on the jet skis.”
Charlotte didn’t look too pleased. In fact, she looked quite panicked. Not that Marla noticed; she was already moving. “Congratulations, Lucy. You get to stay and enjoy the date.”
Lucy’s grin widened, almost becoming too big for her face.
She looked at Skye with flushed cheeks and bright eyes, and suddenly something Skye refused to acknowledge bloomed bright and hot in her chest. The cameras panned in exactly like Skye knew they would, and she gave a quick, tight smile as if she had this under control.
She did not.
And now she found herself alone with Lucy on a beach, trying very hard not to look at her mouth and her very kissable lips.