Chapter Nine #2
He wrinkles his nose. “But I’m not on Hopper duty until Wednesday.”
“That was your first mistake. Thing’s going to be way more full in a couple of days.” I laugh at his horrified realization that I’m right, then pat him on the head. “But really, we’ve got dinner. If Farah doesn’t need help with the tents, you’re off the hook.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice, slipping around the prep tables and heading to the guides’ end of the beach.
Leaving me alone with Mr. Hollywood and his scrutiny. As long as he doesn’t try to get to know me, I’ll be fine.
“Do I want to ask?” Derek says, eyebrows pulling low when I look at him. “What’s with the glare?”
“Obviously you do want to ask,” I mutter and force my forehead to relax.
“Oh, no, I had a different question, and then you laser-eyed me. I don’t have to help if you’d rather work with Mason. I can hide in my tent or something.”
Sighing, I shake my head and grab the plastic container with all the sharp knives so I can have Derek start slicing. I hand him a knife and cutting board, then hold out the peppers. “As long as it isn’t Frat Boy or Gym Bro in here with me, I’m fine.”
As he takes out the first pepper, Derek’s eyes jump to the WanderLove group gathered by the water, interest brightening his features. “Which one is which?”
“Honestly? I have no idea. Mason and Thiago came up with the nicknames.”
“Not you?”
I glance at him sideways as I open the packages of chicken. “I generally prefer to call people by their names.” Except, of course, the man standing next to me, though I’m not sure why I’m so inclined to call him anything but Derek.
He hums, narrowing his eyes at me as if mirroring my thoughts, but then he turns back to the WanderLove group. He watches them chat and laugh on the shore for a few seconds, then his focus returns to the peppers. “It’s rare to see a group of friends that big.”
“Oh, they’re not friends. I don’t think they even knew each other before this week.”
“Really?”
I shrug. “Apparently they’re from some sort of matchmaking site and are here to find love.” I can’t repress a shudder that runs through me, though I hope Derek doesn’t notice.
“Do you have something against single people?” Of course he noticed.
“Nope,” I say, keeping my eyes on the table in front of us as I start cutting the chicken. “Ones who proposition me before the trip has even started, on the other hand…”
His knife slips right before he cuts into a pepper, nearly getting one of his fingers, and his whole body freezes when I look at him.
Like, entirely motionless. He doesn’t even breathe for a full five seconds, but then he blinks and relaxes, adjusting his hold on the knife and shaking his head as he slices the top off the pepper like nothing happened. “Someone did that?”
“Brody,” I say, watching him slice the pepper into neat strips.
He’s clearly confident with the knife, but after that slip, I’m wondering if I should give him a different task.
I don’t want to have to put my first aid training to use.
“He’s the one with the hair swoop and a ‘better than you’ expression.
And technically he just suggested that we share a tent. Nothing more than that.”
Derek grunts. “Sounds like grounds for barring his attendance.”
“We like to give people the benefit of the doubt here at Red Earth, and he backed off when I told him no. That counts for something.” Why am I defending Brody?
No idea. It’s kind of nice to have someone back me up in my frustration with an overeager man.
Derek’s response is especially validating; I hate when women minimize their experiences with pushy guys.
“Is Brody the one looking at you right now?”
I peer around Derek and wince when I catch Brody’s intent gaze. He looks away when he realizes I’ve noticed him, but based on his smirk, he doesn’t seem to mind being caught. “Uh, yeah.”
“Noted,” Derek mutters, and I almost shiver at the way his eyebrows have pulled together and left his countenance dark. That’s quite the protective look he has… “If he comes on to you again, I can—”
“Fight him off for me? Ha!” Wiping my hands on a towel, I open the kitchen box to grab our biggest frying pan, using the moment to tamp down my attraction.
“As fun as that would be to watch, I don’t think the people who run your life for you would be happy if you got into a brawl and returned to Hollywood with a black eye. But thanks for the offer.”
“A brawl generally involves more than two people.” Though his eyes are on the vegetables in front of him, I can almost feel his focus on me as I continue prepping the meat next to him.
“So unless you expect the whole group to join in on the fun, you’re going to be disappointed.
Besides, that isn’t what I was going to say. ”
“No?”
“I was going to say I can have Hunter hang out with you whenever we’re at camp. He’s very good at staring people down.”
Pressing my hand over my heart, since my hands are covered in chicken juice, I turn toward him and say, “Aww, you would share your bodyguard with me, Superman? My hero!”
He turns too, one eyebrow lifting high. “Superman? Really? That’s the one role I haven’t played.”
“Ah yes, the only one.”
“How many of my movies have you seen, anyway?”
More than I would ever admit to him. “A few, but we have to acknowledge that at this point, it’s pretty much impossible to sit through every single Derek Riley movie. No one has that kind of time.”
He snorts, shaking his head. “Was that an insult or praise? I can’t tell.”
I honestly don’t know, but I’m getting too comfortable. For some reason, Derek keeps convincing me to talk to him. “I’ll let you decide on that one, Riley.”
“Could…” He pauses, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as he looks at me. “I really do prefer Derek. Riley isn’t actually my last name.” His eyes go wide at the same time my mouth slips open.
I don’t think he meant to tell me that.
Clearing my throat, I force a smile and roll my eyes. “Wow,” I say with as much sarcasm as I can put into the word. “A big Hollywood star is using a stage name? How original!”
Just as I hoped, Derek relaxes and finishes cutting the last pepper. “Wait until you hear about Meryl Streep’s real name.”
I can’t hold back my laugh, even if I don’t love how much this guy is growing on me. “Don’t tell me. Ignorance is bliss.”
He grins, hitting me with that megawatt smile of his and fanning the flames of a feeling in me that needs to be doused before it turns dangerous. Then something seems to click in his mind, and he tilts his head. “Oh, my original question.”
I brace myself. “The one you were afraid to ask?”
He nods, and a bit of fear enters his voice when he says, “What in the world is a Hopper?”