Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
tyler
He spends the rest of the week counting down the days until he can see Winnie again.
Nina stares at him from behind the camera the entire time, practically stabbing him with her eyes, willing him to go along with the game.
But he can’t. Not after telling Winnie’s parents.
Not after looking Alexandru in the eye and promising to be faithful.
She can plant whatever stories she wants.
Spread whatever lies she wants. He’ll figure it out.
His reputation can be salvaged. Winnie’s too. Alexandru’s trust cannot.
So he hugs the other women hello. He kisses their cheeks.
He’s as cordial as he knows how to be with their families, keeping it all as platonic as possible.
Every time the crew tries to steer the conversation to proposals and romance and love, he not-so-kindly steers it back.
After three days of this shit, even he’s getting bored of talking about hockey, but it’s his safe zone.
His neutral ground. And it helps that most of the parents have stars in their eyes whenever he brings the topic up, future Hall of Famer and all—it softens the blow of him clearly not being in love with their daughters.
At the puzzle ceremony, he doesn’t even bother trying to pretend.
He ignores Nina’s death glare and refuses to leave Winnie’s side until it’s time to send someone home.
He wants to keep both of Winnie’s friends for another week, but he already made that deal with Nina to let Victoria stay until the end, so that option is out.
The choice between Cynthia and Charlotte doesn’t really matter much to him, but the network makes it easy by offering Charlotte a spot on some dance competition show.
The opportunity is one he’s sure Winnie wouldn’t want her to miss.
So he says goodbye to the sweet Southern belle and keeps Cynthia around instead.
Just like that, there are only three women left and three more dates before he can shed the pretense of giving a shit about anyone on this show except Winnie.
Best of all, it’s “dream suite” week, which means he’s going to get a night sans the cameras with Winnie plus the ability to cut the other two dates short. It’s a win-win.
One more week to get through.
One easy week.
He can do it.
He will.
“Can you believe this?” Winnie laughs as she sticks her arms beneath the powerfully churning waterfall and looks up at him in awe.
Their date started with an hour-long helicopter tour of Oahu, followed by a short hike to this private lagoon where they’ve been given permission to swim while production prepares a picnic over on the rocky shore.
He knows he should be captivated by the lush tropical surroundings.
They’re straight out of a movie and unlike anything he’s ever experienced before—all green jungle and pink flowers and crystal-clear waters.
As the spray catches the sunlight, rainbows dance across the sky. It’s insane.
Yet all he sees is Winnie.
Her bright hazel eyes.
Her long black hair.
Her freckled cheeks, painted pink by the heat in his gaze.
In a few short hours, they’ll finally be alone and he’ll finally be able to live out every fantasy he’s spent a hellishly long amount of time dreaming up.
The anticipation is a live wire beneath his skin, lighting up every innocent touch, every innocuous glance.
The vapors filling the air around them may as well be steam, he’s so fucking charged.
It’s a wonder the water around him isn’t boiling.
“Ty?”
Winnie inhales sharply as he hooks his fingers under the ties of her red bikini and pulls her closer.
He splays his fingers around her hips, touching as much of her smooth skin as possible.
They’re chest to chest, barely clothed, in a spot practically pulled from the pages of those romance novels she loves so much.
Her breathing turns shallow as she tilts her face up.
A spark flares to life in the depths of her eyes. That’s all it takes for him to ignite.
Tyler crashes his lips against hers, almost frantic as a groan escapes his throat.
Winnie’s right there with him. She wraps her arms around his neck, sighing into his mouth as her fingers dig through his hair.
He rakes his palms up her sides, thumbs brushing the outer edges of her breasts.
Her nails claw into his shoulders as she presses closer.
“Could you shift a little to the left?” one of the cameramen calls. “I can’t really see Winnie in the shot.”
Fuck off!
Tyler spins so Winnie is even further hidden behind his broad back.
“That’s okay. I’ve got it!” the other guy calls from the opposite side. Tyler wants to scream. “Why don’t you grab a drone shot instead?”
That’s it!
He’s done with these assholes. He’s done having an audience.
He’s done.
Period.
Tyler drops his hands to the backs of Winnie’s thighs and lifts in the same moment he steps forward.
Water pounds their heads as he carries her into the waterfall, praying his hunch is right.
Winnie breaks off with a laugh and lifts her arms up to take the brunt of the pressure.
In a second it’s over. They pass through the worst and then they’re alone, protected by a curtain of white no camera will be able to pass and a thunderous roar no microphone will overpower.
They look at the water.
Then at each other.
Droplets splash against Winnie’s cheeks as she flashes him a devious grin.
It’s all the encouragement he needs. His palms slide to her ass, fingers dipping beneath the clingy material of her suit to feel every inch of her curves.
Winnie hooks her ankles behind his back and grinds against him.
The sense of privacy leaves him emboldened.
He can’t hold himself back. He trails his mouth along the edge of her jaw, down the side of her neck, over her collarbone, using the rock wall for leverage as he pulls her swimsuit aside with his teeth.
Winnie arches with a cry, giving him full access as he sucks that rosy bud between his lips, putting his tongue to work.
She grips his hair, holding him against her.
He palms her other breast through the wet suit, grinning when he finds a hard peak.
As if she can sense the smug feeling ballooning in his chest, Winnie snakes a hand between them before he can stop her, slipping it beneath his waistband.
Suddenly he’s the one seeing stars as her fingers wrap around him.
When she moves, he tears his face away with a harsh, “Fuck!”
Our first time cannot be a quickie behind a waterfall with cameras rolling.
It can’t be.
Can it?
He’ll admit, in all those years of letting his imagination run wild, he never once thought of this. But they’ve waited so long. And she’s so beautiful. He might literally be on fire he’s burning so hot. And if her slick fingers glide against him like that one more time, he just might—
No!
Tyler forces his head back even as his grip digs deeper, mind and body at war.
What am I doing? I can wait a few hours. I’m not a damn animal.
But then Winnie does that thing with her fingers again, and his knees go weak. He knows that if he doesn’t stop it right this second, there’s not a shot in hell he ever will.
And he owes her more than this.
He wants to take his time.
He wants to worship her.
“We can’t do this here,” he murmurs into her neck.
She tightens her grip. “Why not?”
Christ. Her brother was right. He is a saint. “Because I want to do this the right way.”
“Feels pretty right to me.”
He drops his head to her shoulder with a strained laugh, entirely at her mercy. “Win. I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”
“Well, who the hell said I wanted that?”
He groans against her skin. She’s playing with fire, and he’s not sure she knows it. Because the cameras are the only thing keeping him in line, and once they’re gone, he’ll be more than happy to show her every ungentlemanly thought running through his mind.
Just as he’s teetering on the edge of giving in, the haze of her lust clears.
“Oh, shit. You’re right.” She releases a heavy sigh, extracting her hand as she drops her head back against the rocks, panting.
“We can’t do this here. Cameras. Microphones.
People. God, what was I thinking?” She slaps him lightly on the biceps.
“This is all your fault. You drive me crazy. You can’t just pick me up and carry me around and walk me under waterfalls like it’s no big deal with all your bulging muscles and your piercing blue eyes and your brooding stares, and, oh god, your hands, and expect me to think straight.
” She glances around as if looking for her lost sense.
“My boob is still out! Why didn’t you say my boob was still out? !”
He shrugs with a devilish smirk. “I’m enjoying the view.”
“Ty!” she admonishes him and spares a moment to rearrange herself.
The second she’s covered back up, he wraps his arms around her midsection and falls back, dragging her with him.
The pressure of the fall pushes them beneath the water.
She comes up sputtering. A calculating gleam lights her gaze.
He lifts his arm just in the nick of time as a wave of water shoots toward him.
It’s the exact distraction they both need to cool down. But even after an epic splash war, towels, and a picnic on the shore, he’s still buzzing.
So is she.