Chapter Seventeen
Harper was used to time flying. She was also used to it moving incredibly slowly.
It usually depended on whether she was waiting sixteen hours for a snow leopard to emerge from a Himalayan outcrop or sprinting across an Angolan floodplain chasing the last sliver of the golden hour.
But the last five days since Elise had fully recovered from her seasick haze had disappeared in a blur so fast that she could hardly believe it.
Most days started off slow: Harper waking up beside Elise in her bed, their limbs like pretzels. Morning coffee in the kitchen followed by Elise usually kicking Harper out to get ready.
After that, the dates took up most of the day.
A group date in Positano town where Harper had to follow the contestants on a Mediterranean market challenge.
Thank goodness Megan had gotten over her little panic about sending Nadia home.
Then there was the one-on-one date at Arienzo Beach Club, which was reached by a small shuttle boat.
This was where Jamie had kissed Megan. And yes, Harper had managed to get the rest of the contestants’ shocked faces on film when they’d learned about that kiss.
The day after that had been a pottery date for Tori and Megan in Positano.
And the day after that had been Amelia’s turn to join Megan on a sunrise hike along the Path of the Gods.
The rose ceremonies weren’t any more relaxed.
Harper had gotten a close-up of Jasmine’s tear-streaked cheeks as she climbed, rose-less, into the limo.
Two nights later she’d captured the sheer shock of it when not just Kira but Eve as well had been sent home.
Although, according to Elise, it shouldn’t have surprised anyone, considering it was a season tradition to double-eliminate at least once.
Not that Harper had felt much sympathy for any of the contestants.
She’d been too busy coming up with ways to spend time with Elise.
An early evening stroll through the lemon grove behind the villa, fingers interlaced, the air thick with delicious citrus.
A bottle of wine on Elise’s tiny terrace the night after the rose ceremony, both barefoot, both pleasantly blurry around the edges as they sifted through their Namibia memories.
After that, they’d fallen into bed together, naked, making slow, sweet love to each other.
And last night, after Elise had sorted out some production logistics that went over Harper’s head, they’d sat on the short stone wall beside a cluster of thyme and rosemary and talked about everything and nothing.
Harper didn’t even care that Elise was still jumping every time someone showed up unexpectedly or snatched her hand away like Harper’s skin was made of an open flame whenever an assistant or Gillian or Monica walked past. She told herself it was perfectly normal for a woman who hadn’t publicly come out yet to do just that. Panic.
Except Harper was beginning to wonder if Elise was ever going to admit to herself that she was a lesbian or if she’d just keep dodging it. If someone asked, would she say, ‘No, I don’t like women actually, just Harper. She’s the exception.’
Which was fine. Perfectly fine. Why wouldn’t it be? Everyone had their own process, and it would be grossly unfair for Harper to intervene.
So she pushed down that thought and looked down at the waves crashing gently against the shore and frothing around her feet.
Fornillo Beach was a short strip of smooth pebbles and pale sand, flanked by two ancient watchtowers standing like sleepy guards.
The water was impossibly clear, and bright red and burnt orange umbrellas lined the curve of the shoreline.
“When you said we were going for a walk on the beach, I thought you were joking,” Elise said, kicking up a spray of seawater with her foot.
“I never joke about beach walks,” Harper replied, her face completely deadpan. “In fact, I take them very seriously.”
Elise laughed and bumped her shoulder against Harper’s, which actually knocked her off center. Her heel slid over a dip in the stones, and the next moment a wave rushed in, soaking her up to mid-calf. Served her right for wearing jeans on the beach.
Elise’s face immediately bloomed with an apology.
“Sorry,” she said. “I guess I don’t know my own strength.
” She looked down at her arms as if they’d done the impossible.
“I’m like a Great Dane. My sister has one, and he’s constantly knocking over everything.
His tail is like a whip. The other day she showed me a video of him walking right over Isabella like she was a Lego. ”
Harper couldn’t keep the grin off her face. Partly because she knew Isabella was Elise’s three-year-old niece, which she only knew because Elise had told her all about her mad family over the last few days, and also because Elise’s perception of herself was adorable.
A Great Dane. Ha.
“You know you’re more like a Chihuahua, right?
” Harper said, catching sight of the hairiest man she’d ever seen trying to apply sun lotion to his own shoulder.
“I firmly believe everyone has a canine equivalent. Like that man over there.” She tilted her head toward where the hairy guy was sitting on the edge of a lounger beneath a burnt-orange umbrella.
“He’s undoubtedly a Bernese Mountain dog.
” Then, she glanced toward a woman with fuzzy blonde hair sticking up wildly.
“And the lady beside him looks like a Poodle.”
Elise frowned and turned back to Harper. “Well, you’re a…” She stopped speaking and started thinking. Harper gave her a few more seconds because, seriously, how hard could it be for Elise to call it what it was? Harper was no doubt an Australian Shepherd. But then Elise said, “Pug.”
“A what?” Harper spluttered, feeling extremely offended. “You can’t be serious.”
“You called me a Chihuahua,” Elise shot back.
“Because you’re small, Elise,” Harper blurted, throwing her arms out, wondering why she was bothered by the label. But a pug? What good had a pug ever done? Surely not scale Mt. Everest. Most definitely not kayak through the fjords of Norway. “Why on earth would you think I’m a pug?”
“Because you’re very cute,” Elise said, smiling. “And full of energy. Pugs basically vibrate with all that energy.” Her smile turned into a toothy grin, and her eyes sparkled in the sun.
How could Harper stay mad at that face? She couldn’t. It was impossible. Harper wrapped an arm around Elise’s waist and kissed her shoulder.
“For future reference,” she said. “I’m an Australian Shepherd.”
Elise laughed. Harper did too. Then they walked the rest of the strip in silence.
Harper hoped that the next time they talked, the conversation would shift to more serious things, like what the hell they were actually doing.
Or what was going to happen once the season was over?
Would Harper move to Los Angeles? Would she move in with Elise or get her own place?
Would they make the drive to Santa Monica Pier and rent bikes for the morning?
Or would they swing by the farmer’s market for fresh bread and figs, or spend the afternoon wandering the murals in the Arts District, or lounge on a blanket at Elysian Park?
Or would they escape for a weekend to Joshua Tree or hike up Runyon Canyon?
Or would the season end and everything else too?
They reached the end of the beach. Elise touched her fingertips to the rock before turning around.
Harper did the same. They were still walking in silence.
Only when they reached the hairy man and fuzzy blonde lady did Elise clear her throat.
“We’re doing a U-Haul compatibility test for the next group date,” she said, staring ahead.
“I’m not even sure what that means,” Harper said truthfully. Wasn’t U-Haul an American moving company? What did that have to do with compatibility?
“It’s a test,” Elise explained. “Well, two tests in one. First, the contestants answer a series of questions designed to see how compatible they are with Megan. Then the three contestants who score the highest get to do the U-Haul portion with her. You know, loading moving boxes and furniture into a packing truck, all while racing against the clock. The couple with the fastest time gets the one-on-one date.”
“Oh,” Harper said. Whoever came up with these challenges should either be commended or deserves to be fired. She wasn’t sure which.
“Do you think we’re compatible?” Elise asked, though it was crystal clear she’d already asked herself the same question and couldn’t decide if the answer was yes or no.
But Harper knew the answer. “Yes,” she said confidently. “I think we are.”
Elise didn’t speak for a while. At least not for a minute. “Will you do the compatibility test with me?” she finally asked, glancing at Harper with a completely unreadable expression on her lovely face.
Harper was a little taken aback, but not shaken.
Or maybe she was just a little. “Sure,” she said, though she didn’t mean it.
Frankly, she’d rather wade into the water fully clothed than answer a bunch of questions.
Especially since she had a sinking feeling that Elise wanted to base their entire relationship on a silly little test. “When do you want to do it?”
“Now,” Elise said, pulling her phone out of her back pocket. “We can sit over there.” She pointed to a stretch of beach with more sand than pebbles. Harper lowered herself first and smiled when Elise cuddled up beside her.
Elise swiped quickly across the phone screen and cleared her throat. “It’s only twenty-five questions.”