The Consequence of Revenge (Consequence 2)

“Does that count?” I whispered under my breath once he’d walked off with the girl.

“Sure does.” The producer stayed behind and wrote something down on a piece of paper. “The rules were vague. They said get the Bachelor to kiss you and you stay.”

“But . . .” I touched my lips; they buzzed with excitement. If Max knew that . . . why hadn’t he just kissed my hand? Or maybe he wasn’t aware of the rules at all?

“Hey, Little B, you coming?” Max called behind him and held out his hand.

I ran up to join him but didn’t take his hand. “Little B?”

“Yeah, because you have little—”

My eyes narrowed.

“Hold that thought.” He held up his hand and jogged over to the chairs on the beach where around five girls, the shy ones, were lying down. With speed and precision he lifted each one’s hat and/or sunglasses and placed a kiss across her temple.

“Six.” I applauded when he made his way back to me.

“Seven.” His brow furrowed. “You have trouble counting like the drunk one, or are you just checking my math?”

“Sorry.” I felt my face heat.

“Whoa!” Max laughed. “And an apology?”

I glared.

“Hold that thought too.” He jogged off to another section where some girls were congregating and went down on one knee, pulling their hands to his lips.

I waited.

And smiled.

And tried desperately not to be charmed that he was not only making each and every one of the girls feel kind of special and silly at the same time, but that he wasn’t making it a big deal. It wasn’t about him, and the thing about the show? It was always about the guy. Even with the money on the line it was always about the guy and how hot he was and how impressive.

With Max, it was almost like he hated the attention. But didn’t all good-looking guys like attention? He was a conundrum; on one hand he seemed to be the biggest player on the planet.

But if he were . . . he would have been kissing all of the girls—with tongue.

Rather than going down on bended knee in the sand and taking their hands in his, kissing their knuckles and making them feel . . . like that kiss was better than one on the lips.

I got tired waiting for him, plus he looked like he was having a good time, so I went toward the ocean and dipped my feet in.

“Happy to see the shark phobia doesn’t affect you on the shore,” Max said smoothly from behind.

“Don’t you have girls to kiss?” I asked without turning around.

“I need five more.” Max walked up beside me. “Help me make my choices?”

“You want me to help you pick out the next five?”

“Yup. Who do you want to keep?”

Before I could answer, a camera crew came walking in our direction. I tucked the hair behind my ear and pointed so he would know.

“I’ve got this . . .” Max winked and then I was in the air, slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

He ran straight for the water. With all of his clothes on.

I’d had time to change into a bathing suit underneath my white cover-up. Max, however, was in low-slung jeans and a T-shirt.

But it didn’t deter him from going all the way under and taking me with him. I gasped as the water hit my head. Max’s body pushed me farther under, and then he lifted me up just as I was ready to gasp for air.

“What the hell!” I smacked his shoulder.

“You’re welcome.” He grinned, water dripping from his hair onto his face.

“For almost drowning me?”

“Hey, is that any way to thank me for saving your life?”

“How do you figure?” I splashed water at him. We were a good distance from the shore but I could still stand. The camera crew, however, stayed put.

“We were about to get discovered by the producers. On top of that, I still need your help and I totally saw a shark about two seconds ago, punched it in the nose, and demanded it leave. See? Saved your life!”

“Shark?” I repeated, looking frantically around the clear blue water. “Shark?”

“Aw, Little B—”

I launched myself into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. If I was getting eaten, so was he.

Clawing at his chest, I shuddered as the thought of a shark touching me finally became my reality. I was going to die!

Max cleared his throat. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Taking you with me.” I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Where we goin’?”

“Hell! Because we’re going to get eaten and we went on a reality show and everyone knows reality shows are like a free ticket to hell! They’re awful and I’M SORRY I WANTED THE MONEY! You hear me, God? I’M SORRY! BUT I NEED TO FINISH SCHOOL AND I—”

Cold water hit my face, making me choke. Did that bastard just dunk me? I clawed to the surface and then felt Max’s warmth as he pulled me into his arms again. “We done freaking out yet?”

“You son of a—”

Cold water again. Damn, he was strong.

When he lifted me up the second time, I was so pissed my arms and legs went flailing in all directions.

“No sharks,” Max said calmly. “Joke, I was joking. Wow, you really must be terrified of them.”

“I’m going to name a goat Max, then sacrifice it so its spirit haunts you for the rest of your life.”

Max froze. “I will freaking buy an aquarium and name every damn shark after you, then train them to roar whenever they see your picture.”