Walk of Shame (34 page)

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Authors: O. L. Gregory

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"Oh?"

"Yeah. Chloe stopped me from
taking you to do something that you wouldn't enjoy."

"Oh. You didn't have to
cancel plans. I'd have-"

"Don't worry about it. We're
still going to be doing the same thing," he pointed over to the parking
area. "We're just going to be using a different mode of
transportation."

I looked over to see a group of
four-wheelers sitting along the edge of the parking area. "What were you
originally planning?"

"Dirt bikes."

I wrinkled my face.

"That's pretty much what
Chloe said I could expect when I asked her if you knew how to drive one. She
said that you could, and that you like motorcycle riding, but you don't like having
only two wheels under you off-road."

"It's just that with dirt
bikes, you have to watch your every move along the path. I like actually
looking up at the scenery around me."

"I know, she told me, I get
it."

"I can do the dirt bike
thing, if you want. I just don't enjoy it as much."

"Stop. I want us both to
enjoy this. Besides, the four-wheelers are already here."

I smiled as we headed off to the
machines, the camera crew pulling up the rear. We started out of the parking
lot and made our way over to a trail. Slowly, the road wound around the park
and then we began climbing in altitude. And the higher we got, the better the
view became. It was a windy path, full of switchbacks up the slope of the
mountain. We crested the top to find a picnic area that the park had set up for
its guests.

"This is awesome," I
declared after I got off the machine and took a few minutes to enjoy the land
laid out below.

"Gorgeous, right?" Mike
asked.

"Absolutely."

He opened a bag that had been
strapped to the back of his seat. "I brought dinner up with us.
Hungry?"

"Sure. I couldn't think of a
more beautiful place to enjoy a meal."

We ate, laughed, and he spent
many minutes pointing out that we could see not only the lake from here, but
other mountains and valleys, as well as the river that feeds the lake.

"Are you really that in love
with this spot?" I asked.

"I'm that in love with
you."

My breath caught, my eyes
rounded, and the smile drifted off my face as what he'd said settled between
us.

His eyes watched me, searching my
face for a reaction.

I'd seen this happen season after
season on television. Multiple people professing to be in love with the same
person. I'd been reminded that this would happen. But none of that had prepared
me to hear the words from any of them. How could they be in love with me,
really in love, when I was still dating so many other guys? But, if truth be
told, I got it now. It happened the same way that it had happened when I first
started to feel like I had the beginnings of falling for so many of them.

"I, I... I can't respond to
that," I told him. "I want to, I really do. But I can't."

He nodded and his eyes settled on
my mouth. "You have to think of the show's integrity," he whispered
so low that I doubted the microphones could have picked up what he said.
"I understand," he said a little louder and pulled me to him for a
kiss.

When he pulled away, he turned to
look back down at the trail. "I'm pointing out the scenery because I built
this."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I hiked all over
this mountain, I flew overhead and plotted it out. My guys and I staked and
laid out the trail, then we cleared the path."

"It's a state park," I
stammered.

He shrugged. "Sometimes my
team is used outside the NPS."

I looked back down at the trail and
smiled. "You built this?"

"I built this."

"And staff will maintain the
trail and all kinds of people will make their way up here and see this view
from this spot, because you found the spot and figured out how to get them up
here. You changed the way the land is used and appreciated. And this will be
here for who knows how long."

"Yep."

I turned to look at him. "I
am thoroughly in love with your job."

He grinned and kissed me again.

I'm sure production would be
pleased with the shot Mike had created for the camera crew. You know, that
beauty shot of the couple kissing on the mountaintop. The whole reason I was
sure of this was because as Mike and I were kissing, I could hear the cameraman
making as wide a circle around us as he could, moving around to capture the
shot from all angles. I wouldn't be surprised if they made a call and a
helicopter came over for a flyby of another kiss before we packed up the food
and trash to take back down the mountain.

When we did get back to camp, I
collapsed into a chair set by the fire that Phillip was starting.

"Did you have a fun day, princess?"
Troy asked as he walked across the clearing.

"I did, actually," I
answered.

"Good, now come talk to me
about it."

"No. Hell, no. I'm done, I'm
beat."

"We need to interview,"
he said in all seriousness.

"And we will. Catch me in
the morning. My brain is shot right now, I'm tired."

"You have plans in the
morning."

"Catch me before my
plans."

"Your plans begin at dawn,
pre-dawn actually."

"The hell they do."

The guys all chuckled.

"Sorry to inform you. Come
on, it's still early. The sun is just going down. We can do the interviews and
you'll still have time to come out here and party."

"Troy, doing interviews with
you means another shower, another hair and makeup session, and a pretty, little
summer dress. I don't have all that in me right now, I'm sorry."

"The MA can brush out your
hair and do a quick braid and then freshen up your makeup. We'll only shoot you
from the head up. Ten questions and you're out of there. I promise to only have
you gone for a half hour."

"Ugh," I groaned and
lifted myself out of the chair.

I was back thirty-seven minutes
later, to find Chloe leaning over a pot that sat on a rack over the fire.

"Amaretto and coke?"
Phillip asked.

"No," Stephen said.
"She's had a Long Island iced tea kind of day."

I opened my mouth to answer them,
but Chloe shook her head at me. And then I watched her pour some spices into
the pot and stir them in. "I think I'm going to wait to see what Chloe's
heating up in that pot."

"Almost done," she
said.

"It's probably some fruity,
girly drink," Stephen said.

"Absolutely," Chloe
said as she started pouring the liquid from the pan into cups.

I reached over and took one,
smelling it. "Oh, you're a good little sister," I murmured before
drinking. "Yum."

"What is it?" Mike
asked, picking one up.

"It's basically hot apple
cider spiked with caramel vodka," I answered.

I drank and enjoyed the Montana
night. We got just tipsy enough to be that obnoxiously loud group that
everybody else hates to be stuck camping near. But, the park had tucked us back
in a corner so there was a pillow of space between us and other groups. Mainly
it was done so the filming of the show wouldn't interfere with the camping
experiences of anyone else. At the moment, we were using that to our advantage.

By ten-thirty, Chloe and I were
climbing the stairs into my fifth wheel. She and I had agreed earlier to not
stay out there so late that anybody started to get any stupid ideas that some
of us might regret in the morning. I stepped in after her and found her
standing there, slightly swaying, looking at the couch.

"You know," she said,
"we really should have opened up my bed before we started drinking."

I looked around her and made my
eyes settle and focus on the couch. "Huh. Why didn't we?"

"Because we're stupid."

"We could open it."

"Do you remember where the
lever is?"

"Um, no. There's a
lever?"

"Yes, there's a lever. It
takes me five minutes to find that lever when I'm sober," she said.

"Well, where was it last
night?"

"I slept in the bed last
night so that I'd know when you came home, except you didn't come home last
night so I never had to find the lever."

"So, sleep in my bed
tonight. It's big enough for both of us."

"Yeah, but what if one of
them sneaks in? And then it's both of us in there with him. I'm drunk, but I'm
not that drunk."

I laughed and turned around to
open the door and stuck my head outside. "Help! Drunk girls need help
finding a bed!"

Jared's head appeared in one of
his windows. "I've got one I can share."

That got me giggling.

Liam came through the darkness to
our aid. "What's up?" he asked in a slightly thicker than usual
accent as I backed up to let him in.

I pointed to the couch. "We
need some abracadabra kind of work."

"There's a lever and it
likes to hide," Chloe told him.

Liam knelt down and started
feeling around for a lever. He ran his hands inside folds and cracks and under
the couch and all around. "There is no lever."

"Oh, shit," Chloe said,
plopping down on a dinette seat. "You're too drunk to find it, too."

"I seriously don't remember
there being a lever," I said.

"Of course you don't. I'm
the one that has to open and close it, you don't sleep in the couch," she
said.

"Sometimes I open it up and use
it. I've opened it up a bunch of times. And I don't remember a lever," I
said.

Liam scrunched his eyebrows
together, stood up, grabbed the handle in the center of the bar at the front
edge of the couch and pulled it straight up. He stepped back and let it unfold
out, guiding the edge back down to the floor. "No lever, Chloe."

She frowned, "Oh."

He shook his head at her and
dropped a kiss down on my head as he passed by. "Goodnight," he
whispered.

I reached out, grabbed the sleeve
of his shirt to get him to turn back around, then grabbed the front of his
shirt, drew him down to me, and kissed him quite thoroughly. I pulled away and
whispered, "Goodnight."

He left with a grin. I shut the
door behind him, and then turned to a snickering Chloe. "You totally did
that on purpose! You knew there was no lever." I hissed at her.

"Yeah. I wanted to see which
one would come to help. And then I wanted to see if he was smart enough to
figure it out even while drunk."

"And?"

"Liam's a keeper."

"He wasn't really
drunk."

"How do you know?"

"Because you almost can't
understand him through his accent when he's drunk."

"So he can control his
drinking. That's really good. I still say he's a keeper."

We both flopped down on the spare
bed. "Okay, so Liam stays. Who needs to go?"

"I don't know. Let's just
work them through one at a time. Now up, I'm tired."

"Ugh. I'm comfy."

"Pre-dawn plans," she
taunted me.

I sighed.
"I'm going." I stood and drug myself into my room, leaving my door
open in my slightly drunken, 'I don't care' stupor. Pulling off my shorts and
shirt, I yanked back the covers, climbed into bed, and fell into the depths of
sleep.

Thursday

A body slid into the bed behind
me. A hand landed on my elbow. Lips began caressing my shoulder.

At first, I stiffened up at the
thought of some man just climbing into my bed.

Then whoever it was, drug his
lips from my shoulder to my neck and his hand slid to my upper arm.

My eyes opened to see that it was
still dark out. In my normal life, this would have been the point where I
sicced Goldie on whoever it was, before making a reach for my gun. My immediate
instinct being to force whomever the intruder was to leave. But this wasn't my
normal life, despite waking in my own bed as opposed to the cottage bed.

I let my body relax as I focused
on trying to figure out which one was behind me.

The lips moved to my earlobe and
a tongue traced along the edge.

I ruled out Stephen. For one, he
hadn't bonded with Goldie at all, so she wouldn't still be lying at my feet,
content to let him invade our space. Plus, well, the arm that just snaked its
way around me wasn't dark enough to be Stephen, or Phillip for that matter.

And the hair on the arm wasn't
red, so it couldn't be Liam.

I relaxed back against the
six-pack behind me and moaned as the tongue dipped into my ear. I let a leg
drift back to tangle with his and only found one. "Michael," I
whispered and turned in his arms.

The arm around me pulled me in
tighter. His other hand moved to my chin, angling my mouth to receive his kiss.

He rolled to his back and pulled
me on top of him, drawing my legs down on either side. I could feel that he was
rock hard, despite the separating layers of underwear and his denim shorts. I
couldn't help myself. I ground down on him.

He groaned and drew his hands up
my sides to dip his fingers under the bottom edge of my bra and caress up over
my nipples.

I circled my hips, he squeezed.

"Is this my pre-dawn
plan?" I asked before biting my lip to fight an urge to buck against him.

He sighed. "No." He
grunted and flipped me over onto my back, then moved to loom over me.

I'd squealed in surprise when my
back hit the mattress and Goldie lifted her head, letting out a soft
woof.

I was laughing when he lowered
himself to kiss me one last time before he left the bed. "Up," he
said as he bent to grab his artificial leg and put it back on.

"Why?" I whined.

"Because there's something
I'd like for you to see."

"Did you come bearing
caffeine?"

"I'll go get you some."

"Fine." I flipped the
covers off me and over Goldie. I stood up to go grab clothes out of my closet
but then when I moved, air drafted across my chest and I looked down. Then I
shot a look back at him, only to find him grinning. "When did you take my
bra off?"

He threw his head back and
laughed before turning to leave the bedroom.

He'd left the door open. Goldie
pawed her way out from under the blankets and followed him out.

"I'm already brewing
tea," Chloe called out.

"Okay," I called back,
now on a hunt for my bra.

Chloe appeared in my doorway.
"Em," she said in a reproving tone.

"Don't 'Em' me. There was no
sex. There's been no sex. I get no sex."

She giggled.

"Say the word and I'll
change that," Mike called out from my kitchen.

"What's he doing?" I
whispered.

"Texting on his phone."

I shook my head and found my bra.

"So, how often can I expect
to be woken up by knocking on your door, squealing, barking, and lost
bras?" she asked.

I grabbed a shirt and a pair of
shorts and shoved myself into them.

"Depends on how long you
stick around," I told her before brushing past her to get into my
bathroom.

Two cups of tea later and Mike
had me jogging across camp.

"I hope you drug me out of
bed so early for something really, really good," I said.

He chuckled. "Considering I
climbed out of your bed to come do this, I hope so, too."

He led me onto a hiking trail
and, before long, we slowed to a walk as the trail rose in elevation. Sweat was
rolling by the time we left the path, and I followed him to an overlook.

The sun was just beginning to
rise over the lake as I watched the rays of light play on the clouds as the
mist rose from the water. "Okay," I said. "This is
gorgeous."

"Worth it?" he asked.

"Worth it."

He put his arm around me and drew
me into his side to watch the show.

When we returned to camp, I
flopped my ass into a canvas chair.

Phillip smiled and fetched me a
plate full of the breakfast that catering was making for us today. He brought
it over to me with a bottle of water.

"Thank you," I said
with a grateful smile.

"Eat up, princess, you're
mine next."

I dropped my head back against
the chair and let it roll to the side. "I'm not going to survive this
week."

"You better hurry up and eat
if you want a shower."

"What are we going to
do?"

He sat down backwards on the
picnic table bench a few feet away from me. "I got a call yesterday from
my boss, asking me if I was part of the show that rolled into the park the day
before. When I told him yes, he asked if I'd take care of some tagging while I
was here. I figured you could come along."

"Tagging?"

"We're going to put a few
radio collars on some animals."

"Yeah, um, sure. Let's go
tagging." I shoved breakfast down my throat, showered, did the whole MA
thing, and dressed in a scary camo outfit.

When I got back outside, Phillip
was talking to a park ranger who'd brought a park vehicle and the necessary
equipment with him. He would be riding along with us and serving as Phillip's
official partner.

I overheard some of the
conversations that the ranger was having with production about the coordination
of filming with the very real job we were all about to tag-along on. And the
more they talked, the more I was convinced that production initially approached
Fish and Wildlife about having Phillip do this, and not the other way around.

The ranger, Phillip, and I got
into the park vehicle and took off with a camera crew following behind in a
second park ranger's vehicle. The second ranger had shown up once the first
ranger realized that someone would need to keep the crew in line while he
focused on assisting Phillip.

We stopped the vehicles along the
road when we got near to where the last recent sighting was. The ranger and
Phillip started strapping on gear. And then they picked up rifles.

"Are you any good with a
gun?" Phillip asked.

"Yeah. I'm more familiar
with handguns, though."

"But you've shot rifles?"

"Yeah. My dad made me learn
how to handle guns, and then made me go hunting and make an animal kill, before
he'd give me his blessing to live on the road. He said I had to be prepared for
both human and nonhuman predators."

He gave me a nod. "All
right, then." He handed me two rifles with straps. "Put the one with
the red tape around yourself first.

I handed the blue taped one back
to him to hold while I checked the red one's safety and ammo quickly before putting
the strap around me.

"The red one is filled with
bullets. It's plan B. You only use it if the bear is charging you directly. Otherwise,"
he said, handing me the second rifle again, "use the blue rifle. It shots
tranquilizers."

I took the weapon and checked its
setup quickly. "Why are we gearing me up?"

"Because you never know
what's going to happen when working with wild animals. We like to be prepared.
Look over at the other ranger. He's strapping on two rifles as well, in case
the animal heads for their group. But it's our job to bring it down first and
keep the animal contained."

"Okay."

The ranger took us through the
woods, to the spot of the last sighting, and then he and Phillip tracked the
animal from there. I saw the size of the prints. This thing was no small, furry,
woodland creature.

Phillip and the ranger started
signaling back and forth to each other, obviously having spotted the animal and
not wanting to tip it off to our presence. Phillip held out his hand, curling
and uncurling his fingers for me to come to him. As silently as I could, I made
my way over.

He lined me up in front of him
and he walked me into the position he wanted me in. Then he stood behind me,
just to my right, so he could whisper into my ear.

"What. The. Hell. Is that
thing?" I whispered.

"A bear," he whispered
back.

"It's a freaking big
bear."

"It's a grizzly."

I turned to look at him.

He put a hand on top of my head
and turned it back. "You never take your eye off the animal. He wondered
into the park a few weeks ago. They want him collared so they can track him and
make sure he doesn't become a nuisance."

"Okay."

"All right. Now, get your
blue gun, line up your shot, and take it."

"You've got to be freaking
kidding me."

"I'm going to stay right
beside you and line up a shot, too. If you miss, I'll shoot him with a tranquilizer."

"Are you serious?"

"If you can't do it..."

Son of a bitch,
I thought
with an agitated sigh. I pulled the gun off myself, slowly, and lifted it to
line up the shot.  I waited until Phillip had his shot lined up and I wondered
how many of the others had figured out that I had a hard time backing down from
a challenge.

"Go ahead," he
whispered.

I braced myself for the kickback
and fired.

Have you ever watched a grizzly
realize it's been shot and get mad about it? The roar was enough to make me pee
my pants a little. Seriously. He sank to the ground and I about sank to my
knees.

I'm game to participate in a lot
of things, but I was good living life without this being a part of this.

Phillip gathered me to him in a
one-armed hug and kissed my cheek before he and the ranger sprang into action.
They approached the bear to get him equipped with a collar and give him a quick
exam to make sure he was relatively healthy.

"Come over here,"
Phillip called out.

It was a series of tentative
steps that carried me over to them.

"Pet him," Phillip
said.

I just looked at him, stupefied.

"When will you ever again
get the chance to be this up close and personal with a grizzly?"

I gave him a weak smile and
placed a hand on the bear's head.

Once they had their tasks done,
we all found spots to sit and watch the bear from a distance, to wait and make
sure he woke up all right.

"So, what do you
think?" Phillip asked.

"You know, you're so quiet.
You're the quietest out of all the guys. And you play your cards very close to
the vest. But then you come out here, strap on guns and shoot grizzlies, and
you're perfectly fine going right up to him and start working around his big head.
You're quite the paradox."

He chuckled. "Not your cup
of tea?"

"I think with practice I
could manage to not get so freaked out by it, but I'm in no way thinking about
changing careers. I'll be quite happy to let you handle the shooting and
tagging. But the following behind sounds pretty cool."

He smiled and gave me a squeeze.

"I can't believe you do this
for a living."

"I don't
do a lot of this. I'm telling you, most of my job is computer and
paperwork."

The moment we stepped foot back
in camp, Stephen opened his door, stuck his head out, and whistled for me to
come over.

"You mean to tell me that
you're finally going to get around to doing something with me?" I teased.

"Go grab your laptop,"
he said.

I nodded and headed for my rig. I
went in and grabbed my computer and a soda on my way between rigs, and stepped
up inside Stephen's travel trailer.

The interior was all neutral wall
coverings and wood trim, but with vividly colored accents.

"What are we doing?" I
asked.

"Well, I figure you've been
outside for the last forty-eight hours, except for a few hours of sleep. You
must be ready to get out of the sun."

"What? You're not jumping on
the 'let's show the little lady what I do for a living, for real'
bandwagon?"

"I've already taken you
traipsing through the woods to take pictures. I could take you back up in a chopper
to get aerial photos, but I think you get the idea."

"I do."

"Good. So I thought, since
I'm ahead of the game, that I'd show you everyday life with me."

I smiled. I was constantly
underestimating him. Here I thought that he was lagging behind, again, in
spending time with me. But the whole time, he was letting the others play catch
up, all the while planning his next move.

"Okay. So, what do we
do?"

"We're going to work in
here."

I laughed. "You're
serious?"

"Sure. Pick a spot, pull up
a draft or outline, and have at it. I'm going to take up residence in my chair
and bring up video clips so I can record and add voiced narrations. We'll see
if we can get the work done without driving each other nuts."

It was an intriguing idea.
"Is your couch comfy?"

"Very. Give it a try."

We spent the entire afternoon and
early evening working. And I didn't work on articles or blog posts, I worked on
outlining more on that novel idea I'd had a few weeks prior. Ideas for that
story had been marinating in my mind and it felt good to get it all down on
virtual paper.

The camera crewmembers were bored
out of their skulls, waiting for us to do something worthy of their being there
with cameras rolling.

When he started recording his
voice work, I took a moment just to watch him. It was then that I decided I
liked the timbre of his voice and the way he was careful to enunciate each word,
without sounding like a robot. He could inject a touch of humor or excitement
into his voice just enough to make the information sound interesting. "You
should record books," I told him.

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