Out of the corner of his eye, Michael saw Amanda approaching. Her presence was the only thing that saved the guy. He wouldn’t deck an injured man, at least not in front of his girlfriend, but he couldn’t let his comments stand either.
“Shut up, Ethan,” he said, wrecking whatever was left of his relationship with his client. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The other man reeled back, clearly shocked, but before he could respond, Becca came flying in between the two of them.
“I don’t need you to defend me,” Becca screeched at him. “Not when you’re working against me when we’re supposed to be working together.”
All the team members had stopped what they were doing and moved in close enough to get a front row seat for the craziness. At least one thing worked in his favor. Amanda and Gabe stood side by side, but instead of directing their focus at him, Ethan seemed to be getting all of their attention. For the moment at least, he didn’t have to deal with Amanda’s brother being mad at him too.
“I can’t do this anymore. I want things to go back to the way they were.” Becca blinked against the tears filling her eyes and for just a moment he thought there might be something else hiding in her expression.
It also hadn’t passed his notice that her brother and sister, although clearly ready to defend her against Ethan, weren’t rushing to console her. There was something going on. Something only the Southerlands recognized and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like it.
“I’ll partner with Michael. You go back to Ben.” Amanda stepped forward, looking like she’d volunteered for a root canal without anesthesia.
He was pretty sure he ought to be offended but he couldn’t get it together fast enough. As soon as the words left her sister’s mouth, Becca’s mood shifted as if someone had flipped a switch.
“That sounds good,” said Ethan, looking as confused as Michael felt.
“We still have some time left before we have to get off the course,” said Michael, trying desperately to get control of his team. “Why don’t we go back and start from the beginning so we can get in at least one good run-through?”
The rest of the team nodded and started to move toward the starting line. Becca held back and he saw her glance around to see if anyone was watching them before she spoke.
“And that’s how it’s done,” she said, giving him a swift sharp smack on the butt. He narrowly managed to avoid letting out an un-masculine yelp, but when he glanced up again, he saw Amanda watching him and rolling her eyes.
AMANDA STILL COULDN’T BELIEVE SHE’D let her sister use her crocodile tears to manipulate her into partnering with Michael. The whole meltdown had been a joke. Becca would never cry over a guy. Honestly, almost the only time her sister ever cried was when the tears suited her purpose. She sure as hell wouldn’t cry because Michael or any other man hurt her feelings. But she was also stubborn to a fault and if Amanda hadn’t stepped up, she would have kept going until Ethan either tried to kick her off the team or did something else she’d find equally objectionable.
She couldn’t afford any other reasons to be on the outs with Ethan. She was having a hard time remembering the charm and competence that drew her to him in the first place. His climbing stunt exhausted the last of her patience.
For his part, Michael had been an almost perfect partner. If he had an ego, he didn’t let it get in the way. He kept a low profile and seemed to instinctively know how to make things easier for her. It was really starting to wear on her nerves. It was bad enough that she had to be so close to him. That she had to touch him even casually pushed the limits of her restraint. The whole thing would be a lot easier if he’d act like a jerk so she could hate him with a clear conscience.
She’d spent the past two hours breathing in the citrus scent of his aftershave and the clean smell of man. She’d held his hands while they’d helped each other over the wall and rested her hands on his broad shoulders as they crossed the Stepping Bridge. He was everywhere she looked; she couldn’t get away from him. Not that she was supposed to; he was her partner. They were supposed to work together, not run away from each other.If only he wasn’t so damn distracting.
At least they were almost finished. She decided to deliberately ignore for the time being that they’d be working together for the next month and concentrate on getting through the last fifteen minutes of the day’s competition. The only event they had left was the tug-of-war against the Main Street ad agency. Get through that and she’d be in a Michael-free zone for the rest of the weekend. Maybe she could do something crazy, like bake something. Despite his normal penchant for bossiness, Ethan had been surprisingly decent during the competition, and she could tell his leg was bothering him. Maybe she could bake him cookies. Indulge in something domestic to remind her why she’d fallen for Ethan in the first place and get the irritating gym owner out of her system for a couple of days.
She stepped up to the rope, heading toward the scarf at the center of the rope and away from Michael’s position as anchor. Easy peasy. A couple of minutes of tugging on the huge, scratchy rope and she’d be free from her infuriating partner for the rest of the weekend.
“That’s not going to work, ladies and gentlemen,” said a smug-sounding referee. “This is a boy-girl, boy-girl event. Pick your anchor, by all means, but partners must stay together.”
There was a fair bit of grumbling from both sides, but within a couple of minutes the teams had rearranged themselves. Amanda didn’t have a choice but to pick up the section of rope in front of Michael. Gabe stood in front of her, and she scooched up the rope as far as she could, positioning herself away from Michael and closer to her brother. Not that it was likely to help her when the contest started, but it gave her the momentary illusion of being in control.
“You miss me that much?” asked Gabe, glancing back over his shoulder. “You’re a bit close.”
“Shut up,” she said, smacking his shoulder.
She wasn’t about to let her pain-in-the-butt brother complicate her already complicated situation. He simply shot her a cocky grin and tightened his grip on the rope. Amanda wrapped her hands around the rope, grateful again for the fingerless gloves that had helped protect her fingers all day. Without them, she’d have gotten her fair share of splinters and rope burn.
“Are you ready, Main Street?” called the referee and the opposing team whooped and hollered, sending a pulse through the rope with their hands.
“Bransford, are you ready?”
Amanda and the rest of the team cheered and yelled. She heard Michael’s deep voice behind her, a reminder of his presence at her back. She could see Ethan, sitting on the edge of his chair on the sideline, using his crutches to help prop himself up. She smiled at him, but he wasn’t looking in her direction. His attention stayed focused on Peter and his wife.
The referee raised his arm in the air and called outReady, Set, and sliced his arm down on the wordGo. Amanda pulled and for a split second nothing happened; then it was as if the opposing forces lined up and she felt the rope jerk toward the other team.
“Hold on,” came Michael’s command from behind her. “Pull!”
She couldn’t be sure whether it was his words or the force of his voice, but something about Michael energized the team and they started to pull in earnest. The rope barely moved at first but after a few seconds with Michael yelling his encouragement, the scarf in the center of the rope started to inch toward the Bransford side.
