Huh. I do some quick mental configurations. I can work with that.
With that settled, what Ishouldbe doing while I wait my turn to go is take the opportunity to surreptitiously study Harmony Miller, my target. I should be watching the way she responds to the other men who do their meet-cutes before me so I can tailor my approach and make myself as appealing to her as possible. And I do. Mostly.
But my eyes keep wandering over to the side of the road where the production crew is watching the filming. I could pretend I don’t know who I’m looking for, but I do.
It takes me a few tries to find Nina, likely because she’s so small and unassuming. Everything about her, from the lack of makeup to the muted colors to the high-buttoned cardigans and ankle-length skirts, seems designed to keep people from noticing her, but it’s always done the opposite for me. Anyone who has to try that hard to dim the way they naturally shine must be pretty spectacular. I wondered when I first knew her, and I still wonder now, who convinced her she had to fight so hard to stay hidden.
As if she can feel my gaze on her, Nina looks up. Our eyes meet across the sea of bodies. The world around me quiets, stills, and something in me centers and realigns.
Dammit. Goddammit.Not again. Not now. But if I’m being honest with myself, I’ve never really forgotten her. If I’m being honest with myself, she’s the face I always draw, the heroine of every book I read.
“Nate R.,” one of the producers calls. “You’re up.”
With Herculean effort, I wrench my gaze away from Nina, giving myself a shake as I rise to my feet and cross the truck bed. The other men still waiting their turn pat me as I go by. “Good luck, man!” a few murmur.
I force myself to smile broadly. Time to be Nate R. Charming, unflappable, carefree Nate R.
Easier said than done, with hot, bright lights blazing down on me, camerastracking my every move, and four women watching me critically as I approach, not to mention the audience of about a hundred crew members.
“Ladies,” I call in greeting to the Mountainettes, in a voice that only vaguely sounds like my own. “I’m Nate from Tennessee, and I’m so excited to have y’all here in my home. Welcome to the Agriculture and Commerce State!” Really wish you had a better state motto, Tennessee, but we play the cards we’re dealt. “By the way, you’re all looking beautiful tonight. I love the flannel, love the boots. In fact, would each of you be willing to loan me one of your boots?”
The Mountainettes look at each other in surprise. A couple of them giggle. I make meaningful eye contact with Harmony Miller and let my smile widen a bit, as if I really, really like what I see. “I promise I’ll take good care of them.”
Harmony looks intrigued, which is a good sign. I will myself to focus all my energy into that, into her.
After a moment’s hesitation, she peels off one of her bright pink boots and hands it over to me. From each of the other contestants, I get yellow, green, and blue boots, too. I gather the shoes, then step back into place. “Thanks so much. You see”—I hold the four boots pressed together in my hands, testing out their weight—“I’m here for love. And I know it’s a bit of a gamble, going on a dating show and competing with a bunch of other men. How can you find love, real, lasting love, when you’re juggling a bunch of relationships?”
I toss the first boot up into the air, then quickly follow with the other three, falling into an easy rhythm of juggling all four together. Some of the women let out appreciative cries at the spectacle. I can’t tell if Harmony is one of them, but I hone my focus toward her, even as I keep my eyes on the shoes. “I know there are a lot of us men to choose from tonight, and I’m sure all of us are a great catch.” I catch the pink boot first, quickly tucking it underneath my arm before catching the others in turn. “But at the end of the day, we’re all looking for one person to love.” I hand the blue boot to its owner, the green, then the yellow, before turning, finally to Harmony. “And if the shoe fits ...”
I hold her gaze meaningfully as I move to hand back her pink boot, just like I did with the three others. Her lips twitch with a smile, clearly pleased at the attention. But before she can take the boot back from me, I drop dramatically down to my knees, holding the boot for her so she can slip it back on, Cinderella–style. “Milady.”
Morrie’s probably going to give me shit for the “milady,” since that definitely reads more as Wes than Nate R., but old habits die hard. Harmony looks deeply flattered to have been singled out, so who cares if some of my nerdiness trickled through?
As I’m ushered off by one of the producers, I look back over my shoulder to give Harmony a wink. She smiles and the other girls nudge her, clearly catching on that I’ve singled her out. Maybe it would be smarter to ingratiate myself to the other Mountainettes, too, but with all the other male contestants looking like a mix of Ajax and the Rock, I want to stake my claim on Harmony and go in guns a-blazing. I don’t have the luxury of being timid or wishy-washy, not if I want a shot at getting close to Harmony so I can, by extension, get close to Aaron Miller.
The moment I’m off camera and away from the lights, I cast my gaze back at the production crew, trying to find Nina. With a sinking heart, I realize she’s gone.
And why would she stay? Just to watch me shamelessly flirt with a bunch of other women—and one woman in particular?
This is going to get complicated, quickly. I run a hand through my hair, feeling queasy. It’s more than possible that Nina doesn’t feel anything for me anymore. It’s been two years since we’ve seen each other, after all, and she ended up having to leave her nun training for me. Plus, the other day she was name-dropping her “friend” from back at home. Grady something or other, which for the record, is a totally stupid name.He’sprobably tall. Whatever. I don’t care.
Maybe it’s even possible that Ninaneverfelt for me what I feel for her.
But I don’t think so. I could be completely fooling myself, but when I look at her, and when she looks at me, and suddenly it’s like the rest of the world disappears, like our two souls are finding each other, like I’ve always known her—that can’t be just my imagination.
And ... I’ve signed up for seven more weeks of trying to keep my eyes and my mind and my hands off her while I intentionally pursue somebody else.
Gorramit.
Morrie appears at my side, his face unusually sober as he claps a hand on my shoulder. “Listen, Ackerman, we have a problem.” He lowers his voice so no one can overhear us. “It’s Nina.”
Whoa. How did he know I’ve been struggling to keep my mind offher all night? Morrie’s joked around before about being able to read me like a book, but now I’m wondering if he actually can. I watch him warily. “What do you mean?”
“She’s Harmony Miller’s cousin. Aaron Miller’s niece.”
Chapter 17
Nina
