by Tara Sheets
He gave her a slow, sexy smile and bent to kiss her again.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Why did I agree to this?” Juliette asked. She was standing near the starting line of the Firefighters’ Mud Run, safety-pinning a race number on the back of Emma’s T-shirt.
“Because Gertie said we had to show our support for the firefighters’ children’s charity,” Emma said, gathering her hair into a ponytail. Gertie’s husband, Walter, was a local firefighter, and he was in charge of running the event. “Also, Molly wants to exercise, and she says the only way she’ll do it is through peer pressure.”
Juliette tugged her T-shirt down over her shorts. Thanks to Molly’s latest obsession with online shopping, they were all wearing bright team shirts with the phrase “Mermaids Do It Better” across the chest. “Well, at least we’ll look good doing it. Which is fortunate since we’re never going to win against those guys.” She tilted her head in the direction of the local runners’ club. Four lanky men in running shorts were stretching on the sidelines.
“What about them?” Emma whispered, gesturing to the group of jazzercise ladies in matching sparkly running skirts. “They look like they know what they’re doing.”
“Yeah,” Juliette said. “We’re definitely out of our element here.”
“Who cares?” Gertie emerged from the crowd with a power bar in one hand and a water bottle in the other. She bounced with energy, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “This will be fun. We get to be outside. Breathe fresh air.”
“Wallow in the mud,” Molly added, as she joined them. “Don’t forget the mud. The first challenge of the race is a huge rope net we have to climb over, and on the other side is a giant mud pit.” She was staring at the beginning of the obstacle course with a look of growing dread.
“That’s nothing,” Gertie chirped, taking a huge bite of her power bar and chewing quickly. “Wait till you see the Salmon Run.”
“What’s that?” Emma asked.
“It’s this blow-up tunnel you have to climb through, and it’s filled with bubbles up to your chin. And the whole time you have to dodge these wet sponge fish.”
“Sounds like a lot of work,” Molly said, scrunching up her face. “I wonder how many calories that’ll burn.”
“And then there’s the Polar Bear Swim,” Gertie continued. “A giant pool filled with ice you have to wade through to get to the Forest Run.”
“Anything on the Forest Run we need to worry about?” Juliette asked.
“Just Wolves,” Gertie said. “That’s what they call the volunteers. Those people will be running around in there trying to catch these.” She held up four red ribbons tied with Velcro elastic bands. “Everyone has to wear one of these around their waist. If one of the Wolves manages to snag yours, you’re out of the race.”
Molly let out a groan. “We might as well kiss Team Mermaid good-bye now.”
“Hey, you never know,” Emma said. “Maybe Brock’s entourage will distract most of the runners and we’ll have a fighting chance.”
They all turned to watch as the houseboat group gathered near the south side of the field. Brock was already surrounded by admirers, but he caught Juliette’s attention over the heads of his fans and winked.
“Ooh! I saw that,” Molly said. “Brock just winked at you.”
Juliette turned her back on the television crew. “Hopefully he just had something in his eye.”
“I think he still likes you, Jules,” Emma said under her breath.
“Oh, there he goes. Looking at you again,” Gertie said in a singsong voice.
“Can you guys please stop staring?” Juliette said in exasperation. “I don’t want him to think we’re talking about him.”
“We’re being discreet,” Molly said.
“Yeah, it’s not like we’re screaming ‘yowza! Awooga! Hubba hubba!’” Gertie laughed.
“Except you pretty much just screamed that,” Juliette said.
Molly shook her head. “I still can’t believe he’s a fake Australian. I mean, the accent’s always been part of the sex appeal, you know? Without the accent, he’s not even . . .” She tilted her head and sized him up. “Yeah, no. I tried, but he’s still hot. Even if he is fake. Maybe you should give him another chance.”
“He told me we should bang,” Juliette emphasized. “Like, he actually used that word in a sentence, and he was being serious.”
“Yeah, but you know how you hate when guys get all clingy? Well, that guy is never going to be clingy. I mean, look at him.” Molly pointed to Brock, who was now signing a giggling woman’s thigh with a Sharpie pen.
“Juliette doesn’t need to look at him,” Gertie said. “She has hot lumberjack Tarzan, remember?”
“Does she?” Molly gave Juliette a questioning glance. “Are you and Logan a thing now?”
“No,” Juliette said. “We’re for sure not a thing. We’re just . . . I don’t know. We’re just having fun, I guess. Maybe.” She frowned and shook her head, then let out a frustrated breath. “It’s nothing.”
Gertie looked at Molly and mouthed, It’s a thing.
“Jules,” Emma said in alarm. “Brock’s coming over here.”
Sure enough, Brock’s group of admirers shifted like a school of fish as he broke away and walked toward them.
“Hello, ladies.” The Australian accent was back in full force. To Juliette he said, “I was hoping you’d be here.”
“Yup.” Juliette busied herself with some lint on her T-shirt sleeve.
“Look, I’m sorry about what happened with the boat,” he said sheepishly. It looked good on him, with the puppy dog eyes and all that. “That was all my fault. I’d like to make it up to you.”
“No need,” she said coolly.
Brock waved his assistant over. “I brought you something.”
Before Juliette could respond, his assistant ran up with a huge messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He was short and wiry, with thick glasses and slicked back hair. He looked frazzled and smelled like cigarettes. “Anything you need, Brock?”
Brock pointed to the messenger bag. “Give me one of those phones, will you?”
His assistant dug through the bag, pulled out a box, and handed it to Brock.
Brock then handed it to Juliette with a flourish. It was the latest iPhone. “I know you lost your phone in the ocean, so I wanted to replace it.”
Juliette held the sleek white box. Her current phone was a cheap, pay-as-you-go model. She’d been planning to buy a new one when she had the money, but she didn’t plan on upgrading to something this fancy. “I can’t accept this,” she said. It was too expensive, and the last thing she wanted was to feel indebted to him.
“You’re taking it,” Brock announced. “It’s my fault you lost your phone, and I want to make it up to you. Do you forgive me?”
Juliette looked into his faux-tanned but earnest face. He wasn’t the catch everyone thought he was, but at least he was trying to say “sorry.” “Sure,” she said. “But I can’t take this, really. It’s too much.”
“Don’t sweat it. I’ve got loads of them. Don’t I, Jerry?”
His greasy-haired assistant nodded dutifully.
“Wow, you must have to apologize a lot,” Juliette said.
Brock looked confused, and his assistant looked alarmed. Then Brock began to laugh. Once he laughed, his assistant laughed, too.
“Look, I gotta run,” Brock said. “But just keep it, okay? I get them for free, anyway. It’s a publicity thing. It’s the least I can do.”
Juliette considered it. Apparently, it was the least he could do. If he wanted to give her a free iPhone, she wasn’t going to put up a fight. It didn’t have to mean she owed him anything. Their boat date had been a disaster. As far as she was concerned, she’d done her time. “Okay. Thanks.”
“No hard feelings?” Brock asked.
“Nope.” It was hard to be mad at someone as clueless as him.
He waved at Emma an
d the girls, then walked away with his assistant trailing after him like a puppy dog.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Emma said.
Gertie took the shiny new iPhone box and turned it over in her hands. “At least he knows how to apologize.”
“No kidding,” Molly said. “James brought me flowers the last time we argued. Maybe he needs to step up his game.”
An air horn blasted through the murmuring crowd, and people began to cheer in excitement.
“This is it,” Gertie said. “Look, there’s Walter.” She jumped up and down, blowing kisses to her husband.
Walter stood holding a megaphone on a podium near the starting line. He was a solidly built man in his fifties with thinning hair and a kind face. He and Gertie were the perfect couple, as far as Juliette was concerned. They’d been married for years, raised two sons, and were obviously still crazy in love.
“All right, everyone,” Walter said. “I want to thank you for coming out to the Mud Run this year, and for your participation in our annual charity event. I know you don’t want to hear me yapping, so we’re going to get this race started in just a few minutes. Whoever crosses the finish line with their red ribbon first wins for their whole team.”
Juliette stuffed the phone into her backpack and set it on the sidelines with the rest of their bags. She checked to make sure her waist ribbon was tied securely and took a quick drink of water, searching the crowd. Not that she was searching for anyone in particular. Just checking out all the runners. Logan was nowhere to be found, but then she wasn’t looking for him.
The first leg of the race began in a wide open field.
“Are you ready, girls?” Gertie said with excitement. “This is going to be fun.”
“This is going to be painful,” Molly said. “Why did I think I could do this? I’m not a runner. I hate sweating. I’m never going to make it across this field. It looks deadly.”
“It’s grass,” Juliette said. “And it’s mowed. I think you’ll survive. Besides”—she shaded her eyes and squinted—“I think I see the mud pit. Just pace yourself and save your energy for that.”
Molly grumbled and followed them to the starting line.
“What are the odds of us winning?” Emma asked as she surveyed the crowd.
“I’d say about a bazillion to one.” Juliette dodged a group of men who looked like weight lifters. “Give or take a zillion.”
“Bummer,” Molly said. “The prize would’ve been cool.”
Emma glanced up from tying her shoe. “There’s a prize? I thought this was a charity event.”
“It is,” Gertie said. “But there’s a prize for whoever crosses the finish line first. This year it’s from the Donut Junkee. Whoever wins gets four dozen donuts for their team, plus a free donut every week for a year.”
Juliette jammed her hands on her hips and began pacing back and forth. “Okay, this race just got real, you guys. Team Mermaid, we need to be in it to win it. Are you with me? Keep your eyes on the prize. This is the big leagues now.”
“Dang,” Molly said. “You’re good at pep talks.”
Juliette stopped pacing. “Is it working?”
“Kind of. What else you got?”
Suddenly, Walter began counting down from ten and the crowd joined in.
“Ladies,” Gertie shouted, bouncing with excitement, “start your engines.”
An air horn announced the beginning of the race.
Like a stampede of brightly colored cattle, the runners shot across the grassy field toward the first obstacle. The air smelled like freshly cut grass and sunscreen. Shouts of encouragement rose up from spectators on the sidelines as people dodged and wove through each other to get to the rope ladder at the end of the field.
Juliette and the girls stayed together for the first few minutes, weaving through the crowd as they rushed across the field, but by the time they reached the rope ladder, their group began to split.
“This rope is slippery,” Molly yelled when she was halfway up the net.
“No it’s not,” Gertie said from several feet above. “Your hands are just sweaty.”
“Well, it’s hot,” Molly complained. “This is dangerous.”
“You can do it,” Emma encouraged, as she pulled herself over the top and began climbing down.
Juliette had already reached the other side. The mud pit ahead of her was waist deep and about fifty yards long. People shrieked with laughter as they plunged into the sludge and began wading across.
“Are you ready for this, you guys?” Juliette said, staring out at the sea of muddy people.
“No,” Molly moaned, joining them at the bottom. “This is going to suck so much.”
“Mud’s good for your skin,” Gertie piped up. “Think of it as a spa day.”
Juliette launched herself feet first into the pit, the mud squelching around her body like lukewarm Jell-O. She pushed ahead, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. People shoved their way past each other in a jumble of muddy shoulders and elbows. Soon the mud began to migrate past Juliette’s neck, splattering onto her face and hair, but she just laughed and pressed on. The truth of it was, the mud didn’t bother her at all. She felt right at home surrounded by the scents of wet earth and grass. It was the hollering, shrieking people she was unaccustomed to.
Somewhere near the end of the pit, Juliette turned back to look for her friends. Emma and Gertie weren’t far behind, but Molly was only halfway across. Juliette started to turn back to help her.
“Just keep going,” Molly called miserably, waving a hand. Her face and hair were caked with mud. She looked like a disgruntled Cabbage Patch Kid. “Save yourselves. I’m going to be in this mud forever. I’m a mud person now.”
Juliette hesitated.
“Go,” Molly insisted. “Do it for Team Mermaid.”
Juliette heaved herself out of the mud pit and raced toward the Salmon Run. People were slipping all over the muddy grass, some falling in laughter, some choosing to stop on the sidelines for refreshments. She kept going, managing to stay on her feet until she reached the blow-up bouncy tunnel full of bubbles.
At the entrance, she took a deep breath and plunged in. Wet sponge fish slapped at her body. One landed on her head. Bubbles tickled her nose. Somebody slid into her, and they slammed against the tunnel wall. Juliette grabbed onto the side so she wouldn’t go under.
“Oi, mermaid,” Brock shouted in surprise. “You’re making good time, eh? Not bad for a local. Good on you.” He shoved himself off the inflatable wall and pushed on, calling over his shoulder, “See you on the other side.”
One of the wet sponge fish slapped Juliette square in the face. She blinked rapidly, swiping bubbles from her mouth and eyes. Not bad for a local? She was suddenly filled with the intense desire to show Brock Templeton that not everything on Pine Cove Island was slow. With fierce determination, she dug her heels in and charged after him.
By the time she reached the end of the tunnel, most of the crowd had thinned. From the looks of it, the less enthusiastic participants had decided to hang back at the refreshment stands set up along the course. Some people seemed content to walk toward the finish line, chatting in small groups.
Juliette didn’t stop for refreshments. She shot out of the tunnel, legs pumping and lungs burning, running as fast as she could toward the Polar Bear Swim. The container of floating ice chunks was the size of a small lap pool. It loomed ahead of her like a bad omen. Some of the die-hard athletes were already wading through the frigid water, which meant there was no time to be squeamish. She gritted her teeth and kept running. It was going to be crap-tastic. She knew it for a fact. But she was caught up in the spirit of the race, and Team Mermaid deserved a fighting chance.
“Go, Juliette!” she heard Emma call from back near the Salmon Run.
Juliette sprinted. Jumped. Screeched. The icy water hit her like a shock wave, so cold she could barely catch her breath. It was worse than the mud and bubbles combined, but she had to ke
ep going. The only way through it was through it. She forced her legs to move forward, catching sight of Brock several yards ahead of her. She couldn’t let him win. On impulse, she dove forward into the icy water, kicking as hard as she could until she swam her way to the other side.
When she pulled herself out, the air felt warm against her freezing skin. She didn’t stop to dry off. Flying past the volunteers holding out towels, she focused on the runners ahead of her. They’d already reached the forest. She could see them tearing through the undergrowth, their bright red ribbons fluttering behind them. But she had one advantage they didn’t have. She had Mother Nature on her side. Juliette gathered every ounce of energy she had left and ran head-on into the forest.
Shouts echoed through the trees. The Wolves were on the prowl, grabbing red ribbons from the runners who were unfortunate enough to cross their paths. Unlike the rest of the people in the race, Juliette didn’t have to dodge branches or worry about getting tangled in sticker bushes. The plants made way for her. She zipped over the foliage, pulling ahead of even the strongest athletes, determined to reach the finish line first. If it had been any other obstacle, she never would’ve stood a chance. But forests? Forests were a piece of cake.
Someone rushed at her from behind a tree. A woman made a grab for Juliette’s red ribbon. Juliette spun away, slipped under a branch, and kept running.
A few moments later, another Wolf appeared in front of her. She sidestepped him, leapt over a fallen log, and flew into the bushes. Within thirty seconds, she’d left him in the dust.
Juliette was just about to congratulate herself when she saw a large group of Wolves blocking the way. They’d formed a line and were walking slowly through the trees so it would be impossible for runners to pass them undetected.
“No fair,” she muttered, slowing to a stop. She slipped behind a tree to catch her breath, then hoisted herself on a low branch, climbed up into the tree, and waited.
When the line of Wolves passed, she hopped back to the forest floor and slapped dust from her hands. She was just about to tear off toward the finish line when someone stepped smoothly from the shadows.
