by Julie Benson
Liar. You bought the books in hopes that you’d have an epiphany, change your dating luck and actually end up with a husband, and children conceived in love, not in a lab.
“Whatever you say, Maggie. Women worry too much about dating. They should be themselves. Otherwise a guy wakes up one morning and wonders why the woman he’s with is so different from the one he met.”
So far, being herself had gotten Maggie only a handful of first dates, and even fewer second ones. But she didn’t intend to discuss that with Griffin. Then she realized how far they’d strayed from the original topic.
“I can’t believe you took her business card when you’re on a show to find a wife. No dating other women. No taking them up on their blatant offers, either. Got it? Have I spelled it out clearly enough?’
“Glad you finally came up for air. I was worried you’d pass out from lack of oxygen.” Griffin crossed his arms over his broad chest. “For the record, I took the card to avoid being rude.”
Then he surprised her by tossing it in the nearest trash can. But then what choice did he have, with her standing there?
* * *
AS GRIFFIN WAITED OUTSIDE the bachelorette mansion for the women to arrive, the lights of the Vegas Strip coloring the night sky, a mixture of unease and restlessness filled him. Being on the road all the time had been his least favorite part of bull riding, and he felt the same longing for home stirring in him now. No matter how much he complained about not knowing how he fit in at the ranch, that’s where his roots were. That’s where his life was. Not here in the city. If it hadn’t been for Maggie, and matching wits with her over the last week, he’d have gone crazy.
Maggie. Such an odd mixture. She dressed like a woman twice her age, while having the sexiest bedroom eyes he’d ever seen. Why did she try so hard to blend into the background? Granted, she would never be a beauty, but she could look much better than she did if she tried.
As the limo stopped in front of the mansion, Griffin ran through his strategy again, and tried to ignore the cameras. He would concentrate on the women’s careers. Anyone with a job that wouldn’t be affected by moving to Estes Park was out. He’d search for any candidate who was looking for a man to save her from a lousy life, and eighty-six her, too. All the while, he’d appear interested, play the bachelor searching for true love, while remaining detached and focused.
Easy. That was all he had to do, while trying not to look like a fool as countless cameras filmed his every move.
When the limo door opened, out stepped a stunning brunette. Long legs, a short skirt and a mouth meant for kissing… With a smile on his face, Griffin waited for her to join him.
Feeling more at ease and in his element, he greeted her with a light kiss on the cheek. They laughed. They flirted. He promised they’d talk more later, and she entered the mansion.
Then he started the process again with the next contestant in the get-Griffin-a-wife sweepstakes. By the fifth greeting, the excitement and the fun waned. They were too…what? Then it hit him. They were all the same. Long legs, short black dress, bright red lips. The only difference was their hair and eye color. His mind started to wander. Who were the Broncos playing this Sunday? Could Von Miller remain healthy and make the Pro Bowl as a rookie? He stared at the blonde in front of him, having no idea what she’d just said.
Maggie wouldn’t be pleased that he wasn’t giving the bachelorettes his full attention. He checked over his shoulder, half expecting her to bound out the front door. He could hear her lecture now.
You need to show the same enthusiasm meeting the last woman as the first. You are happy to be meeting them, aren’t you?
He’d dutifully say yes, and then she’d tell him to act like it.
Quit thinking about Maggie. Focus on the job ahead.
Then the cheerleader stepped out of the car. Dressed in a blue-and-white uniform with COUGARS in big letters across her chest, her hair in a ponytail, she looked more ready for a pep rally than a date. He wondered if she’d do backflips up the walkway to get his attention, but then she reached into the car and pulled out pom-poms. Talk about looking like a fool in front of the cameras.
With a big smile on her face, pom-poms rustling, she bounced up the walkway toward him. He kept expecting her to burst into a cheer any minute. This chick could give Katie Couric perky lessons. Scary.
“Wow, that was something,” he said when she stood in front of him.
“I’m glad you liked it. I take gymnastic classes to keep in shape and to maintain my skills.”
How sad to be that stuck in the past.
“My name’s Jasmine.” Then she pounced on him, leaving him no choice but to catch her, and kissed him long and deep.
When she came up for air, he mumbled something about being glad to meet her, and that they’d talk more inside.
After the last bachelorette entered the mansion, Maggie joined him. Dressed in a pair of navy pants and a baggy white cardigan, with her hair pulled back in that annoying ponytail, she looked as if she belonged at a women’s sewing circle. Didn’t she ever glance in a mirror before going out of the house? No way—because if she ever saw her reflection, she’d burn every piece of clothing she owned.
“You nervous?” she asked when she stopped beside him.
As he thought about the beautiful women he’d just met, he felt as if he’d been ushered into a bank vault and told he could keep all the money he could grab. Nothing about that made him nervous.
“I’ve been dating since I was fourteen. What’s to worry about?” he replied. “Are you nervous?”
“I am a little. I didn’t think I would be, since I’ve been with the show so long, but it’s different being the buck-stops-here person.”
“Unless there’s a stampede, you’ll be fine.”
Her posture relaxed as she snickered, her whole face lighting up, softening her angular features. “We haven’t had a bachelor trampled yet. Though we’ve come close with a couple of catfights.”
“Now that would be fun to watch. Throw in a little mud and you’d have a real ratings booster.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Maggie giggled. “I’ll go inside and say hello to everyone. Then it’s time for your welcome speech.”
Even if he’d remembered he was supposed to prepare one, he wouldn’t have done it.
When the silence stretched to the awkward point, Maggie’s eyes widened. “You did write something, didn’t you?”
“Did I mention my high school girlfriend wrote my debate speeches?” His words hung between them as he waited for Maggie to offer to help, the way women always did when he tossed out the hint.
“Why does that not surprise me?” She shook her head. “I’ll take that to mean you didn’t get anything ready.”
“How about you jot down something for me?” He stared directly into her eyes, then smiled the littlest bit and waited. Maybe she was one of those women who needed to be asked.
“Are you serious? I’ve got a whole list of things to do, important things, and you don’t need my help. I’ve never seen anyone as comfortable talking to people, especially women, as you are.”
Maggie’s refusal to write his speech stunned Griffin. Women stumbled over each other for the chance to help him.
No problem. He hadn’t hit the right button with her yet. He leaned forward, as if he was about to share a secret. “I might get tongue-tied when the cameras are on. This will be broadcast on national TV.” His gaze locked with hers. He paused for effect. “Don’t let me look like an ass or a country bumpkin.”
She laughed in his face. “You get tongue-tied? No way. Just admit it. You didn’t want to write the speech.”
Okay, so the helpless appeal wasn’t the right approach. He scrambled to regroup. But never having dealt with a woman he couldn’t get to come around to his way of thinking, he wasn’t quite sure what to do.
“What gave me away?”
“I grew up watching one brother wrap everyone around his little fin
ger. I bet, like him, you’ve skated through life on your looks and creative schemes.”
Griffin shrugged. “They usually work, especially with women.”
“Really? That doesn’t speak well of the ones you associate with.”
Being smart wasn’t high on his dating criteria. He focused on women who liked to have fun and weren’t looking for a commitment. “I don’t discriminate based on IQ.”
“No kidding. Britney’s proof of that.”
He couldn’t hold back his chuckle. “Now that I’ve come clean, will you write something for me? With your expertise, you could do it in no time.”
Maggie laughed. Again. The full, melodic sound washed over him, making him smile despite his annoyance. He was zero for three tonight.
“After what I said about my brother you have the guts to try again? Your confidence is astounding. Either that or you’re slow on the uptake.”
“Old habits.” He tossed her his best you-can’t-throw-me-to-the-wolves look. “What am I gonna do if you don’t help me?”
“You’ll have to wing it, but from what I’ve seen, I’m guessing that won’t be a problem. You’d better think fast, however, because time’s up.” Then she opened the front door, and stepped inside, while he waited on the porch.
“Let me start by saying how glad I am that all of you are here this season,” Maggie said, loudly enough for him to hear. “I want to remind everyone that there are hidden cameras everywhere, and I mean everywhere, in the mansion. Despite that, try to act as natural as possible.”
Nervous female giggles twittered in the air.
Griffin grimaced. Organized, controlled dating with a script and thousands of people watching. Maggie sure knew how to take the fun out of the game. Good thing he viewed directions as guidelines only.
Half listening, he marveled at how long Maggie could talk without taking a breath. She’d better wrap things up quick or she’d put everyone to sleep.
“I’ve situated you in small groups around the room to help facilitate easier conversations.”
Facilitate better conversation? Was she kidding?
“From the footage tonight, we’ll select what to air, but I assure you everyone will receive screen time. I’ll direct things from my office here in the mansion, where I have monitors for all the cameras.” With a big grin on her face, Maggie motioned Griffin forward. “We’ll start off with our bachelor saying a few words.”
Showtime.
Chapter Seven
As Griffin walked into the elaborate living room, he vowed that tonight he’d think about nothing but having fun.
Women sat scattered around the room, talking and drinking champagne. The view was any man’s best dream.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t say the same about his surroundings. The furniture was the ornate designer stuff a man worried about spilling something on. The deep purple and gold decor made him long for the earthy tones of home and a comfortable brown leather couch. Man furniture. How was he supposed to feel comfortable in this sissy environment? Couldn’t they put one man chair in here?
He stopped in the middle of the room. “I’m glad you’re all here. Now, let’s have some fun.”
Done with his speech, he started walking toward one group. But a tall blonde popped up in front of him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with enough tongue action to make him think she was checking his tonsils. Not that he usually minded, but he liked to know a little more than a woman’s name before he got so personal.
What was her name, anyway? How was he supposed to keep the bachelorettes straight without a score card and a seating chart?
When she let him come up for air, he pulled away. His mother’s lectures on manners never covered what to say after a woman he’d just met kissed his socks off. His mom. The hidden cameras had caught every second of the intimate welcome. Probably from multiple angles. He wouldn’t think about that now. He couldn’t. “That’s quite a hello.”
“I like to make an impression.”
“Mission accomplished.” But not in the way she’d intended.
He chatted with her for a minute, discovering she was a lawyer. Other women joined the group, forming a circle around him. Appearing interested turned out to be easier than he expected. All it took was a few well placed questions and an occasional nod.
“Can you really have sex while riding on a horse?” one of the bachelorettes asked.
Only in some writer’s imagination. But why would he want to do that, when he could choose a comfortable bed and take his time? “I don’t think that’s any way to treat a lady. Horses don’t always smell the best, and can be a bit unpredictable.” He paused for effect. “A woman should have candles, soft sheets and a man who has nothing on his mind but her.”
The women grew all dreamy eyed and many of them sighed. He could play the romantic with the best of them. Griffin started to think about what questions he could ask to determine which were the high maintenance candidates. But before he had a chance, the blonde beside him said, “Do you ever sleep with your cowboy boots on?”
Really? Yeah, he tromped through horse manure all day and then crawled into bed with his boots on. Had the woman thought before asking the asinine question? Maggie never would’ve come up with such a stupid one.
Focus. You’ve got work to do.
“There are two things I do in bed. I make love or sleep. Boots get in the way for both.”
He asked the bachelorette closest to him what she did for a living, discovered she was a hairstylist, and slotted her on his mental to-be-eliminated list, since she could work anywhere. Too bad, because her low-cut dress revealed she had a body he could explore for days.
Then the cheerleader, Jasmine, complete with perfect white smile and matching hair ribbons around her ponytail, placed her hand on his arm. “Can I show you the cheer I’ve written for you?”
Whatever made her think writing a cheer was a good way to land a man? That wouldn’t have worked on him in high school, either.
“Cheer away.”
She scanned the room. Then she asked him to move a chair and an end table. Once he’d cleared enough space, he sank into a seat to watch.
Jasmine clapped her hands. “Ready? Okay. Griffin, Griffin, if you’re my man, I can make you happy. Yes, I can.”
As he watched her execute high kicks between bouncing around and making chopping arm motions, he wondered what Maggie had been like in high school. Had she been tall and gawky? He bet she was the smartest kid in her class.
You’re in a room full of beautiful women. Forget about Maggie. Enjoy what’s on display in front of you.
When his attention returned to Jasmine, she jumped into the air and landed in the splits. Not knowing what else to do, and feeling as if he’d entered a time warp back to high school, he clapped, and mumbled something about how thrilled he was that she’d written a cheer for him.
Any minute, he expected her to pass him a note.
I like you.
Do you like me?
Circle your answer.
I like you, too. I like you, but only as a friend.
“I hear you own a ranch,” another candidate said.
“I own one-sixth of Twin Creeks Ranch in Colorado. My mom owns fifty-one percent, and my brother and sister each own a sixth.” The reality of what he was doing crashed down on Griffin, reminding him again of the hidden cameras. Everything he said and did tonight would be laid out for the world, and his family, to see.
Rory’s words pounded in his ears. When relationships from reality shows go up in flames the whole thing gets played out in the tabloids.
Everything he did reflected on his family and could hurt their business. His actions could embarrass them, especially his mom. She’d have to face the neighbors and explain why he’d been such an ass.
Damn, that sure put a damper on his plans for the night.
* * *
SEATED IN HER OFFICE, surrounded by monitors showing different views of the mixer, Ma
ggie focused on Griffin. Dressed in sleek black pants, a deep burgundy, button-down shirt and his cowboy boots, the man oozed Western charm.
Scanning the screens, she shook her head. The bachelorettes’ dresses grew shorter and lower cut every season. The blonde to Griffin’s right leaned forward. He could probably see down to her waist. Hadn’t she ever heard the phrase less is more?
“I’m double jointed,” the woman blurted out. Then she contorted her hands into a weird knot and looked Griffin over from head to toe. “You should see what I can do with my legs.”
Oh, please. She actually thought that was a good come-on line? Her contortions looked scary to Maggie.
“I can see where that move might come in handy getting the last pickle slice out of the jar,” Griffin said.
Maggie instructed one cameraman to zoom in on Miss Double Jointed, who smiled wistfully at Griffin.
“Anytime you’re up for finding out what else I can do, I’m ready,” she added, her voice sultry, as she ran her palm up Griffin’s arm.
How could these women miss all the backhanded comments he tossed out?
Instead of responding to the open invitation with a sexy comeback as expected, Griffin turned to his right, and as if he were conducting a job interview, asked the next bachelorette what she did for a living. Once he’d gathered that information, he asked where she lived and what her career goals were.
Career goals? This from the man who said he didn’t discriminate based on IQ. Where was the captivating man who’d so deftly handled the question about making love on the horse? Much more of this conversation and Maggie would never get the first episode in the can.
Returning her focus to the action in front of her revealed Griffin had gotten the teacher to talk about her past and why she’d come on the show. Then he asked the other candidates clustered around him the same question.
Maggie didn’t know what alien possessed Griffin, but she needed the real man back on-screen. No one, including his family, would tune in to see this cardboard character.
Exiting her office, she walked into the living area and tapped him on the shoulder. “I need to speak with you for a few minutes.” Maggie glanced at the bachelorettes. “I won’t keep him long. Chat among yourselves.” At least they’d get some useful initial-reaction footage from the hidden cameras while she talked to Griffin.
