Charade (Page 8)

Wicked Games (Games #1)(8)
Author: Jessica Clare

For some reason, I kept picturing his mouth on my hand, and the feel of his tongue against my skin. I blushed at the memory and forced myself to concentrate on what Chip was saying.

Chip pointed out at the water. “Each colored buoy has a bag of puzzle pieces underneath. One partner will swim out to grab the bag. Once you have a bag, swim to shore and turn it over to your partner. You need five bags total. The other partner will use the puzzle pieces to solve their board and raise their team’s flag. The first six teams to raise their flag win a prize. Want to see what you’re playing for?”

I nodded and clapped my hands as eagerly as the others. After a few nights of being stuck on a barren beach, we were all excited at the prospect of luxury items.

Chip slowly pulled a decorative box off the first plate. “Matches,” he called out, and held it aloft.

We clapped—who wouldn’t want matches when you had to build your fire by hand?

The next two items were shown—food. One plate had sandwiches and the next had cookies. I heard a collective groan from the girls at the sight of the cookies. I had to admit that chocolate sounded pretty good right now.

The next few items were equally good—a blanket and a set of pillows. The last item to be revealed was the one that truly caught my attention. Chip lifted the final box and displayed a large, dark green bottle. “Something for the skin,” he announced. “A native bug repellent made from eucalyptus oil.”

Just hearing that made me scratch, and I glanced up at Dean, who was having the same reaction I was. Bug repellent would be very nice.

“Line up, teams, and let’s get ready!” Chip lifted his arm in the air, and we sprang into action.

It didn’t take much convincing for me to agree that Dean would be our swimmer. He nodded at me and moved out to the edge of the beach with the other men, and I stood behind our table, sizing up who else was working the puzzles. All the female partners had been left to do the puzzles except for ex-military Ginger, who was moving down to swim with the guys. If anyone could do it, it was her, I acknowledged with a wry smile.

I glanced down at my puzzle-board, noting the edges. The colors were striated in a zebra pattern that consisted of several different colors. It was supposed to be confusing, but that would actually make matching up the pieces easier. The best thing to do would be to create the edges and build in from the middle. Confident, I glanced down the line at the others designated with the puzzles. They weren’t even looking at their boards, but were staring at their partners. The men were stripping down to their swim trunks, and it was an impressive display of bronzed male flesh. Several eyes, I noted, seemed to be focused on my partner in particular and his rock-hard body with the abs that you could bounce a quarter off.

Not that I had noticed, of course.

“Contestants ready?” Chip raised his arm in the air, lifting up a flag with the green Endurance Island logo on it. “Set… Go!”

Dean was the first one in the water, his muscular legs pumping as he splashed into the water until it was waist high and then doing a half dive into the water. Those of us waiting on the beach cheered our partners on—well, except for me. I didn’t want to cheer for Dean in front of the others. They were still giving us smirking looks, clearly expecting the two of us to self-destruct again. For some reason, that made me feel safe. They didn’t know of our little deal to try and get along, and they clearly didn’t see us as a threat. So I didn’t cheer him, just stood at my table with my fists clenched, my body a nervous pillar of tension.

The swimmers began to immediately tackle their first buoys, but Dean swam further out, to the far end of the lagoon, heading toward the furthest piece. I bit my lip at the sight, but realized that he was making a very smart move—when he was tired and the race was down to the wire, he wouldn’t have as far to swim.

Others began to notice too, and as the first puzzle pieces were handed off, I could hear scolding from the other partners. “Get the ones out farthest first! Go! Hurry!”

But they had their puzzle pieces in hand and I did not, so I was forced to stand on our mat and wring my hands, waiting for Dean to arrive again. We were far behind the others at this point, but I saw a couple adjusting their strategy and knew it would all make up in the end—I hoped. Some of the others were already tackling their puzzles, and all I could do was stare at Dean as he emerged from the water.

And oh my, was he gorgeous when he did. The water glistened off of his rock-hard abdomen and sluiced down his chest, and my mouth went dry when his loose shorts dipped low on his hips. Water dripped from his skin as he raced up to me, and I held out my hands like a marionette. He shoved the bag into my arms and turned around before I could talk to him, running back for the water again, his feet spraying sand in my face.

The moment was over.

I grabbed the puzzle pieces and ripped the bag open, throwing the pieces down on my board. There were ten pieces in my bag, so fifty altogether. I immediately flipped them and began to separate them by color and edge. Before I could start with the edges, Dean was back and threw another wet bag onto my table, then darted off again, and I started the whole process once more. All around me, people were screaming and running and spraying sand, and it was difficult to concentrate. I bent my head low and continued to sort my puzzle pieces, trying to tune out the others.

Three more times, Dean came and dropped a bag of puzzle pieces on my table, and the third time, he sat down on the mat, breathing hard. Good! Done! We had all of our pieces! I immediately finished sorting them by color and began to grab the ones I’d designated as edges, shoving them into place on the board. I’d been a whiz at puzzles when I was a kid, and a Tetris nerd as a teenager, and this was the same thing, I told myself. I worked rapidly, shoving pieces back and forth, filling in my puzzle by completing each color and working from right to left.

“How did they get all their pieces so fast?” Someone grumbled to the side of me, and I heard low whispering. I didn’t dare look up from my puzzle, but the tone of that voice had given me a cold shiver. If we weren’t perceived as useless and weak… we wouldn’t last long if we got in the bottom again. Not with Dean’s impressive athleticism.

I slowed down, shoving a yellow piece in the midst of several pink ones, and began to pretend to think hard, even though my mind was mentally fitting the pieces with ease and I was almost done with the puzzle. I didn’t want to be first. It’d be a death-knell for us if we were first.

Water dripped on the edges of my board. “What are you doing?” Dean hissed at me. “Why are you slowing down?” He pointed at one piece, my yellow one. “That doesn’t go there.”

I looked up and glared at him. “Back off,” I demanded in a loud voice, clearly startling my partner. “I know what I’m doing! Leave me alone!” I winked, but I doubted he could see it.

Dean gave me a shocked look, raising his hands in the air. He scowled in my direction, and I quickly shuffled pieces, moving the yellow one back to the proper spot, and glancing down the line. The others were still working hard. Dumb Heidi on the right of me hadn’t even gotten the edges of her puzzle built. She wasn’t a threat. Damn. I was still too far ahead.

What would be a good place? Fourth? Fifth? I desperately wanted a prize, but I also didn’t want to win.

Dean leaned in again. “Abby, what the hell are you doing?”

“Argue with me,” I murmured under my breath, sliding another piece in. I had two left in my hand, and I pretended to check the other pieces, as if I wasn’t sure that they fit together, glancing down the line. “Just argue with me. Loud,” I whispered.

He paused for a moment and it got quiet, and I wondered if he was going to catch on to my request. Then, loudly, “Are you a moron?”

“Go away,” I snarled at him, testing another piece and glancing down the line. “You’re making me nervous!” Lord, I hoped my acting was convincing.

“I’m trying to win this thing for us and you’re slowing me down,” Dean shouted, and I winced. “Did you not see that I was ahead? I was winning this thing!”

“Puzzles are hard,” I replied in a whiny voice.

“Done!” Someone shouted down the line, and a flag went up. Team Three.

I sucked in a breath, waiting, and slowly pressed in another piece.

“Done,” called someone else a moment later. Then another, “Done!” Two more flags rose.

“Abby,” Dean said in a warning voice, urgency putting an edge into his tone.

“We’re done!” A team close to me shouted, and Team Nine raised their flag.

I slammed the last piece in and flipped the lever on my flag, letting it soar. Screw waiting—I couldn’t stand it any longer. Fifth would do. “Done,” Dean shouted, a mere moment before one team called out and then another. We were close, lucky. So lucky.

My heart hammered in my chest at the look Dean gave me.

“Teams Three, Seven, Eight, Nine, Eleven, and Two are our lucky winners!” Chip waved the flag.

I heard Heidi snort to my right hand side, and a few people glanced back at us in surprise. Dean looked over at me and his mouth began to c*ck up in a smile.

I immediately threw one of the wet puzzle bags in his face, mentally wincing at the loud slap the wet fabric made. “Next time, don’t yell at me when I’m trying to work,” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “Jerkface!”

The teams nearby snickered, and the cameramen immediately moved in like vultures as I stomped my feet and shoved past Dean toward the winner’s circle where the other teams were gathering. They were lining up in order, teams hugging and leaning on each other in delight.

Dean moved to my side and I gave him a bit of a shove.

In the order that we finished, the teams got to pick their prizes. No surprise, the matches were the first thing to go. Not that I could blame them—if it had been my choice, I would have been hard-pressed to pass up easy fire. I had my eyes on the bug repellent, though. Already I could feel my skin itching.

The next team picked the cookies, and a collective sigh was heard around the challenge area as they took blissful bites out of them. Then the sandwiches, followed by more sighs. My fingers were crossed tightly as the next team seemed to discuss for a moment. “Blanket,” they said, and I exhaled sharply, looking over at Dean.

He didn’t even pause. “Bug repellent,” he said and scratched a bite on his arm.

Chip nodded, came over, and awarded the bottle to us. Dean took it from him and tucked it under his arm, deliberately not letting me get close to it, and I had to admit that it hurt my feelings. I glared at his back as the last team was handed their pillows and the small boats began to line up again to take us back to our camp sites.

We didn’t speak on the way back to camp—one of the rules of Endurance Island—and it bothered me that Dean wouldn’t even look in my direction. Hadn’t he understood what I was trying to do? I wanted to ask him, but I waited. And when they had dropped us off at our beach and it was no one but myself and Dean and the cameraman standing on the beach under the midday sun, Dean glanced down at the bottle, then turned and looked at me.