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**k 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.
“That was a huge risk, you know.”
“I know,” I admitted.
He shook his head, a grin slowly sliding across his face. “I don’t know whether to scream at you or kiss you.”
For some reason, that admission made me shy, and my mind immediately went back to the peanut butter. I felt my face grow hot—damn—and I gave him a goofy smile. “I was hoping you’d catch on to what I was doing. If the others think we can’t work together, we’re safe if we happen to come into the final two again. Think about it—they’re going to keep us around because we’re a liability. We’d be fools not to play that up.”
He moved closer and grabbed the back of my head, twisting his hand into my thick, curly hair. For a moment there, I thought he was going to lean in and kiss me, but he only grinned and looked directly into my face, inches away. “You are a genius, you know that?”
This was getting dangerously close to flirting. I shoved at his chest, albeit in a more playful fashion. “I’m just tired of getting eaten by bugs.”
“Me too,” he agreed, pulling the cork out of the bottle. “But I wouldn’t have minded a sandwich. Dean held out the bottle, sniffed it, and then made a face. “Smells strong.”
I scratched at the welts on my arms. “Probably to keep the bugs away.”
“Waterproof, too, according to the label. That’s nice of them, considering they’ve parked us on a beach.” Dean grinned. He tilted the bottle in my direction, offering it to me. “Ladies’ first?”
I took the bottle from him and gave it a small sniff, then winced. He was right, it did smell really strong. I poured a small bit onto my hand and felt the texture—thick like lotion. The sand was going to stick to us like mad, but I didn’t care. I’d take gritty sand all over me and no bugs. With quick, enthusiastic motions, I began to rub it onto my bare, exposed arms.