Page 11 of Surviving Love
“Yeah, me too.” Rob followed her.
I didn’t want to get everyone mad at me, so I stuffed down my resentment and went back to work. It was horribly humid, and rain dribbled down the inside of my shirt as I carried the palm leaves back and forth across the beach to camp. Every time I heard one of the others laughing, I had to grit my teeth to prevent myself from saying something. Did they really not feel guilty about the fact that Jack and I were the only ones still working? The shelter was for all of us, not just me and Jack.
At one point, Jack came crashing out of the trees, dragging a big piece of bamboo. He dropped it on the ground with a grunt and stood breathing hard. His gaze slid to the others, and annoyance swept his features. I was still working, gathering palm fronds, and his gaze flickered with surprise when he noticed me. Clenching his jaw, he glanced at the pile of bamboo he and Rob had gathered, and he strode over to it and went back to work.
The two of us labored in silence, gathering all the elements we’d need for the shelter. When Jack and I began to actually assemble the structure, I expected the others to join us, but they stayed where they were, talking and laughing.
“Unbelievable,” I muttered. “What are we, their lackeys?”
“Right?” Jack responded, not looking at me. “Bunch of lazy-asses.”
“We should make them all sleep outside in the rain,” I grumbled.
Jack’s cheek curved in a grudging smile, but he didn’t speak.
At one point, Jack pulled his shirt off, and I had to force myself not to stare at him. He definitely rubbed me the wrong way, but there was no denying he had a beautiful body—lean and sinewy. I had no idea what his sexual orientation was, but did it really matter? Even if Jack and I learned to get along, I wasn’t here to hook up with anyone. I was here to win a million dollars.
It was no huge surprise that Jack took charge, and I tried not to bristle when he corrected me constantly. Since he was a survival expert, he naturally knew more than me. But I wasn’t a complete idiot. I knew enough to turn the fronds up so they acted like little rain gutters without him telling me that.
The sun lowered in the sky, and visibility became worse as the rain began to really pour. I worked as hard as I could, but Jack was like a well-oiled machine, chopping and assembling the shelter. While I disliked Jack, I certainly couldn’t accuse him of being lazy. He worked his ass off, stripping bamboo and framing the walls and floor of the shelter.
Harold had gotten a fire going earlier, but he hadn’t made any effort to protect it from the rain. Because of that lack of initiative, the fire was now simply a smoldering, wet, useless mess. I was hugely disappointed because out here, fire was everything. Without fire, we couldn’t cook the rice. I’d have loved to fill my growling belly with warm rice, but that probably wasn’t going to happen now.
The rest of the tribe continued to huddle under the large teakwood tree, looking miserable. Jack cast them impatient glances now and then, but he didn’t say anything. I stayed with him, helping to bend and secure the bamboo structure. It was definitely ironic that the two people who liked each other the least were the only two left working as a team.
Jack didn’t talk much—mostly he just grunted at things I said—but as the shelter neared completion, I felt his gaze on me a few times. At one point, I looked up and caught him watching me with an odd expression. I raised my brows in inquiry, but he just glanced away.
The sun was down by the time Jack finally announced the shelter was finished enough to use. The others groaned with relief and started clapping. We’d need to work on the structure more tomorrow, but for now, it was at least something to protect us from the worst of the rain. Thankfully, the temperature hadn’t dropped that much when the sun went down. It was still muggy and warm, but my feet and hands felt waterlogged.
“Could you maybe make a fire, Jack?” a young girl named Julia asked hopefully.
Jack’s jaw clenched. “That was Harold’s job.”
Harold wilted. “I got it going, but then…”
Jack gave a disgusted grunt.
“We won’t be able to cook the rice without fire,” Julia said.
With a heartfelt sigh, Jack sat down inside the shelter. Even as tough as he was, he looked exhausted, and there were definite lines of strain on his face. “I’m sorry. I know you’re all hungry. I’m hungry too.” He blew out a long, tired breath. “But to be honest, I don’t have it in me to make the fire. It would take hours in this rain. I’m beat. I’d rather just go to sleep and rest up for tomorrow’s challenge.”
“Oh, okay.” Julia slumped, and one of the cameramen focused on her, probably hoping some drama was about to start.
Rubbing his stomach, Rob muttered, “I’m damn hungry, man.”
“No big surprise we’d starve on this show,” Jack shot back.
“Of course. I’m just saying being hungry sucks.” Rob grimaced.
“Maybe you should have helped Harold keep the fire going,” Jack muttered.
I smiled inwardly at how surly Jack was being. If he kept that up, it would be easy to convince the others to unload him.
“I tried to help Harold. The rain was just too much,” Rob said. “It was coming down in buckets.”
“Well, I used all my energy building the shelter with Mason.” Jack sounded irritated. “I don’t have it in me to spend the next few hours trying to get the fire going too.”
Wincing, Rob said, “I know. I know. I just feel better bitching because I’m frustrated.”
