Page 9 of Surviving Love
“Rob, Lydia, and Mason, you’re helping me on the shelter.” Jack strode off toward the thick wall of trees without another word.
Making no move to follow him, I mumbled, “Ahh, sure thing, asshole.”
Lydia laughed, pushing her auburn hair off her forehead. “He’s bossy, but I’ll bet he gets shit done.”
“No doubt.” I wondered if she liked Jack or if she found him irritating, like I did. I decided it couldn’t hurt to feel her out a bit. “It’s a little weird we didn’t get to pick our tribal leader like usual.”
“True.” She frowned.
“Just because he was the fastest swimmer, he’s in charge.” I studied her. “I’m not sure that’s the best way to pick a leader.”
She laughed. “We can always vote him out if he sucks.”
“That’s a good point.” I shot a wary look at the camera guy hovering near us.
Her gaze was curious as she watched me. “You and Jack don’t seem to get along. Did you know each other before the show?”
“No. We just met.” I glanced in the direction Jack had gone. “He seems to enjoy yanking my chain.”
“I noticed.”
“What do you think of Jack?” I hoped I sounded casual.
Shrugging, she said, “He’s okay. It’s hard to know what any of us are really like this soon. Maybe in real life he’s a super-chill guy.”
“If you’re right, I’ll eat my shoe.”
She laughed. “He’ll probably mellow out.”
“We can only hope. I don’t intend to take orders from Jack the whole time.” I grabbed one of the machetes and grudgingly followed Jack into the trees.
I found him in a small clearing, surrounded by teakwood and acacia trees. He met my gaze and pointed to some palm trees nearby. “We’ll use palm fronds for the roof. I’ll cut some bamboo for the floor and walls of the shelter.” He eyed the machete he held. “I’ll do the best I can, but this thing doesn’t look as sharp as I’d like.”
“Ever built a shelter before?” I asked.
“Of course.”
I wrinkled my brow. “Why of course?”
He smirked. “Because I teach survival training to city folk like you.”
Ignoring his mocking tone, I said, “Probably not on a tropical island though.”
He frowned. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning the natural resources you’re used to won’t be found here. The conditions on a tropical island will be very different from where you live.”
He chuffed. “Obviously, I know that the conditions are different.”
“That’s good.”
“And you have no idea where I live.”
“I’m guessing somewhere rustic like Texas or Montana? Where men are men and sheep are scared?” I moved toward some palm fronds that were on the ground.
“Ha. Ha.” He shook his head.
“Am I wrong?” I squinted at him. “If you’re from Vermont, I’ll take it all back.”
