Page 111 of Ex Marks the Spot

Now Paul’s expression shifts from anger and disgust to . . . excited?

“With DeAngelo and Big Mike being disqualified from Xtreme Quest, the producers have updated the final standings.”

The screen switches to a chart showing the results for the last leg of the race.

“Team Old Bay is now in third place and the winner of the ten-thousand-dollar prize. Team Bombshell is now in second place and the winner of the twenty-five-thousand-dollar prize.”

Hartley’s wide eyes lock onto mine as Paul finishes with,

“And Team Hartbreak is now in first place and the winner of the million-dollar prize.”

We turn our focus to the screen, and everything happens in slow motion after that.

Hartley is in my arms, confetti surrounds us, the entire room is cheering, Boyd is leaping over the back of his couch to get to ours, I’m laughing, Hartley’s laugh-crying along with the Bombshells and Old Bay, and now I’m somehow on my feet hugging Paul, who closes out our live event on national TV with me embracing him in a bear hug from the side.

It’s an out-of-body experience to say the least.

After fielding more hugs and high fives from the rest of the contestants, I find my way back to Hartley and pull her against my chest. “So that just happened.”

“This is not how I thought the race would end when I saw you on the lawn in Dallas.”

“What did your version look like?”

“I was convinced there was an eighty-four percent chance I’d murder you before it was over.”

I bark out a laugh because I can absolutely picture her imagining that. “How about we go with a different ‘m’ word and change that percentage.”

Her eyes are gleaming when she says, “You mean ‘marry’ and a ‘zero percent chance’?”

“‘Marry,’ yes, but you’d better add a one and another zero to make it a hundred percent.”

She lifts her shoulders in a playful shrug and pulls my lips to hers. “I guess I can do that since we have all these extra zeros now.”

EPILOGUE

HARTLEY, SIX MONTHS LATER

Iwatch with skeptical eyes as Court unloads two hundred hamburgers and hot dogs onto the conveyor belt at the Piggly Wiggly. “You’re sure we’ll be able to sell all of this in a four-hour fundraiser at the car wash?”

“The Winston brothers are stopping by, so that’s easily a dozen each. Jackson said a bunch of deputies from the sheriff’s office would be there too. Then there’s the football team and the band parents, plus anyone else who comes off the street. Honestly, the bigger concern is running out before it’s over.”

If he’s right, the Green Valley High marching band will get twelve hundred bucks just from food off the grill. If he’s wrong, I guess we’ll all be eating burgers and hot dogs for the next?—

Hang on.

My attention snags on a tabloid headline to my right.

Caught! Xtreme Quest winner spotted with mystery man

The picture on the cover was taken from across a parking lot. I’m sitting in the passenger seat of a cherry-red sportscar smiling at the driver, whose face is conveniently blocked by the sun visor.

“Why do you insist on reading that trash?” Court asks when I pluck the magazine from the rack.

“How else am I going to know what I’ve been up to?”

While he continues unloading the cart, I flip to the exclusive article on page eight.

“Six months after the shocking Xtreme Quest reunion show, Hartley Billings was spotted car shopping in Knoxville with an unknown businessman,” I say with an almost-straight face. “A source said Billings and her companion couldn’t stop smiling as they signed paperwork together, and it was clear she wasn’t wearing her engagement ring.

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