He grinned, hoping the phrase might strike a few nerves with producers.
“You probably already know that our five bachelorettes have already been chosen,” she said. “One of those ladies is vegan and a strong animals rights advocate. Would you be willing to change your meat-eating ways if the two of you were to fall in love?”
A hint of amusement struck him as he considered what she asked. “A vegan, eh? I think it’s safer to say that your scenario is not realistic. It would never happen. She and I wouldn’t be compatible, which is fine by me. I’m not one to force my opinions, and I’m not about to change my ways.”
He was tempted to leave it there, but the topic was a hot one for him. “I hunt for food, not sport, and I train others to do the same.”
“Which leads us to our next question,” Ivy said. “Tell us what you do for a living.”
This question wouldn’t help or hinder him, Easton supposed. He may as well just answer honestly and spread the word about the program. “I’m a co-founder, co-operator of a survival based rehab center for teens and young adults. We provide a nature based experience, no matter the season, where participants can get treatment for a number of addictions or issues, while teaching physical life survival skills along the way.”
“So you’re talking about nights spent in tents and under the stars,” she urged.
He nodded. “And days spent out in the elements too, no matter how hot or cold it might get. We make our own fire, catch our own food, and build our own shelter most months too.
“Adding that component—it takes the focus off their own personal weakness, whatever it might be, and demonstrates how common our human weakness is when faced with the elements. Learning to overcome those challenges, gaining those essential survival skillsets, it gives the kids a real boost.” He willed himself to stop there; he could ramble about that topic all day long.
“That’s…” She cleared her throat and sniffed. “That’s incredible. What gave you a heart for it?”
Easton gave her a subtle look of reprove. He’d let her first follow-up question slip, about the vegan chick, but this was hitting too close to home.
“My own traumatic childhood,” he said, a ring of finality coating his words.
Ivy blanched from the comment, her expression shifting from intrigue to regret. Maybe that would keep her from prying too much. The last thing he wanted to do was get caught in his emotions on camera.
She gave him a slight nod, seeming to acknowledge his intent, then lifted her chin once more. “So your job is to teach them the survival aspect,” she said.
He nodded. “Right. We have skilled therapists from diverse fields to address mental illness, addiction, depression, you name it. But my job goes back to the basics. I get people in touch with their caveman side. You never know when it
might come in handy.”
He glanced up at her pointedly across the barstool. “Heck, you could be all warm and cozy in your big SUV and suddenly get stuck in a blizzard with no means to save your own hide. If you don’t know how to fend and hunt for yourself, you could wind up at the mercy of some heathen.” He shot her a wink.
A giggle seemed to get caught in her throat. “Indeed.” She rubbed at her arms then, and Easton noticed goosebumps had formed over her skin.
“Are you cold?” he asked, wondering if that were even possible. It was quite warm if you asked him. But Ivy only shook her head.
“No. Thank you.” She bit at her lip and glanced down at the phone before lifting those blue eyes back on him. “Tell us about your best relationship experience.”
Easton couldn’t hide the glare that formed across his brow. Not only did he dislike the question in general, he really disliked the us part. It reminded him that this was, in fact, not just a conversation between the two of them. This was still an audition. An audition he very much needed to botch.
“I can’t say I’ve ever had a great,” he put up finger quotes “relationship experience. A few are less horrible than the others, if that works.”
“In what way?” she pried.
He huffed out a sigh, forcing himself to recall what he liked about his relationship with Luna, one of the counselors who’d spent time at the center. He knew just what set her apart from some of the women he dated. “In the way that she didn’t try to change who I am. And I didn’t try to change her either. We weren’t the same by any means, but we respected what was different about one another, if that makes sense.”
A grin pulled at one corner of her mouth. “That does make sense. Thank you.”
Easton shifted in his seat, anxious for this to be over. And once it was, would it be very wrong of him to accidentally drop her phone into the washing bin? Or fling it into the fire?
“Two final questions, starting with this. They say we often learn about love by the examples set in our youth. In just two sentences, tell us what couple influenced you most, and how you would describe their relationship.”
Wow, they were really asking for it, weren’t they? But maybe this would work in his favor. Perhaps it was answers like this that would keep him from moving into that final contestant slot.
“My parents,” he said holding up a finger for the first sentence. “And to describe their relationship…I can do it in one word.” He squared a good hard look at her then, and spit out the only definition that would do it justice. “Toxic.”
There, did she want him to elaborate on that topic too?
The crease between her eyes, the sad, softened pull at her brow, said she didn’t.
“Last question,” she said, her voice nearly defeated. She gulped, cleared her throat, and spoke louder then. “Why should you be one of America’s Looking For Love bachelors?”
Ah, this was a good one, easy to botch to the hilt.
“I shouldn’t,” he admitted. “I’m sure there are a whole lot of men out there, dying to find their somebody, whoever that might be. But I’m not one of them. In fact, I don’t think I’ll be ready for that for a very long time.”
Ivy’s lips hardened into a straight line. She widened her eyes next and nodded a knowing look toward the camera.
When he did nothing in response, she huffed out a breath. “Then why did you audition? And why agree to the interview?”
He guessed she was forced to ask the question, since she already knew the answer. This time he wouldn’t reveal the truth. Instead, he’d offer something else. “I guess I just changed my mind,” he said, tightening his jaw to show he was done.
It felt as if they were in a standoff, the way she held his gaze and stared him down while he did the same, unabashed.
“Is that all of your questions?” he urged, hoping to call an end to it once and for all.
Ivy reached for the phone and snatched if off the barstool. “Yes,” she said, tapping the screen with her thumb. “That’s all.” Irritation poured off her tone. Her frustration was evident in her quick and angry movement as well. She thumped at the screen some more before pressing a small button alongside to shut off the device. At once she tugged at the neck of her shirt and wedged the phone in what he could only assume was her bra.
“I can put that over here on the table if you don’t want to—”