Jake laughed and announced, ‘Scarlett Take-No- Prisoners, who is standing in for her hen, Candice, let’s see what you’ve got.’
The girls on her table whooped and cheered as Scarlett easily limboed under the rope and popped up on the other side.
After Scarlett were another six competitors, four hens, one with a rather heavy, awkward-looking tiara holding her veil in place, and two chicks. Two more fell on the first attempt and Scarlett thought the success rate was probably indirectly proportionate to the amount each ‘chick’ had had to drink.
As the contest continued and the number of competitors dropped, so did the height of the rope. As the rope descended the Himbos shortened it too, bringing them even closer together and giving the chicks less margin for error. Another two stumbled and were eliminated as the rope was lowered to the bottom of the Himbos’ rib cages.
The girls were being urged on by their friends but despite the encouragement all but two were out of the competition after attempting to limbo under the rope when it was level with the Himbos’ waists. By the time the rope was moved further south to their hips Scarlett’s until-now-unknown competitive streak had well and truly emerged and she had no intention of losing tonight. It was now a two-chick race between her and a girl named Tracey and it was Scarlett’s turn.
Scarlett sized up the competition. Tracey was several inches shorter than her so Scarlett slid her platform heels from her feet to level the playing field. The rope was very low now and she didn’t need to make this any harder than it already was.
‘Watch out, Tracey.’ Jake laughed. ‘The competition is getting serious, clothing is being shed. What else is coming off, Scarlett?’
His green eyes were challenging her again and something in his expression made her want to challenge him back. ‘Nothing yet,’ she quipped, and was rewarded with a brief spark of something—maybe attraction, maybe anticipation, she wasn’t sure—but there was definitely a light in his eyes. She turned her back, wanting to leave him hanging, and shimmied under the rope. She just managed to scrape under without over-balancing.
Jake had stepped around to the other side of the Himbos and was there to take her hand as she straightened. He kept his elbow bent, which kept her close, and his hand warmed her skin where it wrapped around her fingers. He smelt clean, as if he was freshly showered but she knew that couldn’t be the case. He smelt good.
She could feel the heat coming off his half-naked body and she knew the skin on his chest would feel as warm and soft as his hand. Scarlett’s stomach trembled as Jake continued to hold her hand as they waited for Tracey to take her turn at the limbo. Her body was tingling as Jake’s touch awakened her senses and she could feel the pulse low in her belly starting to beat a little bit faster.
Scarlett knew she could pull her hand out of Jake’s grasp but she didn’t want to. This connection would be severed soon enough and she wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. They watched as Tracey almost made it under the rope before falling at the last hurdle, putting her hand on the ground just before she was ready to stand and thereby disqualifying herself.
Jake let go of Scarlett to help Tracey to her feet. ‘I’m sorry, Tracey, you almost did it,’ he said as he helped her up, before turning back to Scarlett. ‘That makes you our winner tonight.’ His smile lit up his green eyes as he added, ‘Would you like to see how low you can go?’
Scarlett watched as Caesar and Rico moved the rope down another couple of inches until it was sitting across their groins. She looked back at Jake. He was now grinning mischievously and she knew he was waiting to see if she was up to the next challenge. She shook her head. She’d let him win this round. ‘I’m done.’
‘All right, here’s your prize.’ Jake reached his left hand behind him and when he brought it forward again he had a handful of fake money that he must have had stashed in his pocket. Scarlett frowned. What was she supposed to do with fake dollar bills?
He held the notes up in the air and Scarlett got another glimpse of the tattoo on the soft side of his arm. At close range she could see that the inky black marks were stars, five of them in total, their arrangement making a pattern that was familiar to every Australian. He had the Southern Cross constellation tattooed on his skin.
Jake kept his arm held high as he turned through one hundred and eighty degrees, showing the fake money to the crowd, who cheered as he called out, ‘Tipping dollars!’
‘Tipping dollars?’ Scarlett repeated. She had no idea what he was talking about.
Jake lowered the microphone and leant in close as he pressed the fake banknotes into her hand. ‘It’s to tip the dancers,’ he explained. ‘Tuck some into the guys’ shorts before you leave the stage and share the rest with your group for them to use later.’
The crowd applauded and cheered again as she tipped the Himbos while Jake escorted Tracey from the stage, but before she could follow the crowd began to chant, ‘Jake, Jake, Jake!’ and she knew she was expected to tip him too. She wasn’t certain but she thought Candice might have been leading the call.
Jake was back by her side again. He didn’t seem surprised or reticent and she suspected he loved the attention. She’d bet his star sign was Leo. They loved the limelight. She tucked a few notes into his waistband and as her fingers brushed against his hipbone she found herself searching his skin for more tattoos. But the skin of his torso and waist was smooth, tanned and ink-free. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she could feel a blush stealing across her cheeks. Somehow touching Jake felt a lot more personal than when she’d been tipping Caesar and Rico.
With shaky hands she picked up her shoes and fled the stage, retreating to the relative safety of her table.
‘That was a side of you I hadn’t seen before,’ Mel said as she sat down.
‘And don’t expect to see it again any time soon,’ Scarlett replied. Her heart was still racing, making her sound breathless. She hoped everyone would think it was from the exertion of the limbo, although she knew it was a reaction to Jake.
Performing in front of a crowd was completely out of character for her but part of her had enjoyed the chance to pretend to be someone else, someone less worried about behaving appropriately and less concerned about being who people expected her to be. Perhaps it was a case of ‘anything goes’ tonight or maybe normal inappropriate behaviour was considered appropriate within the four walls of The Coop, but she didn’t have time to consider it any further as Mel interrupted her musings.
‘I thought it was rather entertaining. But, tell me, who is Judge Jake and how does he know Candice?’ Mel asked, as Scarlett handed the remaining tipping dollars to Candice.
‘We’re old family friends,’ Candice interrupted. ‘He’s coming over now, I’ll introduce you.’
Scarlett turned her head. Sure enough, Jake was approaching their table. He was no longer bare-chested, he’d put on a black T-shirt and a black leather jacket but, if anything, he looked even better. No, not better, she thought, but just as good.
Candice made quick introductions before Jake grabbed an empty chair from the table beside theirs. He flipped it around with a practised move and wedged it in between Scarlett and Mel before straddling it backwards. His long legs stuck out sideways and brushed against Scarlett’s thigh.
‘So you do own a shirt,’ Scarlett said, as her eyes raked his torso.
‘And a jacket,’ he teased.
He was leaning forward over the back of the chair, his arms crossed. The teasing note in his voice and the gleam in his eye made her feel bold. She reached out and ran her hand down his sleeve. ‘There’s a definite leather theme going on in this place.’
‘Hey,’ he said, as he sat up straight in the chair, held the jacket on each side of the zip and lifted it slightly, adjusting it on his shoulders, ‘this is mine.’
‘It’s