#Forfeit: The Ultimate Game of Dares (Rewrite)

Chapter One

© Caroline Batten, 2014.

Please respect that I spent a lot of hours creating this work of genius.  Or at least respect that I took the time to type it and post it here for people to read.  And if you have that respect, you won't go copying or stealing my words.  And if you don't have that respect... Lord help you. ;) 

I'll be posting the first 30% or so of Forfeit here as a taster for the full thing which will be available to buy as eBook and paperback in July.

   

#fail

It was the hashtag of her twenty-five year-old life, but from the safety of her sunglasses, Daisy Fitzgerald studied the guys warming up to bat in the village cricket finals and her smile grew. Hiking boots, cagoules and ruddy faced farmers who were overly familiar with their sheep – that’s what she expected when she moved to the Lake District, not eleven pieces of calendar-worthy eye candy. Well, ten – Daisy couldn’t include Clara’s fiancé, Scott, in her mental pin-up.

‘Where did Scott find these blokes?’ Daisy asked. ‘There can’t be a guy in the Miller’s Arms’ team who I’d rate less than a seven.’

‘Check out the opposition, hot or what?’ Clara replied, nodding to their left.

The nearest fielder bent down to tighten his laces and flashed more hairy bum crack than Daisy ever needed to see.

Repressing a shudder, she turned back to the batsmen. They were in a circle, attentively listening as Scott, their captain, discussed team tactics. ‘What I want, is some ego boost flirting.’

‘And the rest. What you need is a shag. It’s been a while.’

‘Six months hardly makes me a born-again virgin.’

‘You sure?’ Clara grinned for a second, but her face soon turned serious. ‘How did it go?’

‘I need a drink.’

‘That good?’

As they headed towards the beer tent, Daisy shed her bank-manager appeasing jacket. ‘He laughed at me, actually laughed at me. The idea of a business loan raised a smirk, but when I mentioned a mortgage, he nearly choked on his tea.’

‘Did he offer you any money?’

‘Not even an overdraft, so that’s a deposit on the bakery cottage out of the window.’

‘Then I have good news. Scott’s found you a house share. It’s with the brother of his best–’

‘Like I want to live with some skanky bloke.’ Daisy swore as she nearly turned her ankle avoiding a cowpat. Her enormous wedge heels were as utterly out of place as her skinny black trousers and vest top. All the other girls wore flip flops and chiffon blouses, the absolute only thing to wear with denim shorts that summer. ‘He’ll expect me to do all the cleaning while he sits around playing on his Xbox.’

‘Beggars, choosers?’

An excellent point, perfectly delivered. Without the twelve hundred pounds she needed for a deposit and first month’s rent, even a dingy flat in the worst part of Haverton looked beyond Daisy’s means. Surely coexisting with some bloke, even a Neanderthal who watched TV with his hands down his pants, had to be better than moving back in with her parents, effectively admitting defeat at her attempt to be a self-sufficient adult.

‘Anyway, he’s–’ Clara held up a hand, shielding the sun from her eyes as the Millers’ Arms huddle broke up. ‘The game’s starting. Go and take some pics of Scott.’