Page 49 of Love By a Landslide

“It’s the near-death experience we had the other day. Makes everything taste better.” Jonathan said, completely deadpan.

Lucy snorted. “So it seems.”

“How’d you sleep last night?”

“Pretty well. I barely remember closing my eyes, then I was out.”

“It was the near—”

“Yeah, I know, the near-death experience,” Lucy interrupted him.

“I was going to say nearness to such a hottie.” He gestured up and down himself. “I’ve been told I am very snuggly.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced away. “Hot is right. I was sweating like a maniac all night.”

All right, pal. We talked about this. Ease off the flirting throttle.

Jonathan cleared his throat. “You were warned.”

“I was.”

Once they finished eating, Jonathan inspected their water supply. There wasn’t much left, certainly not enough to sustain them for the day. If the temperature was anything like the day before, it was going to be warm, at least mid-seventies. Finding a water source was at the top of the to-do list.

Jonathan replaced the bottles in his pack and rose to his feet. Unfolding the map, he scanned the region, looking for the nearest lake or stream, utterly unaware of a stray water bottle lying in the dirt. His purposeful stride came down squarely on the Nalgene. His foot flew out from under him, knocking the wind from his lungs as he landed hard on his back.

“Jonathan!” Lucy screeched, scrambling to kneel beside him.

“Fuck, that hurt,” he ground out through clenched teeth, eyes held tightly shut.

“Here, let’s get you up.”

“Give me a minute.” He raised a hand to halt her. The shock of the fall dazed him. He labored a moment to pull in air and was eventually breathing steadily. Relaxing his body, he opened his eyes.

And lost his breath all over again.

A radiant goddess, face smudged with dirt and eyes full of worry, hovered over him. The low morning sun backlit a curtain of warm carob hair, illuminating glimmers of gold among the waves and tangles. Freckles and pink adorned her cheeks, evidence of sun exposure from the day before.

“How can I help?” A sweet, husky voice wobbled with nervous energy. Straight white teeth worried over her soft lower lip.

“I need—” The words came out in a prepubescent squeak. He cleared his throat. “I need to sit up.”

She nodded, clasping his outstretched hand and wrapping her other arm behind his broad shoulders as best as she could. “On three, we’ll work together. Ok?”

“Yep.” His clipped tone was a cocktail of pain and awe.

“Here we go. One. Two. Three.”

He relied on her efforts, only able to contribute so much as his lower back tensed in complaint. Sitting upright, Jonathan cursed. He reached his hands around and prodded the angry muscles.

“Shit. You’re . . . you’re really hurt,” Lucy stuttered. Her eyes were wide. She scanned his body as if trying to decide if she could manage to carry him out of the woods. Her deflated expression showed she knew it would be impossible.

“I get muscle spasms sometimes.”

“Can you walk? How long does it last? Would it help if I carried the pack? Do you want me to—”

Jonathan raised a hand to stop the rapid-fire questions. He needed to think. A few years ago, he’d seriously strained his back while helping his mom tear down an old shed in her backyard. He’d taken a few ibuprofen and ignored the pain. The next morning, he had to literally roll off his bed and army crawl to where his phone was plugged in. Miguel took him to the ER. It was a slipped disk, but fortunately, it was minor enough that surgery wasn’t necessary.

“My lower back acts up from time to time. If I relax for a while, it’ll quiet down.”

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