Page 74 of The Accidental Honeymoon

Jay looks me over. He’s not leering, just… appreciating. "You look great," he says.

“I look out of place.” I look around at all the women in their bikini tops and sports bras. Not one single gray underwire bra in the group.

“I’d rather be wherever you’re going.” He grins at me.

Why, oh why, does my heart do a somersault in response?

Before I can respond, a whistle blows and we're off.

The first obstacle is a mud pit. Everyone leaps in like a pack of deranged lemmings. The mud is thick and cloying. My feet instantly feel like they’re encased in concrete. I take one step and faceplant, the muck slurping hungrily at my body.

Strong hands pull me up. Jay is laughing. I’m embarrassed and I want to be angry, but his laughter is infectious. I wipe mud from my face, smearing it worse, and start to giggle.

"We're going to crush this," he says, though it’s obvious we’re dead last already.

“I like the optimism.”

We trudge through the next set of obstacles: a slippery balance beam that I crawl across on all fours, a wall of used tires, a frame made of cargo netting. On the last one, Jay reaches down and lifts me up with shocking ease. Each time he touches me, little electric shocks through my body remind me of our private mountain sex. Of his hands, and his mouth, and?—

I slip in the mud.Focus, Calla.

We reach another mud pit, and I hesitate. I don’t know how shallow it is. I don’t know if there are creatures lurking at the bottom, ready to snatch at my feet. Jay notices my pause and takes my hand.

"Together," he says. “Come on!”

I’m not the type of person to just blindly take a leap. But Jay is doing it. Somehow, I am certain that he wouldn’t jump into a snake-infested mud pit.

I close my eyes, nod tightly, and squeeze his hand as I jump.

The mud explodes all around us and we land in a tangle of limbs. I expect it to be cold, but it’s warm from the sun. We struggle to our feet, laughing.

For a moment it feels like we’re an actual team. Like we’re figuring this out together, even if it’s just for now.

A shout goes up from the crowd. We turn to see a tiny, wiry woman barreling toward us. She looks like she was born in a trailer park and raised on a diet of scrap metal and moonshine. She’s a force of nature, and she’s holding a makeshift flag.

"Move it, lovebirds!" she yells. We sidestep just in time as she streaks past, mud flying in her wake. She crosses the finish line, and the crowd goes wild, hooting and hollering.

Jay and I look at each other, panting. He shrugs. I start to laugh. A deep, uncontrollable laugh that wipesaway all the tension of the last twenty-four hours. He joins in.

“We can still make it to the finish line. Team Last Place!” I suggest.

We make our way to the finish line, hand in hand. At the end of the race, many of our competitors stand waiting for us. They’re watching us until we cross the line and then hollering bloody murder when we do.

When we pass over the checkered line, Jay cheers, picking me up and kissing me. I grin as that grizzled woman waves her flag victoriously. Jay high-fives her, still holding me up. "Nice run," he says and she cackles.

I retrieve my purse and try to wipe my hands clean before digging in, but it’s no use. "Here," Jay says, handing me his shirt. I take it, grateful, and pat myself down as best I can.

"That was…actually kind of fun," I admit. “Disgusting, but fun.”

"Told you. We make a good team.”

We start to walk back to the parking lot, leaving a trail of muddy footprints. The film crew catches up. I realize I don’t even mind them right now.

Let them film. Let them see.

Jay slows and turns to me. "Calla, about what I was trying to say earlier?—"

I hold my breath.

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