Page 90 of Chasing Paradise

Wick took it from me, using the tiny knife of his multi-tool to cut around the edges so he could pull the sheet of cardboard free.

“Lemme see your foot,” he said, and I put it on top of his leg so he could size me up. “These feet belong to a sprite, not a bounty hunter,” he said, seeming pleased that he could fold the cardboard in half to double its strength. “How many bras did you bring with you?”

“Why?”

“I figured maybe the straps would be a way to keep the shoes on your feet. Especially if we end up needing to run again.”

I rummaged in my backpack for the purple bra I’d been wearing on Isla Perdita.

“What’s up?” he asked when I stared at the bra.

“Doesn’t the island feel like a thousand years ago?” I asked. “Remember when I was bitching about plentiful fruit trees and endless water to clean off in?”

“We can go back after this, if you want. Or not,” he said when I shot him a look.

“I want one night in a luxury hotel room with endless soap and shampoo, a TV, tons of food and coffee, and a huge bed before I have to think about anything else.”

“I can make that happen,” he assured me. “Though I’ve gotten kind of fond of the hammock now.”

The heat in his gaze made a little fire spark inside me. But it was going to have to smolder out. Because I wasn’t touching anyone that caked in mud, or letting someone touch me when I was so filthy either.

“The hammock wasn’t as bad as I thought,” I admitted. We both knew I wasn’t talking about the hammock.

“I’m touched, duchess,” Wick said, pressing a hand to his chest. “Such high praise.”

“Hey, I was pretty much cursing your existence for the first few days, so this is a lot of progress,” I quipped.

But the fact of the matter was, there was a lot I wasn’t saying. There were a lot of feelings that I’d barely managed to acknowledge, let alone wrap my head around.

“That’s true. And I did make you believe we were stranded on an island…”

“I wonder how Hank is doing,” I said as I watched Wick get to work on my replacement shoe.

“Eating bugs, enjoying the sunshine, missing your chest…”

I smiled as I carefully reorganized his pack, then did the work of squeezing out the water filter into our bottles before moving out to fill the bag back up with the waterfall water.

By the time I was done with all of that, Wick had something resembling a shoe forged out of duct tape, cardboard, my bra strap, and, it seemed, the cut-up material of one of my socks.

“Did yousewthat in?” I asked, inspecting his work.

“I had the kit,” Wick said, shrugging off his work. “Want to try it on?” he asked, holding it out for me to slip my foot into.

It was a snug fit, but in a not-unpleasant way, but more so a way that made me confident it would stay on my foot no matter how fast the pace was.

“This is great,” I said, flexing my foot. “Thank you.”

“While I wouldn’t mind piggybacking you, this will let us keep our usual pace.”

“Yeah, I think… oh myGod,” I gasped, whacking Wick across the chest.

“What?” he asked, looking at me while my gaze focused out of the waterfall.

“Look!” I said, literally crawling closer to the water to see better. “It’s those giant guinea pig things.”

“Capybaras?” Wick asked, crawling up beside me to look out as one of them walked over to the water’s edge to sip.

“Oh!” I gasped when another walked out to join her. Then, a second later, a whole group of baby ones came forward. I swear my heart melted. “Listen, I know we have to respect the environment and animals belong in the wild and blah blah blah… But I want to throw one in my backpack and smuggle it out of here.”

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