Page 38 of Falling for the Enemy

“Actually, I meant to make sure not to cut one in half with that scythe, but yeah, your reason is good, too.” I giggled.

Jack glanced over his shoulder with a wry smile. The few days at camp had given him a nice, golden tan. As much as I hated to admit it, the man was really nice to look at. Sometimes it was hard to see it through the constant tension between us, past the scowls he always had ready for me, through the biased filter I always saw him through.

“Here’s the first cluster of cecropia trees. The ones over there with the large leaves and thin, pale trunks.”

Jack looked back again, this time with a raised brow.

“Right. I guess you probably already knew that.” We reached the trees. Jack had to clear some debris, so we could get close enough to see up into the branches. Two broad-billed motmots flew off as we neared the trunks. Buster stirred and grew livelier. At least lively for a sloth. “He smells something, but I don’t see anything, do you?” I had to keep Buster from snatching the trunk and crawling up to the top. If his mother wasn’t in the tree, he’d starve for sure. We had to find his mom.

Buster released tiny squeaks as we continued through the trees. Jack had to cut through vines and branches for us to get closer to the next cecropia tree. “This rainforest really took a beating,” Jack noted as he lifted a large branch off of the walking path.

I cradled my precious cargo as we walked deeper into the trees. Suddenly Buster started squeaking wildly. Jack and I stopped and surveyed all the trees around us. I chirped with joy when I spotted a sloth high up in the tree. The mother sloth turned her head slowly and made a squeaking sound in reply. I couldn’t hold back the tears. The near-death experience, the predicament we’d now found ourselves in, along with the overwhelming relief that we’d found the mother had finally kicked me into an emotional mess—not something that happened often.

I lifted Buster’s claws from my shirt … and skin … and was about to place him on the tree when Jack stopped me.

“Hold on, just want to say goodbye to the little guy.” Jack stroked his head. “Take care of yourself, Buster, and next time—hold onto your mom a little tighter, eh?”

“Be safe, Buster.” I put him on the trunk. The mother sloth was already starting anurgentdescent down the tree to her baby.

Jack and I stepped back far enough to watch without bothering them. We both chuckled at the slow-motion reunion.“We all need to take a page out of that sloth’s book,” Jack said. “We all race around with our hair on fire, never taking the time to just chill out.”

Buster reached his mom and immediately climbed onto her back. And then as if they’d never parted, she made her way back up to a branch and began chewing leaves.

I threw my arms up in the air. “Woohoo!” I turned around. Jack and I hugged. I stayed there for longer than a regular hug between colleagues, and it felt nice to have his secure arms around me for a second. Then I stepped back, and he looked disappointed.

“Oops, heat of the moment. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” Jack’s gaze held mine, and there was something comforting about it.

It was the last thing I expected him to say. I shook my head to pull myself from his magnetic gaze. “Oh wow, I’ve got to get back to Norm.”

I started to march purposefully back the way we came, but it wasn’t easy given the debris. Everything about the last few moments had flustered me, and knowing that it had flustered me had me even more … flustered.

In my purposeful march, I miscalculated the branch I was stepping over, and I stumbled forward and landed on my knees. Fortunately, I landed in soft debris, but I’d left my pride behind on that fallen branch.

Jack’s muddy boots appeared in front of me. “Not sure if I’m supposed to offer you a hand or if that will just send you racing through the forest like a scared rabbit.”

I pushed to my feet and stared up at him as I wiped off my knees. “You do take pleasure in seeing me make a fool of myself, don’t you?”

There it was again, that gaze that didn’t feel as cold and contentious as usual. “It’s just nice to know you’re mortal like the rest of us, Lo.”

I muttered a few choice words and pushed past him toward camp.

Chapter Twenty-Six

JACK

We’d had a moment in the rainforest, but it wasn’t our firstmoment. Our first moment was when I pulled Ava from the falling bridge. But Ava chose to ignore it, so I had no choice but to do the same. Still, the moments happened, and there was no way to erase them.

Ava had rehydrated chicken soup for Norm, and she stood over his cot checking his ankle. There was no ice, and Norm refused to be packed with cold mud, so Ava placed pillows from the other cots under his foot to elevate the ankle. I’d found a sturdy branch that was shaped somewhat like a cane, and Norm used it to get to the outhouse and back. It was hard to know just how severe the injury was because Norm was not exactly stoic. Still, a sprained ankle was never fun and eventually getting him out of camp and across the river was going to come with its own challenges.

I decided to make myself useful by starting a fire. The sun was setting, and the storm had left a slight chill in the air. Finding kindling dry enough to start a fire wasn’t easy, but some of the lighter branches and leaves had dried enough in the sun that I managed to get some weak sputtering flames going. I’d moved the sitting logs back into place, and I sat down tokeep working the fire with a stick. An hour later, there were wavering flames in the pit, and the sun had disappeared off the horizon. Ava had avoided me, but the camp was small, and we were bordered on one side by a raging river of water that was only starting to recede and on the other side by an untamed rainforest made even less passable by the storm. It seemed the warm fire had been enough to coax her outside. She’d pulled on a thin sweatshirt over her tank top and shorts. She dropped her long, tanned legs over the sitting log one at a time, and I found myself staring at those legs until she sat down next to me.

“Getting hungry?” she asked.

“Yes, but for real food, not the powdered stuff in the mess tent. Somehow Hollywood makes being stranded on a tropical island far more glamorous.”

Ava laughed. “Guess this pile of mud we’re on isn’t exactly glamorous. But at least we got the tropical part right.”

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