Page 44 of Tempting Promises
“Okay, I can help.”
I swear to God. “By the time you hobble over, I’ll be done.”
She huffs and stays put.
The walkie-talkie goes off. “Skittle Titties, this is Moist Beard. Come in.”
“Can you answer him?” I ask since I have a lot of wood in my hands.
That’s what she said.
“I’m not using your ridiculous names.”
I smirk. “Then he probably won’t respond.”
At least, I hope he won’t. Sawyer is as much of a smart-ass as I am, so I can imagine he’s irritating Faye as well.
Charlotte picks it up and speaks. “Sawyer, it’s Charlotte.”
“Angry Elf, can you read me, Moist Beard, over?”
“Sawyer, I can hear you.”
“This is Moist Beard, Angry Elf, I read you, can you confirm?”
I focus on the fire and not bursting out laughing.
Charlotte huffs. “I swearto God!”
Then Faye’s voice comes through. “Idiots. All of you. Charlotte, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. We’re in a cabin, and Rowan is getting a fire going.”
You can hear Faye’s relief when she responds. “Thank God, I’ve been so worried. Listen, the storm is going to be bad, they’re saying we’re going to be blanketed in ice for at least three days.”
Charlotte’s eyes meet mine. “Days?”
“We’ll be fine,” I assure her. I’m going to get this fire going and then get more wood because we definitely don’t have enough for days.
She steadies herself, and then talks to Faye as though the worry she just showed me never existed. “It’ll be fine. Rowan and I know what we’re doing, and we have shelter, food, and I’m sure we’ll both come out of this alive.”
Faye laughs. “I’m not so sure about that last one. Lord knows I may kill Sawyer if he keeps up with his stupid names.”
Yup. Totally pissing her off.
“You invited these tools,” Charlotte reminds her.
“Next time it’s just girls and no stupid hiking adventures on your own before an ice storm...and . . .”
Faye keeps going, lecturing her about the stupidity of her decision to go out hiking. Charlotte looks to me as she turns the volume down. “Can we shut this off to conserve batteries?”
I laugh and nod. “Toss it to me.” She does, and I press the alarm button, which will stop her from being able to talk. “Fancy Princess, this is Skittle Titties, can you ensure that Moist Beard and Deputy Dewey move my truck off the hill?”
There’s a pause. “Seriously, you’re all annoying.”
“Maybe, but you love us. Now, go let Moist Beard earn his name.”
“What?” And then it dawns on her. “You’re so gross! Take care of my girl.”
