Page 24 of Wild for You
CHAPTERTWELVE
Gwen
I wakefrom a restless night as the sun shines its morning glow on my face, a welcome change from last night’s storm. Glancing up, I see a sleeping Jack propped against the side of a rock. Somehow, he conjured me into crawling onto his lap like a frail kitten in the middle of the rainstorm. I shudder at my weakness, though his bulging leg muscles and strong biceps did make for a more comfortable night’s sleep than I’ve had in quite some time—though I’ll never tell him that.
I watch the sunrise, trying my best not to move and wake Jack. Not only does he need the extra rest, but selfishly, I want to savor this moment for myself. I can’t remember the last time I saw the sunrise and wasn’t rushing through traffic to make a flight or running down the busy downtown streets in stilettos to fix another celebrity fuck-up.
My life has been a constant rush repairing one public image to the next. Sure the money’s great, and I have a nice condo downtown, but on the rare occasion I’m not working, I’m either thinking about a client or planning my next move to gain one. It’s only now, lying in Jack’s lap after sleeping in a thunderstorm on an island in the middle of nowhere, that I realize what my busy life has become. I’ve spent every day chasing a dream that’s getting blurrier and blurrier with each day I spend on this island.
I let out a stale breath, horrified that I allowed Jack this close to me without brushing my teeth for over twenty-four hours. Dear Lord, what must I smell like? I have no mirror or way of checking my teeth. I probably had day-old fish eggs—that Jack insisted I try—wedged between my two front teeth while that fucker recorded me making fire for all the world to see.
I clench my fist, suddenly reminded of why I don’t need to let my guard down, and try my best to free myself from his death grip.
I lift a heavy arm from my torso, laying it down gently on the rock next to him, and roll down the length of his extended legs. When I’m finally free from his hold, I stand up and stretch my aching back from sleeping on the ground for two nights in a row—it’s going to take me at least three sessions with my masseuse to get these knots out—and begin scrambling through the backpack.
I’m looking for anything that remotely resembles toothpaste or a breath mint.
Searching the bag, I pull out the large camera equipment, random trash bags, petroleum jelly, some weird rock thing, as well as an assortment of beach trash he must’ve picked up along the way.
Who knew Jack Manning was a trash hoarder? I guess everyone has their thing, though.
When my search comes up empty, I take off to find a plant or something.
I remember Maggie used to have all these herbs and shit outside her apartment, and I think I remember what mint looks like.
I glance behind me, making sure Jack is still sleeping before I tiptoe through the dense shrubs, searching for anything to take the edge off my dragon breath.
After a thorough search, I finally find something resembling the mint plant. And who says I don’t know anything about botany? Maggie would be so proud of her protégé, forced or not. I shriek with excitement and grab the stem of a large leaf. Just as I begin to pull it free, I feel his large presence before I see him. It’s either that or I’m being hunted by a wild animal. Which, in that case, I’m done for. I don’t stand a chance fighting actual predators in the wild. I’d be a goner within seconds.
Jack clears his throat, interrupting my lucid daydream. “And just what are you planning on doing with poison ivy before the sun’s even completely risen?”
I drop the leaf and back away, remembering when I tried to run away in grade school and came home covered in welts from poison ivy. My mother had to cover me in calamine lotion three times a day for two weeks to keep me from clawing my skin off.
“I … um … I thought it was mint. I need to brush my teeth, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
He breathes a frustrated sigh, placing his hands on his hips. “Gwen, this isn’t a fucking joke, ok? When I ask you to stay with me, I mean it. Anything could be out here, and you’re just a—”
A stick breaks in the distance, and Jack goes quiet, stretching his arm out to me, gesturing for me to come close to him.
I roll my eyes and stand beside him, though it physically pains me to listen. I suppose I owe him a tiny bit of respect after the whole dirty water escapade.
“So, about that toothpaste—” I whisper.
“Shhhh!” Jack pushes me behind him, so he’s standing in front of the supposed threat. “There’s something out there, and if you could keep your damn mouth shut and let me figure this out, I will find you some fucking toothpaste!” he whispers.
He’s crouching now, straining to see what made the noise in the dense rainforest, and fuck, if it’s not hot watching him in his element. I fan myself behind him as heat shoots through my core. How am I supposed to react to a potential threat when all the blood in my body is swirling between my legs?
Another snap of a twig may as well sound like a whole tree falling in the early morning stillness, and I jump on Jack’s back. “Oh shit, ok, so there is something there.”
“Gwen, shit.” He struggles to pry my elbow from his throat, but I only suction myself tighter to his back, clenching my thighs around his waist. “Would you just get down for just a minute? I think I see something.”
I follow his finger and see a large Toucan bird sitting on a heavily covered tree branch nearby. It’s beautiful, like it’s right out of a movie, never something I thought I’d see in the wild.
“Oh my gosh!” I squeal! “Jack, it’s the Fruit Loop bird. Oh, wow, look how big its beak is!”
I slowly release my grip on him, letting my bare feet touch the soft grassy earth below, and tiptoe toward him to get a better look.
I gasp in wonder and walk even closer, ignoring Jack’s attempt to pull me away. “Tookie tookie!” I call, cupping my hands over my mouth, not sure why, but I saw it in a movie once, and well, what else are you supposed to say to a wild bird.
