Page 10 of Tangled With the Wrong Guy
Well, it had been a long time. Almost exactly a year.
He looked up at her, and the pink in his cheeks intensified. ‘Sorry. I don’t usually … I mean, I’m not … You should probably get off. We need to think of a plan B.’
Now she was throbbing. Although maybe the ache was this insistent because she too needed a wee.
She slid off him and resumed her original position, sitting by his side, willing her body to calm down.
Her eyes lit on her backpack, still lying where she’d dropped it earlier. ‘Plan B,’ she said, grateful for the distraction. ‘What about … my keys.’
She managed to hook the backpack with a foot and pulled it towards her, scowling as she spotted the splatters of vomit on its leather. After struggling to unzip it with one hand, she fished around until she found them. Then, putting all the energy she had strangely acquired into her task, she set about attacking the cling wrap, starting between Joel’s torso and his left arm. The keys made a satisfyingcrackeach time they pierced the plastic.
‘Go girl,’ he said, grinning.
She flung all her emotion from today into the assault, all that hurt and anger, stabbing and tearing at the plastic again and again, and when she’d made a large hole she pulled at it some more with her free hand until finally it split open, and Joel’s arm emerged, like a butterfly’s wing.
He gave it a good shake, then they set about ripping off the rest of the cling wrap. The moment his other arm came free he grabbed Chloe in a one-armed hug, saying, ‘You beauty!’ He got to his feet, shucking off the last of the plastic. ‘And now Ireallyneed to … ah,’ he said, as the chain tightened, preventing him from straightening. ‘You’ll have to look away.’
He held out his free hand and helped her up.
Chapter Four
Joel was suddenly different, this unbent, almost-sober version that had burst out of the cocoon. He was tall and lean; her nose reached only as high as his broad shoulders and, perhaps surprisingly, there was an energy about him.
He looked around him with new interest, took a deep, appreciative breath, then smiled down at her. ‘Way to go, Chloe! Sorry, really gotta …’ Now he was unzipping his jeans. Presumably that … what had happened, was no longer a problem. She closed her eyes and attempted to block the unbidden image of it springing free.
‘I need to as well,’ she said, after he’d zipped himself up. ‘Can we go behind there?’ She cocked her head towards a bush.
‘Why? I promise to shut my eyes.’
‘Yes, please do. But I don’t want to wee here. It would be disrespectful to Jim.’
He let out a bark of laughter. ‘That’s sweet, Chloe, but I’m guessing Jim wouldn’t mind a bit. I mean, people think leaving chewing gum is a fitting tribute – he’d probably be delighted with your offering. Maybe he even approves of my vomit. The dude wasn’t a stranger to alcohol, right?’
She couldn’t help laughing. ‘You have a point. Okay, shut your eyes, then.’
When she’d finished he said, ‘Vomit and wee. We have done Jim proud today.’
Before she could stop herself, she said, ‘Just a condom for the full set.’
He raised his eyebrows, and she felt the heat rise up her neck. ‘What I mean is … apparently people leave them here. As a tribute.’ She groped for words to dig herself out of this hole. ‘Do you really think your mates aren’t coming back?’
He looked her in the eye. ‘You know what? I don’t want them to. I want to be spared the rest of it. Let’s just find a way out of here and go find a gendarmerie or someone who can unlock this thing.’ He looked down at their wrists. ‘We’ve probably got another hour of daylight, right?’
She scowled. ‘I don’t have my phone, so I don’t know what time it is. Could we climb up there?’ She looked up at the tomb roof where it lay.
‘Tricky.’
There was no way up that didn’t involve tree climbing, which presumably would be somewhat problematical, attached as they were.
‘My phone was about to die, anyway,’ she said, remembering.
‘Well at least it’s in the right place to do that,’ he said. ‘I’ll fetch it tomorrow, get it back to you before I leave.’
‘You will?’
‘I’m responsible for all this; I’ll clear up the mess.’
Damn. Joel wasn’t an idiot. He was a gent, and his brain was just fine. Joel was nice. Joel waslovely. Mrs-Joel-to-be was a lucky woman.
