Page 43 of Haze of Obedience
I bet.
Get your head out of the gutter.
"I'll see you later." I hug Vanessa, and Dirk puts his hand on my back, sending more heat to my core, and guides me out of the tent and into the woods.
There's a path that isn't too dense, but not very wide, so we step side by side. We move deeper into the woods, and the afternoon light fades.
Usually, I don't have a problem with talking, but we've spent most of the journey silent. With no one else around, my stomach is a pool of nerves.
"Jaguar," Dirk mumbles.
"What? Where?" I move closer, so I'm touching him.
He softly laughs. "Calm down. Those footprints." He points at the tracks in the mud.
"You're such a country boy."
"I have been all over the world, you know," he says.
"Can take the boy out of the country but not the country out of the boy," I tease.
Stop flirting!
His jaw clenches. "There's nothing wrong with having survival skills."
My voice falls flat. "I didn't say there was."
"Could have fooled me," he mutters.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Forget I said anything."
"No. If you're going to say something, then spit it out."
"Spit it out? Because that's what someone from the country would do? Spit like a hillbilly?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I know you're big city and all, but I happen to be proud of how my family raised me."
What's he talking about?
"I didn't say anything about how your family raised you."
He snorts and speaks in Spanish. "Whatever, Zoe. I know what you think of me."
What I think of him?
I stop, cross my arms, and speak in Spanish, too. "Mind filling me in?"
We continue speaking in Spanish.
"You think I'm podunk," he accuses.
"Why would I think that?"
"Since I was raised in a rural area."
