Page 29 of The Wanted One

“Chivalry hasn’t died, huh?” Lucy asked him, and with the lights on us, I caught an innocent smile flicker across Mason’s lips that came and went fast.

Shit, if we wound up staying through this thing, my sister was going to actually fall for someone. As long as it wasn’t for someone twice her age, like Carter, I supposed worse things could happen.

“You know, this look works for you,” Gwen interrupted my thoughts, and I followed her eyes to the man standing next to her in his black briefs and rubber boots.

Carter stepped into the shadows, his tone almost fatherly, as he snapped back, “We need to focus on getting across the bridge right now.”

“Yes, sir,” Gwen replied with a smile.

Why’d it feel like she just poked a grizzly? Well, in our case here, a jaguar. Much more fitting for the man, too. Sleek. Terrifying. Deadly, even. And he’d so much as admitted to killing someone during his inquisition. We have that in common, huh?

“We should go across barefoot,” Carter continued, ignoring Gwen’s “sir,” as he stepped back into the light and began removing his boots. Without waiting for anyone to agree, he went over to the two ropes on one side anchored to nearby thick trees, and he gave the top rope a tug. The bridge did a little wave, swaying to the side, and one board in the middle immediately detached without much effort and fell to the river below.

“That’s a bad sign,” Lucy said as he tested the bottom rope, then moved on to the other side for a check.

“I think the ropes are durable. We need to avoid the actual steps,” Carter said, turning back to face our team.

“It’s narrow enough that if we straddle the bridge and place one foot on each rope, then hold the top one we can, in a sense, tightrope our way across without using the shitty boards,” Oliver suggested.

“That’s what I’m thinking.” Carter’s gaze went to Gwen as he said, “Your dress is fine.” He looked at me and Lucy next. “But you two need to lose a few inches. The material will get in your way when you spread your legs.”

“That sounded so fucking wrong.” Oliver chuckled, but Carter seemed to ignore him and brush off his comment.

“I’ve got you two covered,” Mason said, producing a pocketknife. He shrugged as he peeled open the blade. “Snuck it in. Thought it might come in handy during the game.”

“Marines,” Oliver said under his breath.

“Can you help me cut my dress?” my sister asked him, and Mason gave her a hesitant nod, then knelt before her.

Her dress was like mine, and I winced at how much he cut away and where he put his hands on her to do it.

Shit. I didn’t have any panties on; so, when Mason started my way, I shot my palm up to stop him. “I can do that myself, thanks.”

He gave me the knife, and I wound up making a mess of the bottom of my dress but didn’t remove anything, just poked a bunch of ragged holes in the fabric.

“Can I please help you?” Jack asked, his tone surprisingly soft.

I checked the location of the rest of our team, relieved to find them talking near the entrance of the bridge, testing the strength of the ropes again.

“No panties,” I reminded him. “Do your best not to accidentally touch me there.”

He dropped to one knee before me, knife now in hand, then looked up. “Did I try and touch you there last time?” he murmured.

I planted my hands on his bare shoulders when he began to rip the fabric. I didn’t need to fall and accidentally get stabbed. “No, you didn’t,” I relented.

“So, why would I do it here?” When I kept quiet, he added, “You should just trust me.” He paused for a second before tossing out, “Right, forgot. Trust is off the table.”

“Your sarcasm is noted. And not appreciated,” I grumbled as he finished the job of shortening my dress with efficient movements. When he was back on his feet, he closed the knife, and I couldn’t help ask, “Learn to do that in the Army?”

“Sarcasm. Noted,” he echoed back, then dipped his head, bringing his mouth to my ear. “And yes, I was in the Army, sweetheart.”

“Is the Southern accent even real?” The Texas drawl was unmistakable, but could have been part of his act and I’d never know. I’d watched a lot of Walker, Texas Ranger, Dad’s favorite show when I was little. For whatever reason, it was always the seemingly insignificant things I remembered about him more than anything else.

With Jack’s mouth still lingering near my ear, he responded in a deep voice, “Everything about me is real.” Then he pulled away and turned his back, choosing to be done with me for now. His turn to walk away.

“Ready?” Lucy waved me over, and I did my best to pull myself together and join everyone by the bridge.

The other two teams came back over, and I had to assume they’d all already discussed their own strategies to cross the bridge. Of course, maybe it’d be their luck they never had to try.

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