Look What the Wind Blew In (38 page)

His smile made her forget about how much it hurt to say goodbye to her crew this morning. “In my line of work, tripod carriers are a dime a dozen.” He wiped his hands off on his pants and picked up the hammer and chisel again. “What I need is a beautiful woman experienced in exotic dancing and intimate massage. Interviews will be held later in my tent if you’re interested in applying.”

… Two hours later, Angélica stopped hammering for a moment and reached for the water jug. She pushed against the loosened stone with her boot. The block shifted in its bed.

“If only this wall was outside,” she told Quint. “The exposure to the elements would have made this job much easier.” She gulped down the water and then splashed some on her face.

“Whatever possessed you to marry Steel?” Quint asked, his voice soft, like he’d woken from a dream.

His question stopped her short. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, lying on his side about three feet away, his head propped up on his elbow as he watched her.

She lowered the water, slowly twisting the cap on as several answers played through her mind. In the end, she settled on the truth: “I was pregnant.”

“Whoa.”

She stared blankly at the block they were working on, slipping into the past.

“We’d been engaged for several months before tying the knot, so it wasn’t like it was a shotgun wedding or anything. I never told my parents about the baby.”

“Why not?”

“When I first told Jared, he insisted on secrecy and pushed me to marry him as soon as possible. At the time, I thought he was being romantic.” She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. “Looking back, I see how naïve I was. He was worried about his reputation and what his colleagues would say about him having a pregnant fiancée.”

“Have I mentioned my dislike for your ex-husband?”

She doubted Quint’s feelings for Jared came close to hers after the bullshit he’d put her through.

“I lost the baby in the third month, about two weeks after our wedding. At the time I was devastated, but now I realize how fortunate it was for all parties involved.” She let out a hollow chuckle. “Jared isn’t exactly the best father material.”

“He’s certainly no Andy Griffith.”

The memory of how brokenhearted and alone she’d felt at the time still made her feel melancholy. “I don’t think he would have let me walk away from him so easily if we’d had a child.”

“He didn’t own you.”

“No, but I did let him run my life for a while.” She realized suddenly what she’d just disclosed and to whom. “Anyway,” she waved off the concern on Quint’s face, “it’s ancient history—my specialty.”

“Did you ever tell your parents about the baby? Even after you left Steel?”

She shook her head. “Only Jared and I knew about it.”

And now Quint. She hit him with a warning glare. “I’d rather nobody else found out either, if you get my point.”

“Not a word, I promise.” He placed his hand over his heart.

“Thank you.” She wiped away the drop of sweat making a beeline for her eye and then lifted the chisel again.

“Why’d you tell me that?” His voice stopped her.

She wasn’t completely sure. “I guess I wanted you to know the truth about why I married Jared.”

He flinched slightly and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I know how much you detest him,” she continued, “and I wanted you to understand the main motivation that drove me to the altar. Had it not been for the baby, I probably would’ve come to my senses before taking that vow.” She focused back on the wall, feeling all kinds of foolish for sharing something so personal.

“Why else did you tell me?”

“There is no other reason.”

“Your father told me that you only trust those you care about.”

A red-hot blush made her sweat all anew. “My father causes me a lot of grief.” She was going to duct tape his mouth shut if he didn’t stop giving details about her. She shoved the chisel toward him. “Enough talking. It’s your turn.”

He grabbed the chisel and took her place. “Let’s clear the air on another truth before I start.”

“Okay, shoot.” She tried to brace herself for whatever was to come, schooling her face.

“I understand why you married Steel. I understand even more why you divorced him. But in case you think I have an issue with your past love life, you need to get it through that overly brainy head of yours that I don’t.” He ran his finger down her cheek. “My only concern since I met you is who comes next.”

She had little doubt, but the suspected consequences kept getting in the way. For now she needed to keep her focus on finding the shell.

“You want to know who’s next?” She batted her eyelashes at him, needing to diffuse the sexual tension that filled the chamber before she did something really, really stupid. “Well, I do have a few candidates in mind.”

He laughed and focused back on the wall, raising the chisel. “Let’s hurry up and find that damned shell.”

Chapter Twenty

Descubrimiento: Discovery.

They’d come so close, Angélica thought later that evening. She sat at her desk inside of her tent, her head in her hands. How in the hell was she going to figure out a way to get that damned loose stone out over the lip that was blocking it without bringing the whole wall down? She’d have to take her dad in there tomorrow without raising Jared’s curiosity. Or maybe she could wake him later and they could go in the middle of the …

“Angélica,” Quint’s voice came from the other side of the tent flap. “I need to talk to you.”

A glance at the dirty clothes, books, artifacts, and notes strewn around her tent made her wrinkle her nose. She decided to meet him outside, stepping out into the sticky night air.

The lantern light filtering out through the mesh flap cast a soft glow across Quint. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down, giving her a glimpse of his chest.

“I had an idea while I was showering,” he told her.

She dragged her gaze north. With his wavy hair slicked back and a couple days’ worth of stubble on his chin, he looked good enough to eat. She probably shouldn’t have skipped supper again.

Pretending she wasn’t thinking about joining him in the shower some time, she played along. “An idea about what?”

“How we can move that block out of there without having the wall collapse on us,” he said in a quiet voice and glanced around suspiciously. “Can we go inside your tent to discuss this?”

Oh, hell no. Besides her tent being a pit, she stank like three-day-old underwear and didn’t doubt she’d do something to embarrass herself within minutes. “How about we go in yours instead?”

He led the way.

When they were zipped inside, she made sure to keep a safe distance between them. “Okay, tell me how we can get it unstuck.” She kept her voice low to be safe.

“We use a bar with a rope tied around it.”

“I don’t follow.”

He hung his towel from a hook on one of the tent poles. “We’ll need to chisel out about two to three feet of the floor in front of the block in order to remove that lip and make the floor level with the surface under the block. Then we’ll shove the bar through that hole we made today and pull the block out using the rope.”

She cocked her head to the side, weighing his idea. “I think we have some pieces of rebar left over from a project years ago. It’s behind the Temple of the Crow. Maybe there’s a piece small enough to use for this.”

He leaned against the pole with his towel hung on it. “Rebar would work perfectly. It’s strong, and the texture of it would help the rope stay in place when we shove the bar through.”

“All right then.” She unzipped the tent flap, needing to leave his tent before she licked something more than her dry lips. “We have a plan. Meet me tomorrow at six outside the mess tent. We’ll get an early start on this.”

He followed her outside. “Where’s the fire?”

“No fire.” She cleared her throat, trying to get that telling husky sound out of her voice. “I feel dirty and gritty is all. Seeing you fresh from the shower makes me want to go take one myself.”

“You need any help?”

He must have been reading her mind.

Her body hummed at the thought of him joining her. But sex with Quint would lead to nothing but trouble, not to mention that her father, pseudo big brother, and ex-husband were all within hearing distance of the shower.

She hid her hankerings behind a lightweight smile. “Nice try, Parker. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She felt his gaze on her as she returned to her tent. When she stepped back outside with her towel and some clean clothes in hand, he was gone, his tent zipped up tight.

Showering in the dark usually didn’t bother her, but with all of the attacks on her crew lately, she didn’t linger.

Her thoughts returned to Quint as she stepped into her underwear. He’d worked hard today without complaint, not even as the day wore on and the heat climbed inside the temple to a melting point. She pulled on the tank top she slept in, the cotton soft on her skin now cooled from the cold water she’d used to rinse off.

Not a single grumble as he worked, she mused as she towel dried her hair. And tonight he was still trying to help her, even willing to return tomorrow and sweat his ass off again. Why? What would make him go back into what she’d heard him previously refer to as a hell hole and death trap?

She wrapped the towel around her waist and slid into her shower flip-flops, combing her hair with her fingers. As she walked in the dark back to her tent, she ruminated about his quickness to laugh, her eagerness to share her hopes and ideas about this place with him.

When she drew near his tent, she slowed, listening for any sounds coming from inside.

His cot creaked.

Papers rustled.

Her feet came to a stop in front of his door flap.

Don’t be an idiot
, the logical voice in her head said.
He’s a crewmember. Off limits. End of story.

But what if he was something more? She opened her mouth to say his name, but then pinched her lips together.

You take this step and there’s no going back
, the voice warned.
It can’t be undone.

She looked over at her tent, knowing what waited for her inside of those canvas walls. It was the same thing that waited for her every night while she lay awake, alone in that cot, fretting about her dad’s health, her mom’s reputation, her future, and those unfulfilled dreams for something more.

Your father is just across the way, right next to your ex-husband. Besides, what if he rejects you? How will you work with him tomorrow and the next day? You need his help more than his body.

She glanced around in the darkness, not seeing any movements, not hearing anything beyond the jungle’s regular nightly soundtrack.

Go back to your tent and bury your head in your work like usual. He’s not worth taking this risk.

Before the voice she’d listened to for so many long, lonely nights convinced her otherwise, she grabbed the zipper of his tent and opened it.

He looked up from where he lay on the cot reading from a notebook, his eyes wide in surprise. “What’s up?”

She unzipped the mesh bug flap and stepped inside.

Sitting up, he dropped the notebook on the floor on top of some yellowed newspaper clippings and a handwritten letter. “What’s wrong?”

She put her index finger to her lips, shushing him, and then zipped both flaps closed.

When she turned to face him, he was standing, his face lined with a mixture of concern and confusion. “What’s going on?” he whispered. “Did you hear something out there? Do you want me to go take a look?”

His feet were bare. So were his legs. He stood there in his black briefs, ready to go to battle for her if she yelled
Charge!
That was some heady shit.

She shushed him again with her finger against her lips.

Her gaze traveled to his shirtless chest, her eyes trailing along the ridges and plains partially hidden by a sprinkling of hair that arrowed south.

Raising her eyes to his, she dropped her towel on the floor. Before she could lose her nerve, she followed it with her tank top.

In the quiet of the night, she heard him suck his breath in through his teeth. His focus lowered, locking onto her bared skin for so long that she wondered if she’d made yet another mistake with a man. There’d be no living with that damned voice in her head now.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Angélica, there’s something I need to tell you before I get sidetracked.”

She shook her head, pretending to zip her lips closed. Then she held open her arms and waited.

“Sweet Jesus,” he said. His chest lifted and fell visibly. His face contorted, fists clenching, a battle apparently waging within.

Her nerve started to wane, uncertainty filling her.

“I tried,” he muttered to himself with a shake of his head. “Mark my words.” Then he was across the tent, yanking her against him, his lips coming down hard on hers.

His hunger matched hers kiss for kiss. She linked her arms around his neck, leaning into him, letting him hold her up. His hands were everywhere at once, skimming down along her chest to her waist, up to her neck, and then returning to slide over her hips. Squeezing, cupping, pulling her even closer.