“Are you?” I retort, still trying not to laugh.
He rolls his eyes and moves to pick up the box again. With almost comical reverence, he opens the lid, lifting the tissue paper to reveal the stone spearhead. His hand immediately covers his mouth, his eyes not wavering from the object.
I wet my lips, leaning in. “What is it? Is it what you thought it was?”
My eyes roam his face, then trace over the artifact, trying to see something in it I might have missed. He tortures me with his silence as his wheels turn.
“I’ll take any kind of response, by the way,” I continue when he doesn’t answer. “What’s going on? How do we feel about the object in question? Are we pleased right now? Sad? Constipated?”
He’s still speechless as he takes the artifact from the box and turns it over in his hands.
The Lord is testing me. Is patience something I also need to learn this trip? This broody man’s lack of answers make me feel like the biggest Gen Z, culture-of-instant brat, and I’m not liking this side of myself.
Jack finally puts me out of my misery, letting out a heavy sigh before speaking. “It’s even more valuable than I thought. Tomy knowledge, this is the most intact Clovis point ever found in the Grand Canyon. It’s also made from green obsidian, which means it’s incredibly old and obscenely rare.”
“Oh.” I frown, the silence growing while we both draw the obvious conclusions. “That’s good and bad, right?” I continue after a minute. “I mean,yayfor science, but this means those people who want it, really,reallywant it.”
His eyes finally blink up at me, brows drawn together. “Yeah.”
And then he’s carefully closing the box, nestling it into his backpack. In two seconds, he’s out of the tent and swinging his bag onto his back. “I need to send a message from my ranger phone. I can’t make calls on it, but I can text. I’m not sure who to trust with this, ‘cause there’s a chance someone on the inside is involved.” He retrieves his hat from the pole, doing that tapping against his thigh thing. He opens his mouth to speak, then pauses, eyes roving the ground before continuing. “You should come with me. I don’t wanna leave you alone here, but I need to get to a more reliable spot to make sure my message will go through.”
“Okay.” I nod, climbing out far less gracefully than he did. “I also need to pee, but I can do that without you watching, right?” I flutter my eyelashes teasingly.
He clenches his jaw. “You should take this more seriously.”
“It’s hard to be serious with someone whose last name I don’t know, Jack Turner.”
He turns, hiking his backpack higher on one shoulder. “Keep guessing, Princess.”
I stifle the moan that wants to squeak out. I guess I’m a sucker for nicknames.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Avoid the mirror, avoid the mirror, avoid the mirror.
I repeat the words in my head like a mantra as I exit the bathroom stall. My eyes remain lowered when I approach the sink as if I’m ashamed of my own reflection. I made a pact with myself not to be concerned with my appearance, and I’m sticking to it, even though I’m dying to pretty myself up just a little. And, yes, it’s one hundred percent because of my broody hiking chaperone.
Imagine going on a date with the hottest man you’ve ever seen, except the date begins while you’re slobbing it out on the sofa, no makeup, days past hair-wash day, and you’re not even allowed to look in the mirror and fix any of it.
“Hey, how’s the Canyon treating you?”
“Sheetcake! You scared me!” I bring a hand to my chest, while the lady from the restaurant smiles at my reflection in the mirror. And there goes my wholedon’t look at yourself or take any selfiesgoal.
Oof. I pull my hat off, and hello, Hermione Granger hair. No, scratch that. I look like Hagrid after playing a three-hour set in a sweaty bar.
“Sorry I scared you,” the woman says and palms her cheeks with a grimace.
My heart is still galloping as I replace my hat, exhaling a sharp breath and settling into a smile. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Willow,” I say into the mirror, lifting my hand in a wave.
“I’m Jerrica,” she adds with a fluttery laugh and steps forward, pulling a twig from my shoulder.
“Thanks, and the hike has been great,” I lie. The only great thing so far is Jack.
“Doesn’t hurt having a hunky man tagging along with you, huh?” Her mouth curls into a smirk while she shoots me a sidelong glance.
“He’s only doing it because I’m blackmailing him. You won’tbelievethe dirt I have on the guy,” I tell her, nodding like it will make me more convincing. Internally, I’m shaking my head, because I have no idea where any of that came from. Sometimes the words just roll out of my mouth, and I can’t stop them. “But, yeah, it helps having a big ol’ muscled man around to do the heavy lifting,” I tack on to soften my story.
“Ain’t that the truth?” She giggles, shaking her wet hands over the sink before smoothing them over the cool-toned dark hair that draws my eye away from her pretty features.
