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“No, he’s not my new guy. He’s my guy for now.”
Yasmine and I both chuckle.
“Yet you have a date in an hour,” Yasmine adds.
“Get ready, Ames.” I smile at my friends. “When I’m next in Canaima, we’ll do this again.”
“Do you know when that will be?” Yasmine frowns at me.
This time, I opt for the truth. “No.”
* * *
At first light, I push out of bed, ignoring the lethargy weighing down my legs. I refuse to lay here while Samuel could be in danger. My first instinct is to pull back the blind and peer out to the vast green jungle bordered by prehistoric mountains to where Samuel could be. I move the blind aside, and my God, there’s a body curled up in the hammock on my porch.
I creep out despite only wearing a tank top and panties and lift the mosquito net to touch his shoulder.
Dirt smears his face, bare arms, and legs, and it reminds me of our life in Ulara. Sliding my fingers through his already unruly hair, my nails catch in knotted ends. “Samuel,” I whisper. “Come inside.”
“I need to shower,” he mumbles. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Well, I didn’t sleep well without you, so please come inside.” I take his hand and tug lightly.
He lets out a groan, swings his legs over the side, and rubs his dirty hands over his face. “Is it dawn already?”
“How long have you been here?”
“A couple of hours.”
I take his hand to pull him up, and there’s smeared blood over his shins. “What happened to you?”
“I’ll shower first. Then sleep. Then we’ll talk.”
With his hand on my shoulder, I walk with him to the shower realizing how much the trip took everything out of him. He rips off his T-shirt and cargo shorts. “These can go in the trash,” he grunts.
I pull my tank top over my head and toss it aside. I slide off my panties and step into the shower with him. “Here.” I place both his hands on the wall and then lather soap to wash over his back, arms, and shoulders. I miss these sensual moments. Even if he’s exhausted, I’m not passing up an opportunity to run my hands over the smooth muscles of his body. After filling the palm of my hand with shampoo, I lather it into his hair. “Can you bend down so I can massage your scalp?”
“God, that feels good.”
A soft laugh comes from me. “It’s nice to reverse the roles. You can rinse it now.”
Eyes closed, he tilts his head and pushes the last of the shampoo out of his hair. I focus on his face. His expression is a combination of pleasure and relief. The bones of his cheek are more prominent than they were when we first met. Lines are etched deeper near his eyes. The slight stubble of fair hair dots his chin. I prefer him without a beard, but I’ll take Samuel any way I can.
He rubs both hands over his face and opens his eyes. I gasp. So many emotions roll off him—so much pain. Even though his love for me is there, I sense more.
A man seeking understanding.
A man crumbling with the walls of his demeanor cracking.
A heart that wants to give and give until…
“What happened yesterday?”
His eyes flick over my face.
“Don’t give me an edited version. I can handle it.”
“I know you can.” He places a hand on my cheek. “But you’ve been through enough.”
