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“No,” I say quickly. “I mean, yes!” Damn, I’m making a fool of myself. Not a good look for the expedition leader. “The team is getting together for a casual dinner at the resort’s restaurant. I was wondering if you’d like to join us? I, err, would be really pleased if you did.”
I swear, asking my first girlfriend out in high school as an inexperienced teenage boy was easier than this.
“Sure,” Miss Sass says. “Hang on a second.”
She backtracks inside her bungalow, pointedly closing the door, and comes back two minutes later with a black camera strapped around her neck and nestled squarely between her—
“See something you like, Dr. Spencer?”
“That’s a nice camera,” I babble. “How many megapixels?”
Did I seriously just ask about the resolution of her reflex?
“No pixels for this baby.” She smirks condescendingly. “Only old-fashioned film. And before you say anything, don’t worry, the expedition reportage will all be in modern high-res digital shots. This is for me.” She taps the camera. “I want to take a few photographs of the ocean at night.”
Is that even possible? I wonder. With no light? But I don’t ask, I only nod.
She gestures at the steps. “After you, Dr. Spencer.”
I’m sure the use of my academic title is a form of mocking for her, so, as I take the first couple of steps down, I say, “Please call me Logan. No need for formalities.”
Your move, Miss Sass.
* * *
Once we arrive at the beach-side restaurant, another open-wall wooden structure, we’re the last to join the party. Everyone is here except for the military guys, who must’ve declined the invite. I can’t honestly say that I’m sorry.
There are only two spots left at the table: one next to Tucker, and the other beside Archie.
Without hesitation, Winter bypasses Archie and sits beside Tucker, making me sigh in relief. The last thing I need on this trip is a jungle romance. And I suspect that if Miss Sass and my best friend collided and exploded, things could potentially end worse than in Acapulco. Archie’s nickname in college was Lover Boy for a reason, and, unfortunately, he hasn’t grown up much since then—not in the romantic department at least.
“What’s on the menu?” I ask, taking the chair next to Archie and getting a “does the photographer get hotter every time we see her?” ankle kick under the table. That or he’s silently wondering if she’s bra-less.
After years of living in symbiosis, as roommates in college first, and afterward on all our adventures around the world, Archie and I have developed amazing non-verbal communication skills.
“I was just suggesting a Thai Experience tasting menu,” Dr. Boonjan says to me, pointing out the option on the menu. “It’s an authentic roundup of traditional Thai dishes.”
We all agree to the suggestion just as a server arrives at our table, notepad in hand. Dr. Boonjan orders for us in Thai. Then, as the server walks away, Dr. Boonjan turns to Winter and asks, “Is this your first time in Thailand, Miss Knowles?”
“Please call me Winter,” she says, smiling. “And, no, I’ve been to Bangkok several times. Also Ayutthaya, Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai, Phuket, Phi Phi Island… but it’s my first time in Trat…”
Blah… Blah… Blah… We get it, Miss Sass, you’re well-traveled. Join the club.
I tune her out and turn to Archie.
Mistake.
He waggles his eyebrows at me.
I roll my eyes and pick up the wine list. I’m still a little buzzed from the bourbon, and should probably keep my head clear, but enough dry nights await us for me to want to indulge a little while I have the chance.
A citrusy smell hits my nose, and I look up to find Winter spraying lotion all over her bare arms and legs. Across her nape, over her collarbones, down her neckline…
Archie coughs loudly beside me, and this time it’s me kicking him.
“What is that?” Tucker asks the photographer.
“Lemongrass spray,” Winter says. “A natural insect repellent. You should try it.”
