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We had to leave for the event soon, and we’d be traveling down the river by motorboat to get there. No roads in or out. Not exactly comforting. And with the canopy of trees, a helo extract would be tricky unless done over water.
The last time I’d been in Brazil had been with the CIA, protecting Gray’s sister, Natasha, on an intelligence-gathering operation in Sao Luis on the coast. It’d been a totally different mission, but ironically, a similar cover story: single businessman seeking adventure. Only this time, my cover story had some partial truths, such as being a Green Beret. It helped fill the event requirement that contestants have certain backgrounds and skills to help with the “survival” aspects of the game. I still couldn’t figure out if the contestants were supposed to be there for love, money, or adventure? I supposed all three.
On this trip I was going as Jack Hughes. It was always easier to keep our first names on missions so we didn’t screw up and slip when overtired and overworked and call someone by the wrong name. Or refuse to respond to someone when they called us by the “wrong” name.
Done with my sleeves, I faced the room again and found myself asking, “What’s the deal with the arm thing anyway?”
Mya exchanged a look with Gwen, and Gwen stood from the couch, swiping her hair clinging to her cheeks away from her face.
It was humid as fuck in there. Sweat dripped down my back even though it was only in the low eighties outside and there was a little A/C unit working double time. It was huffing and puffing like the train in The Little Engine that Could book I’d just read to my goddaughter, Emory, last week. Natasha and Wyatt’s daughter—Gwen’s half sister—was ridiculously adorable, and she made me wish . . . want to have a kid of my own one day.
Why am I thinking about having kids right now? I blinked and tore my focus away from the on-the-verge-of-death A/C unit to focus back on Mya and Gwen, still waiting for them to answer me.
Gwen slid a few silver bangle bracelets onto her wrist. “You have great arms, Jack,” she said, catching me by surprise. “Arm porn. It’s a thing, and you should rock it.”
I grunted. “Yeah, I didn’t need that answer. The last word I want to hear from you of all people is ‘porn.’” Just because we weren’t related, and she wasn’t my niece, didn’t mean she didn’t feel every bit like an extension of the only family I had left—as in the Chandlers, my best friend’s family.
“But she’s right. And, just so you know, you have plenty of other sexy qualities aside from your personality,” Mya added.
Were they trying to give me an ego boost knowing how nervous I was since this wasn’t just any op? Of course, with my luck, I’d be the only one not paired up and get kicked out before the night even began.
Mya began mussing up my hair I’d just worked hard to tame with gel. “You have incredible hair. Thick brown locks with natural golden and coppery highlights.”
“You mean gray,” I joked. “That’s gray.” But I did have great hair. I was with her on that. Tapered at the sides. A bit longer and unruly on the top and parted to the left.
“Oh, and you have ink. Ink is hot.” Gwen winked. “And I know everyone likes to tease you that you’re like Ryan Reynolds, but personally, I’d say you remind me of that guy from Vampire Diaries. Ugh, what’s his real name?” She snapped her fingers. “Paul Wesley. Mmm. Yeah, definitely him.”
I looked back and forth between the two of them, anxious for the other guys to come back so they would stop showering me with compliments like it was their job. “I have no idea who or what she’s talking about.”
Mya closed one eye. “Yeah, you know, I can see it. Ryan’s humor but looks-wise . . . well, damn, now I can’t unsee it. I used to have such a crush on that actor, too.”
“I hate you two,” I grumbled. “You prepared this little speech to give me, didn’t you?”
Walking past them, I started for the balcony overlooking the river. I pushed open the door and went outside, pulling the door closed behind me. Hopefully they took the hint and stayed inside with the A/C.
It may have been hot and humid there but being in the place boasting the “Lungs of the Planet” meant the air was fresh. I sucked in a deep breath, detecting a hint of smoke to it. Deforestation and fires had been problematic lately. Hell, there was even a timber-smuggling trade route now. Fuck, could no one just leave a good thing alone? Just let the forest be.
I gripped the railing, finding the bolts a bit loose, and took a small step back. We were on the third level, and I wasn’t looking to cliff dive into the river below. “Careful,” I warned Mya at the realization I wasn’t alone. Nope, she definitely didn’t take the hint. “Some screws are loose.” I chuckled at the double meaning there since I was feeling a bit off myself.
Mya nudged me in the side with her elbow. “I promise you’ll find someone to make you happy one day.” Well, that was quite the pivot I hadn’t anticipated.
I tossed a look behind me to see if we were alone. Gwen was busy typing on her phone in the living room. “Don’t worry, I won’t mistake your silly compliments—if that’s what they were—for flirting. I’m on the friend train now, I promise.”
“It takes meeting the right one to realize you were interested in the wrong one.” That was yet another saying from my mom finding its way into my head. I swear the woman was still with me even though she’d died years ago.
Some days I missed my parents more than I cared to admit to anyone. I drank the pain away, too. Kept the pain to myself. Bottled it up. Then used the bottle to try and convince myself I didn’t need a love like theirs to be happy.
It crushed me that my parents never saw me wind up with my “the one.” They’d died while I’d still been unhappily married to Jill.
“I’m jet-lagged, but I swear I saw her at the airport today. Even chased after her. Did the embarrassing shoulder-turn-around thing. It wasn’t her, of course. And I felt like a fool.” And I just spoke my thoughts out loud, didn’t I?
I was truly starting to think I hallucinated that night with Charley in South Africa. If I didn’t have evidence on my laptop she really existed, I’d go ahead and sign myself up for therapy.
“Saw who? Chased after who?” Mya grabbed my arm-porn arm, yeah, I’d never forget that, and urged me to face her. “Tell me. Please.”
“Don’t give me the puppy dog eyes.” I frowned.
“But like . . . these eyes work six out of seven times.” She smirked, and it was a smile that would’ve killed me before meeting Charley. The kind of kill-me that happened to Mason. To Oliver. To any single man with a pulse. I doubted even Carter was immune to Mya.
