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“Yeah, I guess. But don’t you think something is still off about all of this?” she asked, and Oliver nodded as if—shocker—they actually agreed on something.
“Obviously,” I grunted in frustration. “But fine, I’ll keep my mouth shut about why we’re here for now.” Charley would need to learn to trust me first, and I had a feeling we were on the right path to that, but one wrong move, and I’d lose that trust in a heartbeat. “I better go out there before I have to lie and say we’re having a threesome.” I started for the door, swiped my dirty laundry from the counter, and then left them alone.
Back in the bedroom, the light was already off, and I assumed Carter and Gwen were in their bed. Charley must’ve chosen a side of our bed since I didn’t see any movement in the room. At least no one had come knocking wondering why we were all in the bathroom together.
The fact I was about to sleep—well, share a bed—with the woman who’d been running a marathon in my head since last month was just so damn wild. And yet, as Mya and Oliver had frustratingly pointed out, somehow, I had a feeling our encounter in Cape Town wasn’t an accident. And that also meant us being stuck together in the jungle couldn’t be either. I’d thought it was fate, that I was there so I could protect her, but Mya’s doubt was infiltrating my head and throwing me off.
I tossed my clothes by the bed and peeled back the covers. The second I was next to her, my weight made the shitty mattress dip down, and the headboard-less bed groaned.
“How’s your leg feeling?” I whispered. With my eyes beginning to adjust to the darkness, I could not only feel her shifting to face me, I could make out her silhouette as she moved.
“It’s fine.”
Even with the lights out, I was pretty sure our faces were only inches apart. Our lips damn close. Maybe our bed was even smaller than Mya and Oliver’s, because I doubted we could place a pillow between us.
“You smell good,” she shocked me by saying.
“I smell like you.” Damn that comment. “Sorry, that sounds weird. But, you know, we used the same type of earthy-smelling soap.”
“Mmhm. But it smells better on you.”
“Oh, does it now?” Was she giving me an inch here? Checking to see if I’d try for a mile? Fuck if this woman didn’t already have me so wrapped, I’d give her an entire zip code.
And that also concerned me. What if I was too invested in Charley to see the truth? To see Charley as the threat, not the threatened one?
“I wish I . . .” She let her thought linger, and I hung on to it tighter than that damn rope bridge.
My hand shot beneath my pillow, and I plumped the sad piece of cotton up as much as I could, waiting for her to continue. Hoping she would, at least. When she didn’t, I shared, “I wish you never left that morning without saying goodbye.” I kept my voice low enough that the cameras wouldn’t pick up my words. I wish you’d tell me the truth so I could stamp out any lingering doubts. Kick Mya’s warning to the curb.
“I had to go,” she said after one of the longest minutes of my life.
The woman was starting to give me anxiety with all her pauses.
What if you’re just a great actress? What if that little scar on your chin wasn’t from a bike race? What if your parents are really alive, and you knew about mine, and you used that information to try and draw me in? Relate to me to get me to open up. Was it a trap? Did you drug me, so I’d pass out that night? What were you after? Who are you really?
I hated the seed of doubt Mya had planted. Hated myself even more for not acting like a man with twenty years of operational experience dealing with some of the worst terrorists all over the world. In my line of work, the only people I could trust were on my team. And I didn’t mean my jungle-love-show team, which made Charley one huge question mark.
“Why’d you have to go?” Despite the montage of warnings and reminders pushing through my head, I had to ask. Talk about collecting red flags like souvenirs.
No response.
“Well, when you feel like you can trust me, will you tell me?” I eased the question out in a steady tone.
Another painful pause. Slightly shorter than before. “Even if I can ever trust you, there are some things just better left unsaid. Safer for you not to know.”
Safer? That had my pulse picking up. More alarms sounding.
“Don’t ask,” she murmured before I could do exactly that. “Goodnight . . . Jack.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
JACK
It took me a second to figure out if I was in some weird dream when I woke up, or if the last twelve hours had been real. Was the woman who’d been in my head since last month really in bed next to me?
I usually slept on my stomach, but I’d woken on my side this morning, and Charley was facing me while asleep. Her hands were tucked beneath her face, but did I play capture the flag with her leg in my dreams? Why, yes. Yes, I did. And that leg was wedged firmly between mine, the weight of my top leg not disturbing her in the slightest.
Not wanting to relinquish that small personal victory, I reluctantly tried to ease her leg free without waking her. Our covers were bunched at the bottom of the bed, making the task a bit easier. The A/C hadn’t done wonders to keep us cool while we’d slept, and one of us, or maybe both of us, must’ve gotten rid of the blanket during our sleep.
