Page 12

Chief Aiken Oakley

Oakley tried to keep his mind off his exhaustion by pointing out animals and bugs and describing their characteristics to Sawyer.

Sawyer seemed most fascinated by the poisonous frogs and the wild-colored birds. Oakley hoped his lessons on wildlife were enough to distract Sawyer from his obvious pain.

It was still early, but the sunlight had begun to fade and the skies were ashen gray. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees, but it wasn’t close to dusk.

Oakley wished he had more of the numbing plants, but there hadn’t been any by the stream or while they’d been walking.

They’d been humping almost three hours, and he was about to call a break when Sawyer hollered loud enough to wake the nocturnal animals.

Oakley ducked and yanked his firearm out of his thigh holster. Sawyer hadn’t yelled out since Oakley told him not to, so he had to be warning him of something dangerous in their path.

He didn’t see anything, and when he glanced at Sawyer, he was frozen in his place, skin as pale as a cloud.

“Please.”

Sawyer’s voice was so weak and shaky that Oakley barely heard it over the chirping bird.

“G-get it, Oak—”

Sawyer had the biggest tarantula Oakley had ever seen crawling across his chest.

The farther up it traveled, the harder Sawyer trembled.

“It’s okay, Sawyer. I’ve got you.” Oakley rushed over and pinched the spider between its second and third pair of furry legs.

The arachnid flailed in his hold before Oakley set him on a large Monstera leaf.

He instinctually pulled Sawyer into his arms and touched his lips to his ear.

“You’re okay. It’s gone.”

“You think I’m a fuckin’ pussy, don’t you?”

“Stop it. That was a tarantula, Sawyer, and a massive one too.”

Sawyer was still shaking.

“Ninety-two percent of people in the world have a fear of spiders, chief. Tarantulas have a ferocious bite. Of course you’re gonna want it off you.”

Oakley had exaggerated that stat, but he didn’t want Sawyer to feel ashamed or embarrassed.

He smoothed his palm over Sawyer’s hair and cupped the back of his neck.

“Are you okay?”

Sawyer nodded, not looking him in his eyes.

“Hey,” he whispered, kissing the oversensitive side of Sawyer’s face, “you’re safe with me.”

Oakley prayed he was making a promise he could keep.

“Let’s get going. We only have a few hours before it starts to rain. Let’s find some shelter.”

Over the next couple of miles, Sawyer’s head was on a swivel. He examined every oversized bush they passed. Which was why they’d only gone a couple of miles in one hour.

The air was becoming heavy and wrapping around him like a soggy blanket. The sky darkened, with ominous clouds rolling in like a storm surge on the rampage, threatening a torrential downpour at any moment.

He began searching for a tree high enough to avoid any overzealous night animals and with a thick canopy to shield them from the rain.

Oakley was lucky he was on the hunt because if he hadn’t been, he’d have missed the large bunches of coconuts nestled high among the branches of a long, slender tree speckled with patches of vibrant green moss.

“Oh, hell yeah.” Oakley hurried toward the tree, eager to quench his thirst with the sweet water inside the fruit. “These aren’t native here, so we must be getting close to a village or something. When I knock’em down, you pick ’em up.”

“How the hell are you going to get up—”

Sawyer hadn’t finished the sentence before Oakley leaped feetfirst onto the sticky bark, then wrapped his hands around the tree like a koala.

Moving feet over hands like he’d done countless times, thing on the ground got way smaller with every upward pull. The trick was to never stop or look down.

He could hear Sawyer praying to whatever jungle god he thought was out there, “Please don’t let him fall.”

When he was almost to the top, he bypassed the hairy dark-brown older nuts and went for the young bunches with the light-green outer shells.

Knowing they’d be stubborn to get off, Oakley was careful to keep his thighs clenched tight around the tree and used his knife to cut down as many as he could before his legs became so fatigued he wouldn’t be able to get back down.

The knife he had was inadequate for the job, and when he got tired of sawing, he began to climb back down.

He sighed in relief when his boots touched solid ground and Sawyer was squatting around a dozen coconuts.

Oakley scooped one up and shook it close to his ear.

“There should be plenty of water in those,” he said with a big grin.

“We can eat them too, yeah?”

“Yep. The meat should be nice and tender.”

Instead of trying to keep walking while carrying coconuts, Oakley led them to the base of a kapok tree, hoping those branches could hold them. He wanted Sawyer in his arms.

Chief Styles Sawyer

“I would help you if I still had a knife,” Sawyer grumbled as he watched Oakley skin the coconuts and create a hole for them to drink the water.

Sawyer took the next one Oakley handed him and turned it up to his mouth.

The water was sweet, nutty, and refreshing. He could probably drink twenty of them by himself.

“I’ll never again say that people who drink coconut water are pretentious pricks.”

It was nice to hear Oakley laugh.

Four coconuts were placed to the side as Oakley began to shave the insides of the others and cut off chunks for them to eat.

He was surprised by how soft and juicy it was. It wasn’t enough to fill him up, but his stomach wasn’t cramping anymore.

Sawyer stared at Oakley while he began to skin the other pieces of fruit. God, he was gorgeous, even with grungy hair and dirt and sweat stains on his face. His eyes still gleamed with beauty, though there was no sunlight.

Sawyer believed in fate.

If he’d been in that jungle alone, he’d already be dead by now. Hell, if he’d gone on the mission with any other boat chief, he’d be dead.

“What you thinking ’bout so hard over there?”

Sawyer ducked his head. “You.”

“I suggest you think about something worthwhile.”

“You’re worth all my while.”

Oakley’s smile was shy and charming.

“Come ’ere, Cassanova.” Oakley poured some coconut water on a wide palm leaf. “Let me rub this on your burns. Coconut oil can help with burns. Let’s see if this helps.”

Sawyer went to Oakley and dropped to his knees between his legs. Submitted to his healer and warrior.

“Damn, Sawyer.” Oakley stared into his eyes for several charged seconds. “If you only knew…”

Oh, I know.

Oakley cupped his chin, then tilted his head up and to the left. The first touch of the smooth leaf to his cheek stung, but it wasn’t long before the coolness began to seep into his wounds.

Warmth radiated from Oakley’s touch. Even amid the discomfort, the chief’s concern and tenderness did crazy things in Sawyer’s chest.

The loudness of the jungle began to fade, and it was just the two of them.

Oakley not only tended to the burns of his body but of his spirit as well.