Page 15

Chief Aiken Oakley

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Oakley asked Sawyer while scarfing down his third roast beef and cheese sandwich.

“Yeah, chief. I see it.”

Sawyer seemed addicted to papaya now because he’d only eaten one sandwich but had left no fruit for anyone else.

“I’m gonna act like I don’t.”

No one was eating with them—perhaps they’d already had their lunch—because the ones who’d been working so diligently when they’d arrived were now scurrying like crazed squirrels, covering whiteboards, hiding notebooks, slamming laptops shut, and tucking away spreadsheets.

“Aren’t you suspicious?”

“No,” Sawyer growled. “I don’t give a fuck if they have a cocaine crop they’re harvesting. When they come back with that phone, we’re radioing command and getting the fuck outta here, Oakley.”

Oakley frowned.

“Then you’re more than welcome to report whatever you want.”

Sawyer got up and grabbed another bottle of water.

Oakley was appreciative of the wash, the donated clean clothes, and the food, but there was something off about this group of all men.

A tall man in light-blue scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck ducked his head inside the tent. He appeared to be in his late forties. He had a head full of wild blond hair and soft lines framing his sky-blue eyes.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Richards,” he said with a warm smile, extending his hand to Oakley and then Sawyer. “I was told one of you could use some medical attention.”

The doctor focused his gaze on Sawyer, staring at the right side of his face.

“May I?”

Sawyer cut his eyes to him as if seeking permission. After Oakley gave him a slight nod, Sawyer stood and turned his head to the left.

Oakley didn’t like the gentle way the doctor held Sawyer’s cheek while he palpated the inflamed skin along his throat.

“Any pain here?”

Sawyer shook his head. “A little, not much.”

“You two have been braving the Amazon for days, huh?”

“Three,” Sawyer answered.

The doctor’s eyes widened.

“Wow. You’re pretty amazing. I’m surprised none of these open blisters are infected.”

Sawyer stared at him over the doctor’s shoulder, his eyes gleaming with appreciation…and lust.

“That’s because I wasn’t alone. If they had become infected, the burns would’ve been the least of my problems. Pretty sure I would’ve been dead within hours. I had no clue how to survive out there. Chief Oakley kept me alive and treated my skin the entire time with leaves, plants, and other weird shit.”

“‘Weird shit’.” The doctor’s laugh was low and husky.

He spun around and stared at him as if he didn’t believe what Sawyer had said, as if he’d been exaggerating. He quirked one brow before he extended his hand again. “Much respect, chief. The rule of that jungle is kill or be killed.”

Oakley gripped the doctor’s hand hard, leveling him with a glare.

Dr. Richards grimaced and flexed his fingers when Oakley released him.

“Well, um, I’d still like to give them a deeper examination and clean ’em thoroughly.”

The doctor didn’t spare Oakley a glance when he added, “Leaves, plants, and weird shit aren’t as effective as a cool compress and oxacillin.”

“If only we’d passed a pharmacy on our way,” Oakley gritted.

“My tent is the fourth one back. Go ahead and finish your lunch, chief. I’ll get everything ready,” the doctor said. “I’m pretty sure I have some scar cream. I wanna make sure this face stays as handsome as it is.”

Motherfucker .

Sawyer shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

Oakley stood there a long time with his arms folded.

Sawyer chuckled. “Seriously?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m gonna let you as soon as we’re back home.” Sawyer’s smug grin was infuriating.

“I think Dr. Feelgood wants a go at you first.”

Sawyer shook his head as if Oakley were being stupid. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, chief.” Sawyer got up, walked into his space, and crushed their mouths together.

He tasted sweet, his lips sticky from the papaya, and Oakley wanted to heft him on the table and lick him everywhere.

Sawyer tried to end the kiss, but Oakley gripped him tighter around his waist.

He took as much as he wanted before he allowed Sawyer to pull away.

“I’ll be back.” Oakley glared, wanting Sawyer to see his seriousness.

“Don’t look at me like that with those sexy eyes.” Sawyer nipped him on his cheek. “The doc ain’t got shit on you. Stop being an insecure prick.”

“I’m not insecure,” he mumbled. “I just don’t like the guy.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Sawyer grabbed another banana and then headed out of the tent.

“Hey,” he called after him.

“Hm?”

“I told you the scars make you hotter.”

Sawyer rolled his eyes, then kept walking.

Oakley made sure no one was around before he went in the other direction.

You can stick your fuckin’ head in the sand if you want, Sawyer. But I’m gonna do some investigating. I don’t trust these sneaky bastards.