Page 8 of His Hawaiian Heart (Stateside Doms #26)

Chapter Five

Samantha

On reaching the area set up as temporary lodgings, I pasted a smile on my face and made the obligatory round of greeting those who’d been occupied with something more important than traipsing into the woods to discover me and him practically joined at the hip.

It was no one’s fault but my own that I’d acted the fool.

In fact, come to think of it, I was lucky he hadn’t had time to kiss me.

Don’t you mean hadn’t bothered?

“Shhh!” I hissed beneath my breath as I followed Cookie to the tent serving as the camp’s mess hall. Well, until I walked smack-dab into him as he abruptly came to a stop and lifted his hand.

“Did you hear that?”

“Huh?”

“Hissing, you know like a snake does,” Cookie said.

Why he preferred traipsing all over the world instead of running some five-star restaurant was a mystery I’d yet to solve.

I just knew I adored Randolph, the man we all called Cookie as that was what he was known for.

Not just for his ability to create incredible meals whether in the middle of a desert or deep in a rainforest, but for actually baking fresh cookies on a daily basis.

“Can’t say I did, but don’t worry. Unlike in Peru, you don’t have to be concerned about anacondas or fer-de-lances here. There are no venomous snakes in Hawaii.”

He gave me a look that bordered on disbelief. “Even so, they’d still have fangs, right?”

I couldn’t argue with his logic and nodded. “Yes, but look at it this way, you won’t have to worry about anacondas hugging you to death or dropping dead in seconds from poison. Even if you get bit a couple of times, you won’t die.”

“Well, aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine,” Cookie grunted.

“Yep, that’s me! Always looking for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”

Too bad all you found was a slimy serpent in the grass…

“I thought that was a myth.”

“Maybe you’ve just been looking at the wrong pot.” I added a laugh, only cringing a teensy bit because even to my ears I sounded a trifle hysterical.

“Who’s talking about pots? I’m talking about snakes. Aren’t you brainiacs always spouting off about how snakes aren’t slimy? Or does that only afflict those serpents?”

“Serpents?”

“The ones in the grass.”

Oh shit. Evidently that silent voice had not only disregarded my request she shut up, she’d decided to speak loud enough for Cookie to hear her. My reputation already had a mark against it, and now I was in danger of having my sanity questioned by talking to myself.

The look he pinned me with had me wondering if perhaps he’d become a chef as a cover for the real job he did for one of those alphabet soup government agencies. Take off that apron, and he certainly fit the image of an interrogator.

“Uhhh… I-I… ummm… well, my expertise lies in insects, not reptiles.”

I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone ever look so unconvinced, but he finally just grunted and bent to grab the tab of the zipper. After he’d unzipped it, he held the flap open and turned to me.

“I’m not an expert on anything, but if you want some advice, stick to those multi-legged bugs and stay away from snakes.

Venomous or not, bites are still painful.

” He paused and then gestured for me to go ahead of him.

As I slipped past him, he added, “ Especially those serpents of the two-legged variety.”

When my feet tangled with each other as he dropped that bit of insight, I told myself it wasn’t because it hit far too close to home, it was because my hypothesis of his true career was one step closer to being confirmed.

Not wishing to blow his cover, I stood to my full height of five feet four-and-three-quarter inches, closed my eyes, and simply basked in the aroma of the huge tent’s interior.

I forgot all about bugs and reptiles of all varieties as I was immediately reminded that my breakfast had been a stale bag of pretzels on the plane, and lunch had been a tiny chunk of cheese.

When I felt Cookie brush my arm as he entered behind me, I turned and gave him a sincere smile.

“I swear, Cookie, the day you retire is the day I stop field work.”

“Nonsense,” he said though his chest puffed out a bit. “You’re just hungry. I’ve saved you a plate.”

“If there’s a cookie on that plate, you’re my hero, and if that cookie just happens to contain chunks of dark chocolate and flakes of coconut, I might ask you to marry me.”

“Promises, promises,” he quipped and moved to duck around one of the long tables where large aluminum pans and bowls would normally be lined up holding that meal’s choices.

Currently, it was a clean expanse which told me I’d missed dinner.

My stomach actually growled at the sight of Cookie returning, with not one covered plate and a set of cutlery, but two of each.

“Oh, how nice. We can catch up while we eat and I practice my wooing skills.”

“Don’t go and get all gooey-eyed. I’m old enough to be your father. Besides, this isn’t for me. I ate with the rest of the team. I just figured your friend might like a bite as well.”

Nothing remained secret long out in the field.

When people were crammed into close proximity to one another and away from more public spaces, they tended to share everything.

And when those people were scientists who dealt in the importance of data, they tended to go a bit overboard in spewing it without thinking.

Evidently, he’d already heard about the fiasco of my arrival.

However, whoever had informed him hadn’t interpreted the data correctly.

Not if Cookie had made a plate for someone he evidently thought actually meant something to me.

Or maybe he’s just not as good at lying to himself as you are.

Perhaps if I simply stopped reacting to that voice it would get bored and actually shut the hell up!

“Sorry, Cookie. I’m afraid it’ll be a table for one. In fact, how about I just take it to go? I can eat in my tent and let you put your feet up.”

“My feet are just fine on the ground and if you’re alone, then who in the hell is that?” He lifted one of the plates and extended it like a finger which had me following its direction.

My heart flipped but my fingers clenched. How dare he barge in here like he… he had a right to invade my home! I turned back to Cookie. “Remember that grass we were discussing?”

Cookie tilted his head. “Who’s talking about grass? I thought we were discussing dinner.”

Way to go. Looks like the only thing you’ll be eating is that foot you just stuck into your mouth.

This camel’s back couldn’t take another straw.

I’d apologize later, but right now, I just took the plate closest to me out of Cookie’s hand and walked out of the mess tent.

The fact that the tent opening was held up and out of my way so I could make a complete exit didn’t placate me.

In fact, it infuriated me even further. I came to a dead stop and glared at the man who owned the hand holding the flap up.

“I guess I can now add the fact you actually showed me the door to my list.”

“I’m not showing you?—”

I held my palm up. “Don’t worry. I’m not the type of woman to hold a grudge. You don’t have to worry about me informing Harriett that you’re an… an?—”

“What? You have something against chauffeurs?”

I lowered my hand and shook my head. “I don’t give a flip about what you do for a living. The only thing I care about is what you are as a man. And as far as I’m concerned, you’re an?—”

“Sam?”

“What!”

Cookie was what my mom would call a “big” man.

He wasn’t but a couple of inches taller than me but he was about five times as wide.

Not because he was fat. In fact, he was more like the Incredible Hulk than the Michelin Man.

Still, the force of the single word being shouted by two people was enough to cause him to take a step back and me to snap out of it.

“Cookie, meet the serpent.” I shoved the plate into Sam’s chest and promptly finished my exit.

It wasn’t until I’d made it halfway across the clearing that I realized I had no clue which tent was mine.

Evidently, my body language was enough to alert someone to my current cluelessness as Beth looked up from where she and Josh were sitting with a group of people in camp chairs and roasting marshmallows over the fire.

“Head staff is just over there, Dr. Laughlin,” she said in a far too chirpy, happy-to-help voice. “Yours is the one on the far end.” She pointed to a tent in an area set aside from the others.

“Thanks,” I managed in what I hoped she took as gratitude and not a snarl, but honestly, it was all I could manage at the moment.

I hadn’t ever really paid much attention to the hierarchy of a research team before, but I’d never been as grateful as now that my status evidently elevated me enough to warrant having my very own tent.

Not because I deserved special attention, mind you, but I was pretty sure that any poor soul having me as a tentmate would find some excuse as to why they needed to evacuate the premises immediately.

Practically strangling on the groans determined to claw their way up my throat, I finished the trip and the moment I reached the safety of my tent, I flopped down on my cot, buried my face in the pillow, and screamed as loud and as long as I could.