Page 7

Miri wasn’t kidding about her lightning-fast reflexes. One second, they were standing there, watching Quinn barking out orders—and, frankly, being a jackass—and the next, Rafa was lying with his back flat on the ground, several feet away from the van.

And with Miri resting on top of him.

It had all happened so fast. Rafa wasn’t even sure his brain had registered what was happening when someone yelled to look out before he was on the ground, followed by a sharp snap and a howling scream.

Rafa lifted his head at the same time Miri lifted hers off his chest. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Everything else ceased to exist. Those sapphire eyes stared at him with concern, silencing the world around him. God, she was beautiful. More beautiful than he’d realized before. Like a painting in a museum that appears unassuming at first, but when you get up close, you notice all its nuances and specialness and suddenly, you can’t look away. And the longer you stare at it, the more you see.

Such as the faint, scattered freckles on her cheeks. The length of her full lashes. The slight upturn of the tip of her nose. And even that tiny chicken pox scar below her right eyebrow. But most importantly, the dip of the cupid’s bow in her lips, pointing straight to her barely open mouth. Those lips. Glistening. Beckoning. Daring him for a taste.

Rafa fought the urge to touch each feature—you can’t go pawing a Monet, after all. But he didn’t fight the urge to stare. Because she deserved to be looked at. To be admired.

Rafa steadied her body in his arms, holding her tightly as all her weight rested atop him. It felt so natural having her this close. For the second time in one day.

He could get used to this.

“Yeah, I think so,” he finally answered, begrudgingly taking his hand away from her hip and rubbing the back of his head. “What happened?”

“I…I don’t know. I heard ‘look out’ and reacted,” Miri said.

They twisted their heads toward the van, and the disorder came into focus. People on the ground groaning, dusting off, and inspecting their bodies for bumps and bruises after apparently also having taken nosedives away from the van.

And beside it, Quinn. Writhing in the mud and clutching his hand tightly against his chest. It wasn’t the time for I told you so s, but…

“Somebody help me, goddammit!” Quinn yelled. “Except you, you buffoon,” he said, elbowing the driver away from him.

“You said ‘go,’?” the driver pleaded.

“I said when I say go!”

Shit. Rafa closed his eyes for a second, willing it all away. Maybe this is a dream. Yes, that’s it. A dream. But as Miri hopped off his body and rushed over to Quinn, Rafa snapped back to reality, instantly missing the touch of her skin against his.

“Dr. Quinn, Dr. Quinn, look at me,” Miri said, squaring in front of him to check his head wound. “I think a bag fell and hit you on the head. How many fingers am I holding up?” She raised two fingers, but he swatted her away.

“Your powers of observation are severely lacking. There’s nothing wrong with my head. Can’t you see this ?” He lifted his bloody hand to her face before wincing and tucking it back into his chest. “That clumsy jackass ran over my hand!”

Bummer that the knock on his head hadn’t done a number on his personality.

But Miri didn’t back down from assessing Quinn. “How many fingers?” she asked, again raising two.

Quinn squinted, then his upper body started to sway. “Three.”

Miri turned to Anissa. “I think he’s got a concussion.”

“I don’t have a commotion. I need an aid first kit, s’all.” Quinn went to stand but immediately faltered. Rafa hurried to catch him before he fell. “Oh…’m not feel s’good.”

With a swift turn, Quinn leaned over and vomited onto the ground, barely missing Rafa’s shoes.

“We need to get him out of here,” Anissa said.

An eerie stillness settled over the group as their eyes shifted to one another and their surroundings. The gravity of the situation finally sank in. Twelve people. One ten-passenger van. Hours from their intended destination. They could maybe squeeze into the one van if they left their equipment. If Rafa had to put a quick estimate on it, he’d say the equipment alone was worth a couple hundred grand. Not something to leave unattended in the rainforest, even if they hadn’t seen a single other vehicle in the last two hours they’d been traveling. And to have Quinn prone on a full bench, taking up at least three seats, that really didn’t leave much room for the rest of the team.

New rule—choose non-injury-inducing sabotages.

Nothing was going to Rafa’s plan. They were supposed to have had a nice, long detour. Get to the end of the road. Realize they’d made a wrong turn ( whoopsies, my bad ). Tack on another several hours of travel. The first in a series of delays. Delays that would ultimately tire out the crew. Frustrate Quinn and Miri. And soon they’d be on their way back to the States, empty-handed, like every other explorer who’d traveled to this damn jungle searching for a happily ever after to the fairy tale of a lifetime.

Unfortunately, Rafa hadn’t considered the driver catching on so soon. When he’d asked to take a quick look at the GPS, Rafa had only sought to distract him momentarily by calling out for him to avoid a nonexistent warthog. How was he supposed to anticipate that the driver would run them off the road? Or that there weren’t any warthogs in the Amazon.

Nous sommes baisée.

Yes, they certainly were fucked. No one was supposed to get hurt, even if Quinn deserved a swift kick in the ass. The way Quinn kept belittling Miri was pissing Rafa off. The fact that he refused to call her “Dr. Jacobs,” treating her like she hadn’t earned her title just as he’d earned his, showed a complete lack of respect. Rafa had noticed it last night with the way he dismissed Miri at the bar, but the insults were even more pronounced today. Call it karma, but Quinn had it coming.

He didn’t deserve more than a minor injury, though. Karma or not, Rafa didn’t want Quinn to get seriously injured because of his little detour.

Rafa held Quinn safely in his arms while Miri and the rest of the group were going over their options.

“I can see why she likes you,” Quinn said with a hum and a singsong voice.

“What are you talking about?” Rafa pulled Quinn up to keep him from slipping.

“Mari-um,” he slurred. “You’re strong. And hamsom. Vautour knew she’d like you.”

Vautour? Who the hell was Vautour?

“I don’t know who that is or what you’re talking about,” Rafa said.

“Well, he knows you. And I’m sure he knows your secrets.”

Rafa tensed. “My secrets?”

“Mm-hmm. About who you really are.”

No. It wasn’t possible.

“Okay, relax, Quinn. You’ve got a concussion. In fact, you should probably stop talking,” Rafa whispered in Quinn’s ear, hoping no one else could hear his gibberish.

But Quinn didn’t stop talking. “He’s coming. You’ll see.”

“Who are you? Who do you work for?”

Quinn chuckled like a drunkard. “Do we ever really know who we work for? Like truly, really? Glogal Geograbic. Brown Unibersary. Just words on a résumé. But deep down, s’all same. He owns me. Who knows. He probby owns you, too.”

What the hell?

Rafa opened his mouth to ask another question, when Quinn started to cry.

“I’m fucked,” Quinn said, his humor now gone. “I dimmit mean it. Help me. Please don’t let him take everything. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Quinn tugged on Rafa’s shoulders, pulling him down like he was trying to drown him in his pool of self-pity.

“Okay, we’ve got to get going. Quinn’s delirious,” Rafa called out to Miri.

But she didn’t flinch. Instead, Miri stared off in the distance. The scene unfolding in front of Rafa’s eyes was like an adventure movie gone horribly wrong. People crying. A mysterious forest awaiting them. The decision-makers incapacitated.

This can’t be happening. What have I done?

“Miri…Miri…” Anissa said, giving Miri a soft tug on her arm, snapping her out of whatever trance she’d been trapped in. “We need you to make a decision,” Anissa followed up.

“Well…” Miri paused, and for a moment, Rafa worried that she was going to zone out again, but she quickly rallied and scanned the group, appearing to calculate her options in her head. “We’ve got a ten-passenger van—”

“How many people will that fit?” Felix asked.

Miri shot a glance to Rafa. “Ten,” she responded with a straight face.

Relief overcame Rafa as he snickered under his breath. Glad she still had her sense of humor through all this.

“But we won’t all fit. Not with all our gear,” she continued.

“So we leave the gear,” someone chimed in.

“Do you want to be responsible for hundreds of thousands of dollars of equipment left on the side of the road?” Miri responded.

Beneath all those nerves, Rafa had to admit—Miri had sass.

“How about this? I’ll stay with the gear while the rest of you take that van.” She pointed to everyone. “Then you can take Dr. Quinn to the hospital, drop the crew members at the boat launch so you can still get to our base camp tonight, then send someone to get me and to pull this behemoth out of the mud pit. If you hit the road now, hopefully I can still make it to base camp by this evening.”

Rafa straightened. Leave her here? Alone? “That’s a terrible idea,” he said.

“Do you have a better one?” Miri said, placing her hands on her hips.

“Send a few people with Quinn,” he said, lifting Quinn in his arms as if needing to remind everyone of his condition, “and they can send help to the rest of us.”

“And what if they’re delayed? We can’t all sleep out here overnight,” she said.

“Imma stayin’,” Quinn mumbled.

“No, you’re going to the hospital,” Rafa said.

“An leave her m’charge?” Quinn said, thrashing his arm in Miri’s direction. “She’ll just fu-gid all-up!”

Miri’s nostrils flared. “You mean, like how you fucked up your hand playing Captain America? You’re leaving,” she said, pointing at Quinn, “I’m staying, and that’s the end of it.”

“Then I’m staying with you,” Rafa said. “It’s not safe for you to be out here alone.”

Before Miri could protest, Anissa chimed in. “He’s right. What if something were to happen?”

“I can stay, too,” Felix chimed in.

“Same,” Logan offered.

Miri glanced at Rafa as if cycling through a variety of scenarios, sending a few running through his head as well. Picturing them alone in the jungle, keeping each other warm by the campfire. But something flickered in her expression, and as if brushing the thought away, she shook her head.

“All right,” Miri said, walking around Rafa and Quinn to address the group. “Felix, Logan, Rafa, and I will stay here. The rest of you, load into the van and get to the hospital. You’ve got the other satellite phone, right, Anissa?”

Anissa nodded.

“Okay, then keep us posted if there are any other hiccups or delays. Otherwise, we’ll be waiting here until you send help.”

Marching orders settled, the crew set off in a flurry. Rafa pulled out the camera to document the ordeal: unloading and reloading vans to redistribute weight and equipment; carrying Quinn to the van and making him comfortable; hooking up the GPS so they wouldn’t get “lost” again.

Rafa climbed in the van once more to speak to Anissa. “Make sure he doesn’t sleep,” he said, motioning toward Quinn. “And he was talking total gibberish earlier. Just ignore everything he says.”

Rafa, Miri, Felix, and Logan stood in silence as they watched the other van drive away from the side of the road. Leaving Quinn alone with the crew was a potential liability. Who knew whether Quinn actually had any dirt on Rafa? But it was a risk Rafa was going to have to take. The other option—leaving Miri—was out of the question.

The Amazon wasn’t a place for the faint of heart. In all Rafa’s years and all his wild adventures with GloGeo , he’d never had one quite like this. At the very least, all his other escapades had had a concrete destination.

And in all those other undertakings, his goals had been the same as everyone else’s. This was uncharted territory for Rafa.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Rafa said, though what he really needed was a moment to himself to figure out how the heck he was going to get out of this mess.

He walked twenty feet into the forest and rounded a tree to go relieve himself, when a giant tarantula scurried out in front of him. Nope , he thought to himself, changing direction. When he finally found a spot that looked clear, he took his break and allowed his mind to spin as he sorted through his options. Not that Rafa ever had a solid plan, but being stuck out in the middle of nowhere certainly wasn’t part of it. Though, the more he thought about it, maybe he didn’t need a plan at all. Perhaps all he needed to do was convince Miri that the accident and Quinn’s injury were a bad omen.

He made his way back to the van to find Felix and Logan rolling a couple of downed logs out of the dense forest toward the clearing by the road to sit on.

“Where’s Miri—I mean, Dr. Jacobs?”

Felix responded without even looking in Rafa’s direction as he fumbled with the log. “She said something about taking some measurements. She went that way,” he said, pointing toward the opposite direction from where Rafa had been.

Rafa set out into the jungle, quickly losing sight of the road. Jeez, where the hell had she gone? Didn’t she realize how dangerous it was to wander off in the rainforest alone? The dense forest was full of plants he’d never seen in real life. Bromeliads. Acai palms. Trees taller than imaginable. He walked in what seemed a straight line, but quickly realized there was no going straight when trekking through the rainforest. Shit . He spun around, unsure which direction he’d even come from, when he heard a faint voice coming from beyond a stand of trees.

“?‘Fuck it all up,’?” Miri said, talking to herself and clearly unaware she had an audience. “?‘Leave her in charge?’?” Her tone was mocking as she paced around, pantomiming.

“That’s right, Dr. Dipshit,” she continued. “Look who’s in charge now . I’m a fucking badass!” she proudly proclaimed as she sprinted toward a vine hanging from a tree, grabbing the woody rope and swinging from it like Indiana Jones. But with a quick snap , the vine broke, sending Miri crashing to her ass.

“ Oof! ” she grunted.

Rafa flinched for a moment, ready to jump to her aid, when she quickly stood and brushed off, then looked up at the vines again. Searching for another option.

This time, she reached up and tugged on a vine first, then walked back a few feet before running and attempting the stunt again. She soared through the air, then let go of the vine for a dismount and landed flat on her face. Ouch.

“Fuck!” She pushed herself up onto all fours and growled.

She brushed herself off more forcefully this time, then huffed before trying yet again. And landing this time on her knees on dismount.

What exactly was she even trying to do? Win an award in the Most Ungraceful Vine-Swinging Competition? From his observation, there wasn’t anywhere for her to go. Nothing for her to accomplish. Swinging around the jungle wasn’t exactly a skill that needed to be mastered. But whatever her goal, she certainly had tenacity, never giving up. Just like her van antics earlier in the morning. Rafa admired her gumption and spirit. Had to admit—Miri was one of a kind.

Rafa pulled out the camera, documenting her attempts. Observing her through the lens, focusing on each subtle movement of her face and the determination in her eyes. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched her.

Attempt number five: Miri let out a gibberish raspberry and shook every part of her body like Elvis gyrating onstage. “Here we go,” she said, taking off on the vine and calling out like Tarzan.

Rafa laughed softly under his breath.

Miri’s head snapped in his direction, catching him capturing her on camera.

Shit . He lowered the camera, and their eyes connected as she set her feet to the ground.

“Are you taking pictures of me?” She narrowed her eyes at him, one hand on her hip, the other clinging to a vine overhead.

Rafa glanced at the camera in his hands. Okay, sure. It didn’t look good. But he hadn’t intended to stand there for so long. It wasn’t his fault that he was so captivated by her. Besides, it was his job to document the expedition. And candid photos were always better than the posed ones.

“I was looking for you,” he said, standing from his crouched position behind a fern and tucking the camera behind his back.

“From the other side of the camera lens, hiding behind a fern?”

“Yes?” He was questioning himself more than anything.

“You know, Rafa, some would say it looked like you were spying on me. Again.” She stared at him pointedly as she pursed her lips.

He cocked his head. “First off, this morning I was simply enjoying a cup of coffee when you decided to audition for Brazilian Ninja Warrior across the street from me. And second, I wasn’t spying. If I was spying, you wouldn’t have seen me. Trust me, Miri, I know how to conceal myself. If I didn’t want you to see me, you wouldn’t have.”

“You should have announced your presence,” she said.

“You’re right. But candid shots are more impactful.”

“You can’t use those!” she protested, letting go of the vine and walking toward him.

“Why not?” he asked, ticking his head to the side.

“Because I probably look ridiculous. I don’t want you putting a photo of me face down in the dirt in GloGeo ,” she said, reaching for the camera.

He stepped back, pulling the camera tighter to his chest. “Why would you assume that’s the photo I’d choose?”

“Because…because I’m a joke.” She hung her head. “It’s only day two…and you heard Dr. Quinn. I’ve already fucked everything up.”

Rafa’s heart ached for her. Sure, he wanted to convince her to scrap this whole thing and pack up the team. But he didn’t want her to blame herself. It wasn’t her fault this expedition was a flaming fiasco.

“I wouldn’t put too much credence into what Quinn thinks,” Rafa said, rolling his eyes at the thought of Quinn. “That man is a grade-A asshole—”

“Who happens to be a well-respected archaeologist. Once he gets better and tells people about what’s happened out here, I’ll be a laughingstock. And those pictures will only solidify that fact. I can already see your article now. ‘Failure in the Amazon: How Dr. Miriam Jacobs Fucked It All Up,’?” she said, waving her hands in the air like reading a movie marquee.

Rafa burst out laughing. “That’s a terrible title,” he said, covering his mouth. “And it would never pass copyedits.”

“See? I’m not even good at describing how colossally bad my botch jobs are!” she said.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” he said with a smile. But the worried look on her face didn’t seem to buy it. He softened his eyes at her. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened to Quinn. No one asked him to try to be a hero. You didn’t put his hand under the wheel.”

“But I put us out here—”

“No, I did. If anyone’s responsible for our current situation, Pringles, it’s me.”

Miri shouldering the guilt didn’t sit right with him.

“Had I not changed course, though—” she started.

“And what if you’re right?”

Shit. Shit. Shit. The words came out so quickly without a second thought. What was he doing? Was he helping her?

She looked up at him, her pretty sapphire eyes sparkling from behind the lenses of her glasses. “You mean that?” she asked.

A tingling sensation fluttered in his stomach as he stared at her. Her eyes were hopeful—someone believed in her, even if she didn’t believe in herself.

He wouldn’t—no, he couldn’t —be the one to break her down.

“Of course I do. Hey, it’s a lost city. No matter which direction you take, it can’t be any worse than the last person who tried, right?” he said, trying to deflect. “And if you’re worried about the article, think of it this way—I promise, if this ends up a bust, I’ll make sure you get a title worth bragging about.”

She smiled, sending another wave of warmth over his skin. “Thank you,” she said.

His resolve faded as he gazed at her mouth. She shifted her stance into a beam of light poking its way through the tree canopy, casting a glimmering sheen across her lips like a beacon calling his name. The call from a paradise tanager stole his attention as it flitted through the trees, and he cleared his throat.

“Look, if you’re bothered by the photos, I’ll delete them,” he said, bringing the camera up and turning it back on. “It’s not like we were doing expedition-type stuff anyway.”

“Can I see them first?”

“What? The pictures?”

She nodded.

“Okay.” He turned his body toward her and lifted the camera so they could both see. Her arm brushed up against him as she leaned in, and for the briefest moment, they glanced at each other, sending a pleasant jolt through his body.

One by one, he scrolled through the photos. Frankly, if he hadn’t witnessed it with his own eyes and the photos were the only thing to go on, one would think Miri was that badass vine-swinging adventurer she’d been trying to emulate.

“Hmm…I look rather good,” she said, causing Rafa to laugh. “What, you don’t agree?”

Her smile was wide and charming, and…damn. She was getting to him again.

“I appreciate the confidence, that’s all,” he said.

“Well, I mean, I’m sure it has more to do with your skill as a photographer than my acrobatic prowess, but Tarzan better watch out. There’s a new swinger in town!”

This time, Rafa burst out laughing.

“You laughing at my talents?” she said with a grin.

“No, I’m laughing at you calling yourself a swinger.”

“Swinger, schwinger,” she said, shrugging.

He hung his head and chuckled. “That’s not any better.”

“Whatever. I’d like to see you try,” she said, handing a vine to him.

“If you want to fill me in on what exactly you were trying to do out there, I’d be delighted to try,” he said, laying on the playfulness.

“I was trying to swing and then launch into the air and land like this,” she said, demonstrating a crouched position on the ground straight out of Lara Croft: Tomb Raider .

“All right. Here,” he said, lifting the camera strap over his head and handing it to her. “Watch me and weep.”

Not that he had any experience with vine-swinging in the jungle, but he couldn’t resist her goading. He yanked on the vine, making sure that it would hold his weight, then with a quick intake of his breath, he backed up, then ran and lifted himself from the ground, tucking his feet beneath him before swinging his legs through and launching himself in the air, landing on the ground in more of a Spider-Man stance than Lara Croft, but, hey, it was pretty damn good for a first attempt.

“What the hell?! How did you do that?” she said as she lowered the camera from her face.

“Now, hold on a minute,” he said with a smile, “were you taking pictures of me?”

She brought her shoulder to her chin with a coy smirk. “It’s only fair, don’t you think?”

He laughed and walked over to her to inspect the photos. Though while Rafa’s vine technique was a solid nine-point-five to Miri’s six-point-two, the pictures told a different story. Judging by these photos, Rafa’s skill looked more like it would be something that would end up on America’s Funniest Home Videos than American Ninja Warrior .

“These are horrible,” he said with a hearty laugh.

“Horribly amazing, you mean,” she said with a grin.

“Maybe don’t quit your day job, that’s all.”

She playfully shoved him in the stomach.

Warmth washed over his face. Had a woman ever touched him like this? So playfully? Teasingly? Delicately? He couldn’t recall, but man, he liked it.

“Show me,” Miri said. “Teach me how to do that jump thing you did.”

“I don’t even know exactly what I did.”

“Yeah, well, it was better than what I did.”

“Okay, here,” he said, walking over to set the camera on a rock then returning to Miri. “So what you want to do is when you get off the ground, tuck your legs up like this,” he said, demonstrating by pulling himself up on the vine then returning to the ground. “And then when you’re getting close to completing your arc, bring your legs back like this, then launch yourself into the air. Go ahead and try.”

She took a deep breath, then brought back the vine before trying again.

And she fell straight down.

“Dammit!” she said, throwing her hands to her sides. “What am I doing wrong?”

“You’re not swinging through. Here, like this.” He took the vine and pulled himself up again, showing the follow-through with his legs. “Just try that right here. Lache pas la patate,” he said, walking back to her and holding the vine in his hand.

“What does that mean?”

“It means ‘Don’t give up the potato.’?”

Miri stopped mid-grab and burst out laughing, placing her hands on either side of her head and resting it on his chest. With a natural ease, he held her for a moment as she giggled in his arms. He couldn’t help but smile as he looked down at the top of her head, taking in the moment.

“No, it does not,” she said as she lifted her head away from his body. He smiled, knowing she’d like that saying, before finally releasing her from his arms.

“Literally, yes. Figuratively, it means don’t give up. Now take it,” he said. He handed the vine back to her, and she lifted herself up and tried the swing, but nope. Still didn’t work.

“Okay, let me help you. Pull yourself up,” he said, standing beside her.

She tried again, but this time he placed his hands below her ass and assisted her swing through. She sucked in a sharp breath, as if his touch sent that same familiar jolt through her body as hers had done to him. As if she wasn’t used to this feeling. Used to being touched this way. Or at all. And as if just realizing what he’d done, Rafa let her go and took a step back.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” he started.

But Miri put her hand on Rafa’s forearm to stop him from apologizing. “Can we try again?”

Her deep blue eyes summoned him, almost as if they were saying something else. Inviting him into her space. She took a step forward, facing him head-on, then reached her arms above her head, her eyes never straying from his face. He circled around her body to her side, but this time she made no effort to lift herself, clearly waiting instead for him to assist.

He placed one hand under her thighs, then lifted her off the ground. So close he could take in her scent. She smelled like lily of the valley: sweet, delicate, and with a hint of lemon. Even with remnants of dirt on her face from her earlier falls and a few pieces of twig and leaves in her hair, he’d never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his life. But not only that. He wanted to brush his lips against hers, taking in her nervous breaths through his every sense before pressing his mouth to hers. Run his tongue along the opening of her mouth until she let him in, commingling her tongue with his. Slowly massage their lips together. Savor every part of that kiss.

“Like this?” she said brightly, bringing his attention back to their practice session.

He cleared his throat. “Yep, that’s it.” He moved back and refocused his energy. “Now go ahead and try the whole thing.”

With a deep breath, Miri took several steps back, then ran and did the routine in one seamless movement with a perfect landing.

“Oh my God! I’m queen of the jungle!” She jumped up and down, cheering for herself, giddy and cute as all get-out. As he watched her dancing around like she’d kicked a game-winning football goal, a sense of pride overtook him. Witnessing her succeed, even at something as silly as completely pointless vine-swinging in the jungle, warmed his soul.

It was then that Rafa realized Miri wasn’t the only thing falling in the jungle.

Forget what he’d said earlier. They weren’t fucked. He was.