Then he felt it, the first drops of rain. He couldn’t waste any time. If he didn’t build them a shelter, she would be exposed to the elements all night. If nothing else, he needed to keep her safe, until he could figure out what to do.
Grant looked through their things for anything that might be useful to help him build a shelter but there was nothing, aside from the knife and his wits. The easiest thing to construct would be a lean-to, especially since he couldn’t safely move her. He could build it up against the banana tree using bamboo poles, then use the leaves for a roof. He just had to figure out how to secure it all together! A lean-to was a primitive haven, but at least it would protect them from the wind and rain, and with a little elbow grease, he could build it in less an hour. He lifted Joss’ arm to check the time. It was almost four o’clock.
He looked at her watch again, a look of relief spreading across his handsome, mud stained face.
“Atta girl,” he said, slipping it off her wrist. “You just saved me a ton of time.”
He quickly pulled the watch apart, placing everything but the paracord into her bag. The rest of the survival items could possibly come in handy, especially the flint.
“I’ll be right back,” he reassured, taking a moment to stroke her hair. He was still worried about her, preferring to stay near by, but he had to get supplies for the shelter.
Over the next hour he came and went, bringing back bamboo poles and fronds. The thunder echoing in the distance, was creeping closer and closer to the island. He looked up through the canopy towards the darkening sky. The drizzle coming down a little steadier, warned him of the downpour to come.
He quickly assembled the shelter, using the paracord to secure the largest pole between the trees closest to Joss. He tied each end securely before leaning the thinner poles side by side against the lean-to. He didn’t plan on being there long, so making it perfect was not his priority. He just needed to keep them warm and dry for the night. Hopefully Joss would be okay by the morning. He forced himself not to think beyond that or consider the worst. His needless worrying would serve no one.
He left and returned several more times, his arms loaded with fronds. He was grateful he didn’t have to go far for those and was able to find enough to make the roof relatively waterproof. He was just glad she was finally out of the rain. Ideally he would have liked her off the ground, but it would have to do. He made a rudimentary curtain with the rest of the fronds, to protect the open side of the shelter. Without a fire, they would need it to keep out mosquitos, along with the rain and wind. Finally, he pushed away as much ground cover and debris as he could, clearing the area to make it less desirable for snakes, spiders and insects to cuddle up beside them throughout the night. It had already cooled off more than he liked. His best guess was it was that it was probably 68 degrees, and dropping. Once the storm hit, it would get much colder.
He pulled their supplies into the lean-to, tucking them out of the way before settling in beside Joss. He wished he’d had a blanket to cover her, or at least the wrap she was always wearing around camp. He had worked up quite a sweat and it wouldn’t be long before he felt the chill himself, but he wouldn’t dare take back his shirt. She needed it more than he did. Grant slapped a mosquito off his forearm, before refilling an empty bottle with water they’d collected at the waterfall. He knew he was taking a risk drinking unboiled water, but he had no choice, he was dangerously dehydrated. He was fairly certain it was clean and fire was definitely not going to be an option that night.
Joss groaned softly, unconsciously shifting her left leg. It was the first time he’d seen her move since the fall, and he let out a loud sigh of relief, as though he’d been holding his breath the whole time. Seeing her finally move almost made him cry; she could have easily been paralyzed. She wasn’t out of the woods yet, but at least she’d be able walk out on her own accord.
He wished he’d brought his cell phone, for light, so he could continue examining her throughout the night. He hated admitting it, but he was nervous. He wasn’t thrilled being out in the middle of the jungle without a fire. As if on cue, the lightning cracked over head, lighting up their rickety little shelter. Oddly enough, it didn’t make him feel any safer.
* * *
The storm blew in quickly, soaking the ground beneath them. Grant surrounded Joss with leaves, and for several hours, tried to keep her as warm and dry as possible. It didn’t help much, but at least it was something. He thought he could hear her teeth chattering, laughing when he realized it was him. He cuddled up beside her to share her body heat. It surprised him how comforting it was, feeling her body so close to his own. It had been a long time since he’d held a woman, and being beside her reminded him just how lonely that had been.
He’d done it to himself, the self-imposed exile. Plenty of women wanted to date him, he was a pilot after all. He liked to pretend it was his rugged features and charming personality (said tongue-in-cheek) but in truth, it was the uniform. The ladies loved it. When he’d drop into the local watering-hole after work, they would buy him drinks, slip him their numbers, even outright ask him to take them home, but he rarely did.
If luck was his middle name, bad was his first. He’d told Joss earlier that he was cursed and he meant it. He’d always thought he was better off alone, at least then he didn’t have to worry about bringing harm to anyone else. Forget about falling in love. He could never let himself do that again.
Joss groaned beside him, her breath shallower, more controlled, as though she was coming to. He sat up and leaned over her. Although his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he could only see the form of her body and face. She whimpered quietly, making him reach for her hand.
“It’s okay, I’m here. Try not to move,” he urged, gently squeezing her fingers.
“Wh...what happened? Where are we...” she asked, trying to shift herself. The pain was obviously too much. “Ow, fuck.” She raised a hand to her head, pressing it to the back of her skull.
“We’re in the jungle. You fell out of the tree, hit the ground hard. Scared the piss out of me, you did,” he offered calmly, trying not to worry her. She tried to brush the fronds off of herself, but Grant stopped her, gently touching her shoulder. “Leave yourself covered, girly, the mozzies are biting pretty bad.”
“Ah, we’re back to girly I see. How long have I been out?” she chuffed, still trying to get her bearings straight.
“About four hours, I reckon.”
She eased her hand away from his, and raised her wrist, as through trying to read her watch. Grant gently laid her hand back down on her chest, patting it warmly.
“I took it apart,” he whispered, “to build the shelter. The rest of your watch is in a safe place.”
“My lighter, it’s inside my right pocket. Did you find it?” she asked, her voice cracking from thirst.
“No, Joss, I didn’t think you’d appreciate me feeling you up,” he teased. He’d actually never thought to check her pockets. Her lighter wouldn’t have helped much anyway, aside from offering a little bit of light. It was too wet to make a fire.
“Grab it for me?” she pleaded, his flirty words missing their mark. He shifted himself so he could reach into her pocket, mindful not to caress her more than he had to. It wasn’t easy. Resting beside her had stirred something up in him, an arousal he’d been unacquainted with for a long time.
“I found it,” he said, raising his hand.
“Will you light it? I need to get my bearings straight.”
He did as she asked and lit the space for several seconds, until the lighter got too hot to handle. He had to admit, as hastily as he had slapped the shelter together, it didn’t look too shabby.
“Not bad,” she whispered. “Is there any water?”
“Yes, but it’s not boiled. It’s the water we collected today.”
“Have you been drinking it?” she asked. He could sense she was trying to rise up and slipped his arm behind her.
“Yeah. Go easy, rea
l slow, mate. I’m worried you might have really busted yourself up,” he pleaded, helping her upright.
“I think I’m okay. Must have landed on my tailbone though. It feels pretty bruised.”
“You scared me pretty bad.”
“I don’t even remember falling,” she admitted. “I feel like an idiot.”
Grant stroked her back, biting his tongue. He’d warned her not to do it, but reminding her of that wasn’t going to make her feel any better. Joss let out a deep breath and cradled her head in her hands. Her quiet sobs filling their tiny space, drowning out the nighttime cricket chorus. He held her awkwardly, wishing he knew the right thing to say. Comforting women was not something that came easy to him.
“You’re alright, mate,” he soothed, hating how graceless he felt. “It’s gonna be fine.”
“I can’t believe that happened. What was I thinking?” she sobbed, stiffening under his hug. He could tell she hated feeling so vulnerable. He was all too familiar with that feeling himself. He discreetly released his embrace, unsure what she wanted from him, what she needed. Was his touch unwelcome?
She sighed, roughly wiping the tears off her face, staring at him through the dark. Neither of them moved, as though both were struggling with unfamiliar emotions. He wished he could read her mind. The silence was torture.
“I need to pee,” she blurted, rolling away from him, pawing the ground for her boots.
“Easy, slow down,” he insisted, reluctantly handing them to her. He didn’t like the idea of her moving around so much, especially since they didn’t really know the extent of her injuries. “I’ll go with you.”
“I think I’m quite capable of peeing on my own,” she scoffed, pulling her boots on.
“Girly, you fell fifteen feet out of a tree and have been unconscious for the last four hours. You have no idea what you’re capable of at the moment,” he pressed, doing his best to control his patience. He hated that she could be so bullheaded. “I’m going with you.”
“I’m fine, Captain. I’ll be right back,” she offered sternly, pushing her palm into his chest, leaving no doubt she meant to go alone. He rolled his eyes, confident the darkness would mask his irritation. God, she was stubborn! Joss pulled his shirt away and handed it to him before slipping out of the shelter.
The rain chilled her instantly, her violent shivers making her head ache worse than it already did. Her stomach dangerously rolled in her gut. She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle, willing herself not to vomit. She didn’t want to admit it, especially to him, but she was not in good shape. She was grateful that she didn’t break her neck, but she definitely didn’t come away unscathed, and on top of everything else, her ego was badly bruised.
She’d made a mistake, climbing that tree. He was right, they were too exhausted to push themselves and she had insisted, refusing to look weak in front of him. Maybe she had been trying to prove something to him; that she deserved the respect the other men had given her, that same respect she needed from him. She wanted him to see how strong and capable she was, to be impressed with her, and it went horribly wrong.
She walked as far as she dared, her feet landing heavily with every step, as though walking through cement, gravity reminding her that her feet belonged on the ground. She found a good spot to pee and dropped her shorts, crouching awkwardly, her spinning head offering nothing to ease the nausea. Don’t puke, don’t puke, don’t puke, she silently pleaded, using a nearby tree to hold herself steady.
But she did vomit, the violent contractions splitting her head in two. She was dangerously close to passing out, and she knew it. The last thing she needed was Grant to find her, lying unconscious in her own body fluids. Wouldn’t that be the icing on top of a shit day? But it was happening, black spots floating in front of her eyes, the cold rain the only thing keeping her acutely aware of her surroundings. She was slipping, out of her own body, self-control sifting through her fingers like beach sand, unable to hold on to a single grain.
“No,” she cried out, “God, please, no...”
Suddenly she felt herself being lifted, raised to her feet and supported by strong hands, her body shielded from the cold and rain.
“I got you,” he whispered in her ear. “I got you, Joss.”
Chapter 17
She remembered very little from the night before, just short snippets captured in quick, curious flashes. Grant’s eyes gazing calmly into hers as he gave her water, a tender word here and there offering comfort and reassurance, a warm body cradling her against the suffering cold. It was as though her own vulnerability allowed him to truly let his guard down, to offer intimacy. His kindness confused her.
He seemed so distant, when she was sobbing earlier, like her emotions were off-putting, weak even. She hated losing control in front of him. She knew it wasn’t unusual for people to have strong reactions upon waking from unconsciousness; anger, rage, fear, and sometimes even tears, but he’d pulled away and distanced himself. What really she needed was his reassurance, affection, forgiveness. Why was it so hard for him to see that?
She felt like they were balancing on an emotional tightrope around each other, navigating every step, pushing forward at a snail’s pace. It was frustrating and exhausting trying to see beneath the veil he so carefully hid behind.
Yet at the same time he could be so nurturing and tender. Although she was not fully coherent, she did remember him carrying her back to the shelter, redressing her, washing the dirt off her face. He’d meticulously taken care of her through the night, waking her every few hours in case she had a concussion, whispering to her, kissing her...
Did he kiss her, or had she been dreaming? All she remembered was how delicious his lips felt on hers, warm, reassuring, persuasive. It had only been a moment but the feeling stirred something lost in her, something she thought was gone forever. It was as though his kiss had invited her home, through the deepest parts of her soul, back to herself.
It must have been a dream.
Joss opened her eyes, allowing them adjust to the light. She expected to find Grant beside her but he was gone. She slowly sat up, allowing the dizziness to ebb. She’d pushed herself too hard, that was for certain. It was one of her greatest faults. Her pride could sometimes be a liability. For the most part, she had learned to control it, but Grant pushed her buttons. Not that she was blaming him. No, she was totally accountable for her actions, her bad decisions, but for some reason he’d gotten the best of her and she needed to figure out why.
The cozy scent of a campfire wafted through the natural curtain, inviting her to investigate. She pulled on her boots and crawled through the opening, greeted by Grant’s smile. It was a welcoming sight.
“Morning,” she yawned, pulling up beside him. Still a little dizzy, she ran her fingers through her hair, certain she looked like death warmed over.
“Mornin,” he returned, cocking his head. “How you feeling?”
Joss pursed her lips, wishing she had better news. “To be honest, not great. Thanks for helping me out last night. I can be a bit stubborn.”
“You don’t say,” he mused, his eyes teasing her. “I found some mint growing nearby and I made tea. I thought it might settle your tummy.”
Impressed, Joss eyed the stainless steel water bottle steaming near the fire, the mint leaves steeping inside. “I’d love some. How did you find dry wood to burn?”
“I stored kindling and wood under some fronds yesterday, before the storm blew in. I thought we might want a fire once the rain stopped. It was cold as shit last night, we could have used a fire, but it didn’t stop pissing down until a few hours ago.”
He carefully lifted the tea off away from the heat, setting it on the ground next to him. “Right then, this needs a few minutes to cool.”
She nodded at him, wishing she could add some willow bark or cloves to help ease her pain. Every inch of her body was aching, like she’d run a marathon...or fallen out of a damn tree.
“Hungry?” he aske
d, passing her some mango. She shook her head, waving him off. “I think I’ll just stick to the tea for now. You go ahead,” she urged.
“Don’t mind if I do. I worked up quite an appetite yesterday, building the shelter.”
“You didn’t eat?” she asked, her brows raised in concern.
“Nah, honestly I think I had too much adrenalin coursing through me to even to think about food, but I’m hungry now,” he winked, sinking his teeth into the fleshy part of the mango.
“Sorry about that,” she blushed, still feeling the sting of her shame. She wished she could turn back the clock and make better choices.
“Don’t fret about it,” he said, gently bumping her shoulder with his own. “What’s done is done. Let’s just move past it and figure out how we’re going to get ourselves back to camp.” He threw the rind into the fire, wiping his hands on his slacks.
“Fine with me,” she agreed, offering him a weak smile. The guys were probably worried sick about them, but the way she was feeling she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hike the hour back, at least not for awhile. She was still pretty weak.
“We’ll just see how the morning goes, take things nice and slow, right?” he suggested warmly, rubbing her softly between her shoulder blades, oblivious to the mango on his face. Joss chuckled softly and raised her hand to his chin, using her thumb to wipe away the pulp. Grant grinned impishly at her.
“Hmmm, you gonna eat that?” he teased, wrapping his hand around hers. Before she could object, he pulled her thumb into his mouth, slowly sucking the juices off. She stared at him, wide eyed, surprised yet incredibly turned on by the seductive gesture.
“Delicious,” he growled, releasing her hand with a naughty wink. She was speechless. It was the last thing she’d expected from Grant, but admittedly she loved his playful side. She wished he would show it more often.
“Tea?” he asked, handing her the container, as though the sexy exchange never happened. Joss laughed and shook her head, accepting the minty brew. He tried to hide his smile from her, but failed miserably.
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