by Ellie Hall
He grins. “Exactly.”
We pause on the trail because this feels like a moment, the kind not to breeze by in a hurry. Shaw, for all his manliness, wears a boyish smile and bites his lip again. When it comes to this man’s mouth, I’m like a bird that zeroes in on shiny things, a squirrel greedy for acorns, a caiman laying in wait for a big juicy human. I prepare to leap into Shaw’s arms on short notice.
But the look he gives me glues me to the spot. It’s sultry in this heat. It’s filled with longing. Desire. The kind that can only come from someone who calls himself @PacManWizard.
Because if I know anything at all, it’s that I fell in love with this guy before I ever saw his face...or his biceps, pecs, and the rest of his beefcake body.
Yes, I’m a modern woman, but I have eyes, hormones, and needs, people!
Shaw brushes a loose piece of my hair that adhered to my damp forehead. If only we could’ve been stranded on the streets of Paris or someplace more glamorous.
“I’d like to go for it with you, Cookie.” His voice is deep, scratchy.
“Full send,” I breathe, but before I can say more, we’re kissing again.
It could start storming. The road could wash away. I could wind up at the end of the Amazon, emptying into the Atlantic Ocean.
I wouldn’t care. Out from behind the screen, this kiss is the realest thing I’ve ever experienced. Last night was a warm-up, but standing here in the jungle with Shaw’s bear paw hand gripping my jaw I feel wild, free, and more like myself than I ever have. Like anything is possible. Like maybe I’ve found my Marriage Match—not just for the pact but for real.
His lips on mine are the best kind of reality.
I press my palms against the firm ridges of Shaw’s back, drawing him closer, breathing in his minty-lime scent. Yes, even after not showering he still smells...okay. Like him. It’s something primal that draws me to him. Something wild and immense and natural like this rainforest.
Shaw’s scruff scratches my cheeks slightly, but his lips against mine are gentle, soft, and like a promise.
We can type and talk all day and night but this kiss tells me everything I need to know about us.
That we’re for real. That my feelings are true.
Shaw whispers, “More.”
And the kiss deepens, taking me over the edge of my thoughts and into pure sensation once more. Worry about finding the resort, my job, and the future slips away. I’m just here, now, with this wonderful @PacManWizard.
The kiss only stops after Shaw marks a trail of kisses from my lips, along my jaw, to my ear where he whispers, “So you remember your way back.” Then continues along my neck before kissing the back of my hand like he did in the Hansel and Gretel cottage.
I’m reminded of the neon tape breadcrumb trail he’s marking along the trees so we’ll find our way to the cabin in case we don’t find shelter.
But I have a feeling I won’t be getting lost. Not with Shaw in my life.
When we start walking again, I bring up the bookmark we’d left in our conversation. “So do you have a dream?” I ask.
Without hesitation this time, he says, “You know how there’s the idea that a person is either a nerd and likes computers, books, and things like that or they’re outdoorsy, a jock, and like sports?”
“Sure. That’s a stereotype though.”
“True and I’d like to do something to change it. Take me for example, I love this—” He holds his arms up.
I wrinkle my nose. “Are we in the same place? Because all I see are endless trees in every direction.”
“I know, I know. It’s not for everyone. But I do like adventure and also really like coding and creating programs on computers and protecting them from viruses and hackers and all of that.”
“So you want to bridge the two?” I ask, picking up on his meaning.
“Exactly. I want to run a program, like a summer camp, where kids get the best of both worlds. They learn outdoor skills and have fun in nature while also getting their geek on.”
“Wow. That’s cool.” There’s no mistaking the air of admiration in my voice. “I would’ve really loved that when I was younger. Tell me more about it. What inspired you?”
While we walk, Shaw outlines his entire business plan. If I were someone else, I’d probably get bored but because we’re in the same field and because I have ideas for my own business, his ideas rivet me.
Also, it’s not like we have anything else to do other while we tromp through the wilderness. He tells me about how he originally lived in Boston and moved to San Francisco for work, eventually creating DigiPower.
“Took me away from where I’d grown up—a backwater town south of the city with a father who had a drinking problem and a mother who was hardly around. It was ugly.”
I get the sense he doesn’t talk about his past much, so I don’t press.
“I found solace in nature when I could get out of the house and in computers when I was at home.”
“As far as escapes go, there could be worse.”
“I suppose you’re right. Good thing I didn’t become a street thug.”
I affectionately squeeze Shaw’s biceps. “You’d be an asset to any gang.”
He laughs, releasing some of the tension of the moment. I’m guessing it took a lot for him to share the more personal aspects of his past and goals for the future.
“I know all about that thug life though, as it is, I’m on a hot guy high.” I slap my hand over my mouth. “That wasn’t for you. I was composing a text to the Fabulous Five in my head.”
His laughter comes even easier this time. “You are—”
“Criminally cringeworthy?”
“I was going to say adorkable.”
“Go on...”
“And beautiful, gorgeous.”
I brace for another kiss, not sure I can handle one without being nearby an emergency room. But Shaw pecks me on the temple, slings his arm over my shoulder and we keep walking.
At this rate, we may never reach civilization, but I’m not sure I care anymore.
“What about you? In our messages, you’ve mentioned making your cooking blog into a business.”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure anything will ever come of it though.”
“Why not?” He nudges me, and the gentle touch sends a flare to the memory of our kiss. Who needs gainful employment, a 401K, and retirement goals when I have that?
My breath is tight in my chest. “It’s not secure.”
“Hate to tell you, Cookie, but neither is your current job. Over the years, Rick changed a lot, and I’m afraid Simon isn’t much better. Maybe worse. Let’s play the virtual game. Say we get back to the group. You’re let go from your job. What will you do?”
“I’ll go to the grocery store, buy five-pound bags of flour, sugar, butter, eggs, you know, all the baking supplies, and I’ll bake a triple-layer cake.”
“Chocolate or vanilla?”
“Both. Rich milk chocolate frosting over fluffy vanilla sponge.”
He wipes his mouth. “I’m practically drooling. Am I invited over?”
“Only if you’re honest about whether you like it.”
“Oh, I like it.”
“But you haven’t tried it.”
Shaw smirks. “So then what? After you eat cake what will you do?”
I bounce on my toes as a new direction detours from the dead-end I’d previously seen. “Then I’ll celebrate my freedom—I’ll photograph the cake and announce to my social media and blog followers that I’m going full time.”
He cheers. “There you go. That’s the spirit.”
But as what appears to be an endless, overgrown trail stretching before us with no resort in sight, my thoughts dip. “But IRL, I’ll go to the grocery store, get a tub of ice cream to go with whatever remains of the cake, return home, and eat away my jobless sorrows.” I sigh like it’s hopeless.
Shaw abruptly stops walking and I prepare for him to give me a pep talk. In
stead, he says, “Stop.” He grabs my arm tightly.
“Is Webster back?” I startle and then look down a sheer cliff.
15
Cora
The vertical drop is at least twelve feet down—about the height of the first story of a house. In the distance, the roofline of a resort with what looks like electricity and running water shines like an oasis.
“That’s problematic,” I say. “But I’m not sure which is better, a deadly wandering spider or a plunge to the death.”
Shaw surveys our surroundings, taking command. “There’s no way around it unless we go into the river. But that’s too dangerous.”
My stomach tightens and flips as I gaze down.
“Afraid of heights?” he asks.
“No. Afraid of breaking a bone. I like my limbs intact and my blemish-free skin. Not a big fan of scars or massive head wounds.”
“You have a point, but we have the rope.”
I squish up my face and blurt. “About that. Two hours back I realized we left it in the cabin fastened to the door.”
Shaw sighs. “It doesn’t look like we can climb down and we don’t have another choice unless we want to take a swim.”
“Gorgon-zilla likes the water, right?”
“That would be yes.”
“What did the Jeeps do? I don’t imagine they became amphibious.”
“That was before the storm. Thing is, even if the others are looking for us, they can’t get past this water either.”
Shaw points toward the ribbon of water and the road beyond that winds through the forest. “It’s a long walk.”
“It’s a long fall.”
We’re bound on one side by the river that snakes through the rainforest and overflowed onto the path and on the other side by the jungle itself with thick underbrush that looks nearly impenetrable even with the machete.
“We have to jump and hope for a soft landing,” he says.
Shaw’s smile is pure Harrison Ford right now. Pure cocky mischief. Mine could only be described as wide-eyed terror.
“Your virtual cooking and baking blog scenario could be your real life. What’s stopping you?”
My shoulders drop. Why talk about this now? “I want the security that a regular job brings.”
“Hate to break this to you, but our bosses dumped us out here in the middle of the Amazon Rainforest. What about this situation suggests job security?”
I let out a long breath.
“You know that I make a solid point. I thought by getting into technology, I’d have more freedom. You thought you’d have security. I have less. Part of me doesn’t want a life dictated by a secure job. I value my freedom more. Think about it this way, how did the tech giants, cars, or anything innovative come into existence? Because people defied convention and struck out on their own, followed their dreams, and pursued something more.”
I straighten, listening to what he’s saying. “I don’t want a life dictated by other people either, but what if I fail?”
“Then you’ll figure out a way forward. Just like we’re doing right now.”
I gaze toward the horizon and then meet Shaw’s chestnut-brown eyes. “And what’s holding you back?”
“I guess I’m afraid too.”
I incline my head in his direction. “You’re the only one holding you back. You have to get out of your own way.”
“You’re right. Exactly right. We have to take the leap forward.” He eyes the cliff.
The conversation is about our present and future.
We both glance down, knowing the only way is forward.
Our gazes lift and meet.
We exchange a lingering kiss on the lips and then link hands, giving a squeeze.
Sometimes words don’t need to be written or spoken. We both know what we want and what we have to do to get it.
We don’t quite leap, but lower down as much as we can before dropping.
The air leaves my lungs when I realize I’m briefly airborne. Shaw went first and mostly catches me, but my momentum takes him down with me. All too soon, we hit the ground with a hard thud. I’m tangled up with Shaw and our gear.
“Are you okay?” he asks, scrambling to sitting.
I pat myself down and only find a few minor scratches and a lump that is either a bug bite or might turn into a bruise. I can’t be sure. “By some miracle, yes. You?”
“I think my body will ache tomorrow, but for now, I’m okay.”
“I guess now we’ll find out what happens after you look and then leap.”
He chuckles softly.
As we continue down the track, it starts to smooth out, looking more like a dirt road and less like a path cut through the jungle.
“I think we’re headed in the right direction,” Shaw says, picking up his pace.
Hope fills me. “We’ve only been out in the wilds for about twenty-four hours, and while the Amazon River is amazing with its natural beauty and wonder, I’ve had enough adventuring to last a lifetime.”
Shaw slouches. “There I thought our adventure was just beginning.”
I beam a smile. “You and me? That’s another story.”
As we walk down the path, I start singing again and, this time, Shaw joins me. We belt out an old rock song with the chorus, “Welcome to the Jungle,” and find our harmony to a tune about finding our way home. “We’re on our way home!” we sing at the tops of our lungs.
“Webster, Gorgon-zilla, watch out, we’re on our way!” I cup my hands around my mouth and shout.
“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we get back?” Shaw asks.
“Shower, sleep, hot tub. New phone.”
“I could go for a massage.”
“I’ve never had one, but I better not get too relaxed because actually, the first thing I’m going to do is wring Simon’s skinny little neck.”
Shaw chuckles.
“Totally not joking.”
“I’m also going to find myself one of those pickle splits @CookClickChick dared me to eat.”
My insides hiccup at the reminder of dares...as in the Forever Marriage Match pact.
After a bend in the road, what look like houses on stilts come into view.
“Civilization?” I ask.
“No, I think it’s the eco-resort,” Shaw says.
I lace my fingers in his and using the last of my energy, we race forward, hand in hand. I’ve never been so thankful for pebble-lined paths and signs directing us toward the lobby.
Looking like the Amazon swallowed us whole and spit us out, we enter the main part of the wooden lodge.
Motion stops. Conversations fall silent. The tinkling of a fountain gets loud. The woman behind the desk looks like she just chugged apple cider vinegar.
Likely sounding delirious, Shaw and I take turns hastily explaining what happened.
“Then the Jeeps left and there was a storm.”
“We stayed at the gingerbread cottage from Hansel and Gretel.”
“Saw a rainbow.”
“Almost got eaten by Gorgon-zilla, and I made friends with a killer spider named Webster.”
Yes, I get some major bug-eyes from this lady whose name tag says Priscilla.
“What, you’ve never had people who were abandoned in the rainforest find their way to your posh eco-resort?”
She shakes her head and then nods slowly in confusion or understanding, I’m not sure.
“We’re with DigiPower and AmTech,” Shaw says, making slightly more sense than me.
It’s like being on the last leg of a marathon. I recognize the end is in sight and am just leaving it all on the track. You can mop me up later.
“Ah, yes, we have the rest of your group staying here as guests. Several had to go to the hospital and receive medical attention. A stinging insect bit one guy and he had an allergic reaction. Someone else forgot their inhaler. A woman fainted. Another fell and broke their ankle. It was a series of unfortunate events.” She looks apologetic.
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“And two of us went missing. Did they even realize we were gone?” I ask, incredulous. “That seems like cause for alarm. Two Americans lost in the rainforest.”
“They didn’t make us aware of any missing visitors,” Priscilla says primly from the safety of her desk where it’s dry, air-conditioned, and spider-free.
I shouldn’t get upset with her. She’s just the messenger. Nonetheless, my nostrils flare. My hands turn into fists. “Apparently, they didn’t bother to take a headcount. Like Shaw had said, it wasn’t a grade school field trip. But this unacceptable. Simon and Rick are going to pay—” I turn to Shaw for confirmation.
Sure, he can knock them out with a jab, jab, right hook, and I’m not too shabby myself after enduring a night in the jungle, but I was thinking kill codes and other hacks. However, Shaw is no longer by my side. Instead, he’s in the arms of a redhead with long legs.
My stomach drops as I recall the real purpose of the retreat. It’s like a tranquilizer dart to the heart. One of us is going to be let go and I’m certain it’s me. The truth is, we hardly know each other. Maybe @PacManWizard had a girlfriend and the whole thing on the HUB was just a silly flirtation.
The kisses were for the purposes of survival. Maybe the Boy Scout learned that people need more than food, water, and shelter to make it through the night in the Amazon.
I blink a few times, my mind spinning. Despite our connection, Shaw’s encouragement to follow my foodie dreams, and how sure I’d been that there was something between us, dissolves.
In an instant, I drop from my hot guy high and crash over my crush. I turn away from the future I’d envisioned with him.
“Is there a room for Cora Albright by any chance?” I ask, turning back to Priscilla.
Her fingers fly over the keyboard and I force myself not to think about messaging @PacManWizard on the HUB. “Ah, yes. Here you are. I see there were about thirty of you in this group reservation. Lucky for you it’s our slow season.” She passes me a room card.
