Chapter 18
JASMINE
At Isaac’s behest, we were going to spend some time on the Sinai Peninsula tonight with the Bedouin people.
We weren’t even there yet, but he was already in his element, staring out the window as the desert swallowed everything behind us, only the ribbon of road ahead signaling that there was any life out here at all.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen silence until now,” he murmured when the mountains started rising up around us like ancient guardians. “I’m serious. I think you were wrong about Sharm not having a portal to another world. I actually think we’ve just gone through one.”
I laughed. “You can see silence? I think you might need to talk to a therapist about this.”
He finally unglued his nose from the window and turned to face me, those blue eyes bright and lit up with wonder and excitement. “I can see it out here, okay? And if you can’t, I think you might be the one who needs to talk to a therapist.”
“I’ve heard the desert does this to people,” I said mildly. “It makes them hallucinate if they’re in it for too long. Or was that just something I saw in a cartoon?”
He smirked. “No, that’s real. But it’s only when the dehydration sets in. We haven’t even gotten out the car yet.”
“I know.” I leaned a little closer to him and whispered, “Imagine what you’re going to be like once we get there.”
He pulled away from me and rolled his eyes, turning back to the window as we climbed higher into the mountains. “Who knew you were so judgmental?”
“I’m not!” I reached out and gave his shoulder a playful smack. “I simply happen to take your mental health seriously. Isn’t that a good thing in a travel partner?”
“You’ll be the first person I talk to when the dehydration sets in,” he joked, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “On a more serious note, is that the camp?”
He pointed toward a settlement ahead. Low lanterns flickered between woven tents while children ran between rugs spread out across the sand. I nodded and inhaled the scent of fresh bread, grilled meat, and sweat tea, already filtering into the car.
“Yep, that’s it,” I said. “You’re seriously going to love this. The tour is really cool and the food is amazing. Simple but amazing.”
He breathed in deeply, gave an exaggerated shudder, and groaned. “Is that what I’ve been smelling, our dinner?”
“Yeah, it’ll only be after the tour, though. Maybe you should just try to breathe less. It’ll make you less inclined to eat the tents while we’re being walked through the camp.”
He laughed. “Breathe less. Right. You’re so full of helpful advice.”
We parked in the designated area just as twilight fell, joining a small group of people waiting for the tour to begin. I stuck close to Isaac’s side the entire time, catching him more than once when he almost started wandering off again.
While I’d taken this tour before, it was once again a very different experience doing it with him.
We began walking with people who were proud to share their way of life with strangers who were willing to listen.
Isaac absorbed the stories and the history they were sharing like it was nutrients.
Then he started asking dozens of questions, everything from how the tents were constructed and why certain fabrics had been woven differently, to where the timber had come from and why the doorways faced the ways they did.
Our guide finally laughed and invited us to sit with him for dinner.
He was still in the process of explaining how the tents remained cool in the daytime heat as we sat down cross-legged on our cushions.
Throughout dinner, Isaac fell easily into one conversation after another with tourists and locals alike, sharing food and stories like he’d known them all forever.
By the time tea was served, at least half the camp seemed to know us by name and it was because of him.
I glanced up at him as we made our way to the fire. “I’m starting to think you could make friends with a door.”
“Only if it had an interesting design,” he said after thinking about it for a moment.
Then he looked out at the clusters of tourists gathered under a sky that looked like it had been dusted with diamonds for all the stars out here.
“Honestly, though, this has been one of the coolest experiences I’ve ever had. ”
“Yeah. There’s nothing else like it, is there?”
“Not that I know of.”
We took our seats around the fire, joining another group and chatting until our tour guide came wandering over with a clipboard.
“My friends, it is my pleasure to tell you that we are able to offer you a tent in a more modern establishment for your lodging this evening. We’ve had a cancellation.
Another married couple in Sharm on their honeymoon couldn’t make it, which means their accommodation is available. ”
I stared up at him. “I, uh, thank you?”
“We’ll take it,” Isaac said, shifting slightly on his seat beside me. “Thank you.”
The guide beamed at us. “Excellent. I will show the way after your tea.”
He spun around to move on to the next couple and Isaac glanced down at me, amusement dancing in his eyes along with the firelight. “I think he’s mistaken us for a married couple.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “Oh, he definitely thinks we’re married. Where were we supposed to sleep?”
“The booking website said our only options were the male and female dormitory tents.”
I nodded slowly. “Well, that makes sense, but he must’ve thought that was all we could get because we booked too late. So now, he thinks he’s doing us a favor by upgrading us to a tent for married couples.”
“Well, it’s up to you,” he said. “If you’d be more comfortable?—”
“In a dormitory tent?” I scoffed and reached for his hand, wrapping my fingers around it before pulling it into my lap. “No, thank you. I hate communal sleeping arrangements, so you just got yourself a wife for the night, Mr. Thayer.”
“Okay, then.” His grip on my hand tightened and he scooted a little closer, sending me a smile so tender that it made my heart stutter. “We’re playing along, Mrs. Thayer.”
When I looked up again, an older couple we’d been chatting to at dinner was coming over to sit with us. The woman grinned as she caught my eye. “The honeymooners’ suite, huh? You two must be thrilled.”
I nearly inhaled my tea, but Isaac didn’t miss a beat. “We’re very grateful the other couple didn’t show up.”
“I bet.” The man chuckled as he lowered himself onto the low stone bench beside Isaac. “How long have you two been married?”
“A couple months,” Isaac replied easily, leaning into my side and resting his head on top of mine. “I know it’s not that long, but it’s definitely been long enough to know I married well.”
The woman sat next to her husband, laughing softly as she patted his thigh. “It’s been a while since you’ve said something like that about me.”
“Nonsense.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “I know how lucky I am. I just haven’t said it out loud.”
Isaac and I both laughed, drawing the attention of some of the others around the fire. While we spoke about our imaginary wedding and courtship, a few more people came to join us and the guide brought over a tray of marshmallows.
We took a few to roast, but somehow, Isaac managed to do it all without his hand ever leaving mine. He was playing the role of doting husband so well that I was having some real trouble not just sinking into his side.
As he spoke to a few of the men about what we’d seen and done in Egypt so far, he turned at one point to motion toward me. “You should ask Jasmine about that. She’s our adventure mastermind. I’ve been living the best version of my life with her at the helm.”
I wasn’t even sure what the guy was supposed to ask me about, but Isaac had looked straight into my eyes when he’d said that thing about living his best life and he seemed completely genuine.
It really didn’t look like part of the act.
I leaned a little closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as I smiled. “You make it easy to plan those adventures.”
That wasn’t a lie either. Maybe we were only pretending tonight, but surrounded by all these strangers who believed we already belonged to each other, the alternate reality felt pretty damn good.
Everyone around us oohed and ahhed. A couple comments about the joys of being newlyweds rippled through the group, but I didn’t care. I just rested my head on his shoulder while he regaled the others with tales of our day at Ras Mahomed.
Finally, the guide circled back to us and we followed him across the raised wooden platforms to our tent. Lanterns were strung beside the paths, casting a soft, orange glow that lit our way.
“This is it,” the guide said, sweeping a hand toward a tent that overlooked the dark desert, its canvas walls backlit by a single lamp inside. “There will be more tea at the fire when you’re ready. Maybe some dancing later too. It really depends on the group.”
“Thank you,” Isaac said.
The guide dipped his chin in a nod and left us to it. Isaac gestured for me to go first. I walked in to find layered rugs covering the wooden floors and woven blankets folded neatly at the foot of a very large bed. It was beautiful, rustic, but luxurious in all the right ways.
Isaac followed my gaze at I stared at the only problem I could see with our upgraded lodgings. “There’s only one bed.”
“Yeah.” I glanced at him. “I guess it supposed to be only for people who are married and they probably prefer to sleep in the same bed.”
He looked around the tent for a minute like he was hoping he might just have missed the second bed on his first pass, but when that didn’t happen, he loosened the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head with a tired sigh.
“I don’t know how people survive summers out here, but I’ve been dying to do that all night.” He twisted to hang the shirt over a rail near the foot of the bed, then studied our sleeping arrangements like he was still trying to figure something out.
Meanwhile, I was struggling not to study him.
I knew men occasionally removed shirts because they were hot.
It was a completely normal thing to do. Hell, I would have taken mine off if I could.
All things considered, there was absolutely no reason for me to suddenly have forgotten how words worked, but here I was, not even remembering what they were.
“First things first,” he said. “Do your parents know we’re still out here?”
Thankfully, that was probably the one thing he could’ve asked that immediately yanked my brain back online. My parents. Right.
“My mom does,” I said, finally averting my gaze from his shirtless body to take in the decorative fabric pinned to the back wall of the tent. “I let her know we’d be traveling around today and not to wait up.”
“Does that mean she won’t worry?”
I shot him a smile over my shoulder. “No, but I’m almost twenty-eight years old. I’m not a delinquent teen anymore.”
Turning in a slow circle, I decided that our rustic little tent with its one bed would do just fine for the night.
It really was gorgeous. A couple of thick candles flickered inside a lamp to illuminate the space, and with one side completely open this time of year, there was nothing but sand and desert for miles beyond.
When I finally looked back at Isaac, he’d already found an extra blanket and he was unfolding it beside the bed. I frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Making another bed,” he said, glancing up at me. “In case you’d already forgotten, they only gave us the one.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to sleep on the floor.”
“Who said I was going to be the one sleeping on the floor?” he joked. “It’s fine, Jasmine. I’ve slept in much worse places. I don’t mind.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a floor. A wooden floor. If you sleep on it, you won’t be able to move tomorrow.”
“It’s got a blanket over it.”
“It’s also got gravity.”
“Sure, but I generally get along well with gravity.” He winked and grabbed a pillow off the bed. “See, that’s all I need.”
I folded my arms and stared him down, my head shaking slowly from one side to the other. “Get in the bed, Isaac.”
“I don’t think that’s wise.”
“Why not? We’re both adults. I’m sure we can share a bed like normal people.”
He dropped the pillow on his makeshift bed and straightened up to his full height. “We’ve spent the whole night pretending to be married.”
“Exactly. We might as well keep doing it. Why draw an arbitrary line at sleeping in the same bed?”
“Arbitrary?”
“Yes. Arbitrary. Why is this different than holding hands or sitting next to each other?”
He stared at me, those blue eyes a silvery gold between the dark night and warm candlelight. “What makes it different is that it already feels weirdly intimate. Sleeping in the same bed takes that to a whole other level.”
“It’s just sleeping.”
“Yeah, but?—”
“Then stop being ridiculous.”
He glanced down at the floor, slowly lifting his gaze from the blanket on it, to the bed, and then bringing it back to mine before he let out a soft groan. “Oh, fuck it.”
Before I could ask what he meant, he closed the short distance between us in just one stride, sliding his hand up to my cheek and searching my eyes for the briefest heartbeat before his lips were on mine and he was kissing me. Softly. Gently. Like he was expecting me to pull away, but I didn’t.
I leaned into him instead, my hands gliding up his back as I tilted my head to deepen the kiss. He made a soft sound, stealing the breath from my lungs when he stroked his thumb across my cheekbone, kissing me until time stopped and I forgot all about why we shouldn’t be doing this.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears, my entire body yearning for more, but as I ran my hands up to those broad shoulders, I had a flash of him standing there in that tailor shop, being fitted for a tux for the gala, and reality came crashing back in for some reason.
I pulled away from him immediately, suddenly unable to breathe, think, or stay in this tent for even another second.
I just turned and ran, following the moonlit sand to absolutely nowhere. Behind me, he called my name, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not right now.
Maybe Isaac had been right about sleeping on the floor. We’d taken this whole pretending thing too far, and if I didn’t get away from him right now, I honestly didn’t know if I’d be able to stop it from going even further.