Chapter 25
sofía
“Welcome to Cape Tribulation,” our driver and guide, Oscar, announces, ripping into a parking spot and slamming the brakes. “Let’s take a stroll.”
My stomach churns from the choppy ride, and I leap out of the car, grateful for the solid ground beneath me. Molly appears beside me, equally green.
“He is a horrible driver,” she groans, hands on her knees. “Make sure you include that in your review.”
I side-eye her. “How did you know I review?”
I mean, I do. I review everything. People deserve to know my thoughts about a service or provider. I like to think I make a difference in people’s choices—whether I sway them into it or guide them far, far away.
Some could say I am an influencer on review platforms.
“You give off that vibe,” Molly says, presenting me with a look that says Am I wrong? “You can add that he’s knowledgeable. Was talking Doug’s ear off about prehistoric plants.”
“Really? I didn’t hear him.” I dust off some imaginary dirt from my workout dress now that my stomach has settled.
“That’s because you were busy giggling in the back with Jett,” she says, offering me another pointed yet affectionate expression. I fight the urge to fiddle with something, to evade her knowing gaze. “Oh, now she’s shy once I mention you two flirting while thinking Doug and I don’t notice.”
“It’s a part of the PR thing,” I grumble.
“You and Doug don’t notice what?” Jett asks, appearing out of thin air.
I squeak in surprise, practically leaping out of my skin, and Molly howls in laughter, wiping away the tears that brim her lashes.
Jett watches us with crinkled brows, and I hold a palm to my chest, trying to calm my racing heartbeat—a side effect from the scare and his proximity.
“How well you and Sofía work together,” she replies, her composure snapping back into place. “She’s a great addition to the team.”
“I’m lucky to have her,” he says, quiet and low, peering down at me with intensity. “Couldn’t imagine life without her.”
The words land in a way I don’t think he intends—my mind embedding them with far more meaning than he meant—but my body reacts like each word is a loud declaration.
It’s a massive problem.
Molly blinks at him, stunned. “I’m gonna…go find Doug.”
She’s gone in a flash, leaving behind me, Jett, and my growing attachment to him at the front of the boardwalk.
I don’t know what to say or how to wrap my head around what’s happening between us. We haven’t had sex—not completely—but I sleep in his bed every night, and I’ve seen the inside of my hotel room once when I had to use the bathroom and it was closer to the elevator than his.
We spend every day together; each spare moment I have, I’m with him. Some nights, we sit on opposite sides of the room, a movie playing in the background while we work. Other nights, he holds me until I fall asleep.
What I thought was a simple urge to kiss him has morphed into something I am not ready for, something I can’t have, not with him.
His fingers find the strap of my dress, slipping beneath the fabric and sliding along my skin. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs, causing my throat to dry. He roams my face, searching. “You all good?”
I flounder for a response, thrown off by the question.
Does he think I’m not okay? Did I do something that made him think I’m upset? Is he mad at me?
“I’m…okay.” I do not say the word fine. “Why? Are you all good?”
His chuckle is low, caressing along my skin. His fingers pluck the strap, releasing it so it delicately snaps against my skin. “Just checking in.”
The ease with which he communicates astonishes me. How subtly he can reassure, to stop and check in, to take a moment to reestablish.
“Oh.” The syllable comes out as a squeak. “Okay.”
Once more, he scans over me, all the way down to my toes, and then nods, like he found what he’s looking for. “Should we go look at some weird-as-shit plant life?” he asks.
I glance over to Molly and Doug, and our conversation whips through my mind.
When’s the last time you did something a little reckless?
The words repeat over and over, and before I can change my mind, I break off from the group. “Gonna run to the bathroom,” I yell over my shoulder, sprinting into the small building.
Oh, god, this is insane. Past reckless and borderline idiotic. Arguably worse than making out in the bushes. But he makes me…well, reckless. In a wonderful, secure way. And maybe I want to sink into that a little, to let loose how Doug and Molly do, but with Jett.
Hidden in the restroom’s tiny stall, I clumsily remove my panties, tripping over myself as I drag the lace down and wiggle them off. It’s not making out in the bushes, but this is wild and fun and holds a far less chance of getting caught.
I stuff them into the pocket of the dress’s built-in shorts, rearrange my boobs so they sit high on my chest, and return to the group. Jett waves me over as the guide gestures to the rainforest’s trailhead.
Doug is in full work mode, a camera slung around his neck and the drone and controller in his backpack. Molly’s beside him, and with them focused on something else, I tug at Jett’s hand.
He gives me a quizzical look but leans down when I pull his arm. “What’s up?”
Without a word, I stuff my panties into the side pocket of his cargo shorts.
My heart stammers, and regret sinks like a boulder as the adrenaline fades. That was a horrible idea. A stupid, thoughtless idea. I try to take them back, to salvage some of my sanity and pride, but Jett stops me, wrapping his hand around my wrist.
His eyes linger on the pocket, where a sliver of black lace peeks out from the opening.
“Tell me those aren’t…”
“My panties,” I whisper, then spin on my heel and bolt away.
I’m not ready for his reaction right now, so I cling to Molly, looping my arm through hers as the sunlight fades and the canopy of life grows dense. She glances at me, puzzled, but goes along with it.
“I love him like this,” she admits, zeroed in on her husband, who is shuffling around a tree the guide has pointed out.
The air is crisp, and the shade cools the temperature to something mildly more tolerable. It’s not the tree he’s focused on, but a peppermint stick insect, its elongated body and legs a near color match for the tree bark.
It skitters upward, and I leap back—right into someone else.
Warm hands bracket my hips, and my pulse skitters when they squeeze gently, reassuringly.
That is not the guide.
Jett gazes down at me, and I tilt my chin up to face him. The warm hazel of his irises glows with lust. “I got you,” he murmurs.
Between the low tone of his voice, the half-up hairstyle he rocked up with this morning that set my skin ablaze, the firm placement of his hands, and the knowledge that my panties now reside in his pockets, I’m not on the edge, I’m one move from skittering right over it.
Creepy bugs add to the jumpiness.
“This here is a wait-a-while vine,” the guide points out, “sharp and a real nightmare if you get caught on it.”
The new plant engulfs Doug’s attention, and Molly digs something out of his bag, giving him something before he even asks. A switch of a lens, and he’s taking a different video. They don’t need to speak, a comfortable, silent communication occurring between them, as natural as taking a breath.
What would it be like to have that with someone? To know them so well you no longer need words to communicate?
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” I chide, or at least try to. The question comes out breathy rather than sharp.
No one else notices Jett trapping me in his embrace, my back flush against his chest. The distinct impression of an erection lies against my ass, and my skin buzzes.
“That was the original plan,” he hums.
“What changed?”
One hand releases my waist to turn my jaw. A few simple touches and low whispers, and I’m putty in his hands.
A sensation I don’t want to name swirls in my gut, and I banish all thoughts of what happens when we leave Australia to the recesses of my mind. I’ll stew on that tonight in the sanctity of the shower.
“You’re brilliant, Sofía. I think you can put it together.”
Brilliant. He thinks I’m brilliant.
I shouldn’t latch on to his words, let them take root, but he’s so genuine, so kind, that I know he means them.
They’re not in jest, but he believes them with total conviction.
And that makes it mean so much more. Somewhere out there is a woman who will win the jackpot with Jett.
Bile burns the back of my throat, and I stamp down the discomfort.
I made the rules, so I know why we have to follow them.
Though I don’t think knowing either of those things will make it any easier when we land in LA.
“You forgot your camera,” I deflect, pulling out of his grip.
“Around the corner, you’ll see a strangler fig. They inspired James Cameron when he was creating Avatar.”
Doug, Molly, and the guide round the corner of the boardwalk, now out of sight, and I go to catch up with them and try to outrun the sick jealousy consuming me, but my arm jerks back at the first step, and I’m spun against a tree.
Jett’s right hand lifts to brace against the bark next to my head, the other hand locking me in place beneath him. Our foreheads touch, and his ragged breath mingles with mine.
My heart beats in my throat while I dart my tongue out to coat my lips.
“You are a wicked woman,” he whispers, lips tugging up at the corners.
My chest heaves, desperate to reach out and touch him, but I keep my hands glued to my sides. I’m falling too deep into this already. Physical is morphing into something emotional, and everything is muddled. Sex with him is one thing. Holding hands might plunge me into madness.
This deal has an expiration, and I would do well to remember that, no matter how much my body revolts against it.
Once we get back to LA, we’ll go back to being friends with a working relationship.
And he’ll go on dates and fall in love and hopefully find the happiness and partnership he’s been looking for. That he deserves.
And I’ll be happy for him.
My stomach cramps, twisting into knots.
“You’re right,” I murmur. “I’ll take those…”
I try to pick my panties out of his pocket, but my hand is snatched away and pinned to the tree. Who the fuck is this man, and where is the silly, shy guy from a week ago?
You give a man a blowjob, and suddenly they’re more confident than you are. This new side of Jett both thrills me and causes mild annoyance that he’s figured out how to one-up me. Maybe I’ll one-up him back.
“Don’t you dare.” He pulls the underwear out of his pocket, holding it between us. “These belong to me now. Finders keepers.”
As soon as they appeared, the garment is gone. Adiós, lace panties.
He’s looking at me as though he wants to devour me like a slice of his favorite German chocolate cake, and part of me wants to let him, to learn what he would do if I let him take charge.
I’m learning I might be a selfish woman for doing this, and I know I’ll pay the hefty price later, but for now, I’ll be greedy until it burns me.
“Hurry up, you two,” Molly yells. “The longer we’re here, the less time we have at the ice cream place.”
“Hear that? We have work to do.” I adjust his collar, clicking my tongue in faux disappointment. “And Molly agrees. Ice cream is better than sorbet.”
“That is not what she said,” Jett replies, following me before snatching me by the waist again.
I squeal, clamping down on my lip to suffocate the sound. A bubble of pure joy bursts inside me, taking root as my feet return to the ground, Jett’s hand sliding down the curve of my spine.
“Cut it out,” I hiss. “We’re supposed to be working.”
The reprimand falls short, and any higher ground I have is swallowed when his addictive grin appears. “You started it.”
Hmm. That, I did.
I bolt away, jogging down the boardwalk, his laughter chasing me as we cross a small creek. Huge circular palm leaves block the sunlight, only thin rays breaking through the tree line.
“Here we have a cluster of epiphytes,” our guide says, pointing at a number of basket ferns and orchids clinging to the sides of trees. “These are plants that live on other plants. The strangler fig we saw earlier is another type of epiphyte.”
Jett and Doug work together to collect what they need videowise.
And I follow Molly to the beach at the end of the boardwalk, the dense rainforest shifting to bright verdant vines covered in purple flowers.
One more shift, and it’s soft white sand leading to deep blue sea, the waves crashing against the shore.
Water laps against my ankles as I wade through the tide, pausing to examine seashells and small bits of fossilized coral.
The air smells of salt and seaweed, and I find my thoughts flickering to Jett with each new discovery.
One piece of coral is heart-shaped, and I slip it into my palm—a small treasure for him.
He stands at the edge of the forest line, pointing his camera at me. I wave, a soft flush warming my cheeks. The camera shifts away from his face to reveal him fully, and my heart stutters.
He beckons me, and I extend my palm, revealing the shard of coral. Bashful, I whisper, “I found this. It made me think of you.”
The smile he offers me—one of surprise and wonder—well, I could spend the rest of my life as a witness to it.
He plucks the gift, examining it. I’m stripped bare, like if he searched enough, he could uncover a trove of emotions I’m trying to hide.
“I love it,” he finally says, slipping it into his pocket. “Another treasure for me to keep.”
His smile morphs into a cocky smirk, and I grow flustered, something I think he enjoys far too much.
“I want those back,” I grumble. “They were a loan.”
He dips his head to my ear, a poof of warm air sending a wave of tingles down my body. “You can convince me to give them back later.”
The statement is pure suggestion, and I lose all function of my tongue.
With the quirk of his brow, I melt further, unused to being so unraveled around someone.
Desire blooms in my belly, and I do what every other woman performing a weird fake-dating dance with her boss would do: I run back into the forest, far away from the charming man.