Raiders of the Lost Heart(69)
Corrie sighed. “Last night. I stayed the night with him. When you found us this morning, I was getting ready to leave. That’s how I know. He never left the tent. I was with him the entire night and would have noticed if he’d left.”
Now Ethan was the one with wide eyes.
“Are you going to stand there staring at me without saying a word? Go ahead. Let’s have it,” she said, palms face up and waving as if to say, Bring on the teasing comments.
“I . . . I have no words. Just, wow. How long has this been going on?”
She sighed again. “Oh, I don’t know, Ethan. I mean, there’s always been something lurking between us, I suppose. But as far as this dig is concerned, a couple of days.”
“I can’t say that I’m surprised. I always knew he had a thing for you. I mean, it was obvious that your beef with each other was fueled by your sexual tension. I’ve never seen two people who needed to fuck more than you.” He smiled, causing Corrie to laugh and easing her nerves. “And I have to admit, when I asked you to talk to him, I sort of hoped you two would finally bury that beef. I love you both, and I know you two never wanted to see it, but you’re pretty perfect for each other.”
Corrie smiled. Yeah, she could see it now, too.
“I hope you can understand why we didn’t say anything about it earlier.”
“Of course, Corrie. Your sex life is no one’s business but your own.”
“I know, but people talk. And I don’t need anything to give actual cause to the reputation that I have.”
“Still with that magazine spread?”
She rolled her eyes. “Always. Seriously, you’d think I’d posed for Playboy.”
“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but for any archaeologist or aspiring archaeologist over the age of fourteen, it was better than Playboy.” He tried to make light of the situation. “Seriously, a living, breathing, gorgeous woman interested in digging up bones and playing in the dirt? You’re young Indiana Jones’s wet dream. The Latina Elsa from The Last Crusade. Or, better yet, a real-life Lara Croft.”
“Did you just compare me to a Nazi?”
“You know what I mean. Come on, Corrie. I’m trying to lighten the mood.”
“I know you are. But look . . . I don’t want anyone to know about this, okay? It’s bad enough that Ford got picked for this job instead of me in the first place. The last thing I need is for word to get out that we slept together, giving people another reason not to take me seriously.”
“Your secret’s safe with me. Now, come on. Let’s go look for some bones. Unless you’ve had your fill of bone hunting for the day,” he said with a sly look in his eye.
Corrie laughed and rolled her eyes. “I’ve always got time for a bone hunt or two.”
Chapter
Sixteen
When were they going to find some goddamned bones on this dig? Or that tecpatl? Something? Anything aside from boring household items that could have belonged to anyone? Maybe on any other dig, Ford would have been ecstatic upon finding a wooden bowl, but not now. Not when the stakes were this high.
Everything Corrie had predicted was right. An adobe structure hidden in a bowl-shaped landscape. The cave. The river. But after seven days straight of digging at the new site without a single day off, they still hadn’t hit the jackpot. And the cave hadn’t resulted in jack shit.
Unless the thief had gotten to it first.
Ford had been on edge ever since they’d discovered the storage hut had been tampered with. He didn’t want to believe that someone on their team could have been the culprit—they’d been a family these last three months. Even Vautour’s guys. He enjoyed talking with Lance as much as he enjoyed his time with Ethan. And you didn’t steal from family.
Well, maybe some people did. But so far, no one from their team had vanished, and no one seemed off, so even if the thief was someone among their ranks, they probably hadn’t found anything, either. Otherwise, what were they still doing there?
Ford’s mind raced in bed that morning, running through each member of their team and analyzing the likelihood that they were the bad guys, all while stroking his fingertips over Corrie’s bare shoulder next to him. Corrie was the only thing making this dig bearable. Even on the roughest of days, the ones when they found nothing and news of his mother only worsened, once he found himself beside Corrie at night, all his worries faded to the background. Some days he imagined this was their home. That they could stay here forever.
But that was an impossibility. Someday, and likely soon, they’d all have to go back to their normal lives.
What would that mean for Ford and Corrie? Would that be the end of their tryst? Would they go their separate ways, living on opposite ends of the country?
One thing was certain—he had to come clean to her about the circumstances that had brought them here if he had any hope that there would be something more between them. But the moment never seemed right. And if ever the moment felt right, Corrie would do something sweet and caring that would make him question whether he wanted to mess up such a perfect moment by revealing how big an asshole he really was.
Perhaps things would be better if they simply said their goodbyes at the end of all this and she never knew the truth. Corrie didn’t deserve to be hurt—again. She deserved so much more than she’d been given credit for. Who knew that behind all that sass and beauty was the smartest, kindest, most badass chick ever?