“Well . . .” she started, seizing Ford’s attention, “there’s no shame in admitting that, no matter who you are. If my mother were still alive, I’d want to see her, too.” A hint of sadness twinkled in her eye.
“Though I don’t think Dr. Matthews said that to impress anyone,” she continued. “He loves his mom and would do anything for her. At least he stands by something. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I still need to log some items from today’s dig before I forget.”
She stood from the table, leaving a gut punch in Ford’s stomach. At least he stands by something. Ouch. The others likely had no clue what was going on. Not even Sunny or Ethan. But her choice of words had been no accident. Despite the glances and the unspoken permission to join them for dinner, Corrie Mejía was not over what had happened the other day.
And chances were, she’d never be.
Chapter
Twenty-One
Was it Corrie or was this the hottest, muggiest, longest night of this entire goddamn expedition?
She reached over to the table beside her bed to check the time—again—only one twenty-two a.m.? How was that even possible? She flipped over, kicking the extra blanket and sheet to the foot of the bed. That was all it was—the heat. Yes, the heat kept her up. It had nothing to do with Ford. Or that fact that his mother might not be able to get the treatment she needed to live. Or the fact that even after he admitted all the things he’d done, she still had feelings for him. Strong feelings. Warm feelings. Sexy hand down my shorts I can’t stop thinking about him feelings.
Okay, so her insomnia had everything to do with Ford.
But how was she supposed to sleep when he was less than a hundred feet away? Especially when her insides twisted whenever she thought about what she’d said at dinner. At least he stands by something. She’d regretted the words the instant she’d walked away. Why had she said that? Why had she stooped to such a level?
She needed a walk. Tire out her legs, and then she could finally fall asleep. Because after three nights of barely sleeping, she desperately needed it.
Corrie didn’t bother putting on more than the tank top and shorts combo she’d been （trying to） sleep in. Sure, the tank top barely contained her breasts, and her ass cheeks were a thread away from peeking out the bottom of her shorts, but no one else would be out and about. Not at this hour, at least.
The hum of the jungle filled the air, but the tents otherwise remained silent. As suspected, the camp was vacant. And judging by the silence, Corrie seemed to be the only person suffering from another sleepless night. Though . . . a soft glow came from Ford’s tent. A light, perhaps?
She wandered closer to his quarters, straining her ears to hear, but nothing. Not even the rustling of sheets or the soft purrs of his sleepy whimpers she’d come to know all too well. The tent canvas was extremely thick, though, so the chances she’d hear anything were slim anyway. After all, no one seemed to have heard them having sex, and Corrie wasn’t exactly what most would refer to as quiet, even though she had practiced lots of restraint these last few weeks.
Shh. Someone might hear, Ford would whisper in her ear. She could hear his deep timbre, the warmth of his breath and moisture from his lips sending a shockwave to her core as he rocked into her body.
A smile slowly crept over her, before she tamped it down. No. Stop thinking about him.
Moving away from his tent, she wandered through the camp. But her gaze never strayed far from the glow. Wondering if he was awake. Wondering if he had come up with a plan for his mom. Wondering if he was thinking about her.
Fuck it.
Corrie meandered back toward Ford’s tent, creeping up the porch and pressing her ear against the door, which creaked at her touch. Listening for any indication that he was awake.
“Is someone there?” Ford quietly called out.
That was indication enough.
Corrie pulled the door open and entered his tent. He was lying in bed with one arm lifted above his head, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs, sweat glistening against his skin.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, crossing her arms to cover her now hard nipples. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“Neither can I,” he responded, sitting up and rubbing his hands over his face.
“Is it me or did the jungle decide to turn it up a few thousand degrees tonight?” she asked with a smile.
A half chuckle escaped his lips. She missed that laugh. She missed everything about him. Well . . . almost everything.
“It’s hot as balls,” he said.
Balls. Why couldn’t he have used a different word? Corrie couldn’t help but glance at his crotch when he said it. She chastised herself for being unable to get her mind out of the gutter. Despite the missiles firing in all sorts of directions inside her upon seeing him in all his half-naked glory, her sexual attraction to him accounted for only a small fraction of her thoughts.
Okay, a large fraction. But those weren’t the real reasons she couldn’t get him out of her head.
“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. About standing up for your mom,” she said.
“Corrie, please,” he said, hanging his head. “You have nothing to be apologizing for. You’re only going to make me feel worse if you think you ever need to apologize to me. Not after what I’ve done.”
“I know, but . . . I know how much your mom means to you. It was a low blow.”
“I deserve worse.”
“Not when it comes to her. You don’t deserve to worry about her.”
His face softened as he looked up at her, as if finally accepting her words.
“Have you figured out what you’re going to do yet?” she asked. “About the payment, I mean.”
He shook his head. “I called the bank today to see if I could get a line of credit, but they said it would take a few weeks for the paperwork.”
“Could you get an advance on the . . .” Her voice cracked. “On the money from this dig?”
“Based on my last conversation with the investor, I’m not in a position to be asking for favors. I haven’t even told him about the knife yet.”
She cocked her head. “Why not? Isn’t that what he wanted?”
“Yes, but that’s all he wanted.”
Oh. Corrie didn’t need Ford to spell it out to her—the minute he told the investor about the tecpatl, they’d be pulled out. And even though it meant Ford would have the money he needed for his mom’s treatments, it would also mean Corrie couldn’t finish what she’d set out to do.
She couldn’t let his mom suffer because of whatever this was that was happening between them.
“Where’s the sat phone?” she asked.
“It’s on the desk. Why?”
Corrie walked over to the desk, grabbed the phone, then brought it over to Ford, having to ignore the rise in temperature at being so close to him. “Call the treatment center.”
He looked at the phone like it was a foreign object. “What? Why? I already told you, I don’t have the money.”
“Call them,” she demanded, thrusting the phone in front of him.
He stared at her for a moment, then did what she said. But the moment the phone rang on the other end, she took it from him.