She shrugged. “Or we’re on the table for the sex part, and we save the popcorn for after.”
“Hmm. When does the butter come into play?”
“Whenever you want it to.”
“Oh, I’m liking this idea more and more.” He rubbed his hands together. “Is there a fan on us?”
“Two. Plus an air conditioner in the room.”
He sucked air between his teeth. “Now you’re really getting my corn popping.”
She laughed loud enough to set off the howler monkeys hanging out nearby.
“That’s more like it,” he said, catching her hand.
“What do you mean?”
“You haven’t been laughing enough lately.”
She smiled. “I didn’t used to laugh much at all until you came around.”
“We’ve already established how funny looking I am.”
She held his gaze as well as his hand, her heart pounding out love notes for him. “Honestly, Quint,” she said, her voice quivering slightly from a sudden case of nerves. She gulped and plowed forth anyway. “I’m beginning to lose track of where I end and where you begin.”
He stroked the inside of her palm with his thumb. “Is that a bad thing?”
She considered his question for a few crackles and snaps and then answered from the depths of her soul. “I think it might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“I don’t ‘think,’ sweetheart. I know it.” He reached out and tweaked her chin. “I’d drag you back to our tent to show you why, but your dad is in there sleeping and your mom would probably be watching.”
She cringed. “When we get home, we’ll circle back to this moment and do our best to please the maize god in private.”
“No stingray spines, though.”
“Fine. I’ll let you do the poking this time.”
He leaned back, grimacing. “What do you mean ‘this time’?”
Instead of answering, she laughed evilly.
“You’re warped, woman.”
“Yeah, but you like me that way, Prince Charming.” She glanced behind him toward the tents. “So, where are the others?”
“Daisy, Fernando, and Esteban retired for the night, same as your dad. Teodoro and María did, too.”
“Did you see Dr. Fernel at all?”
He shook his head. “Pedro and Bronko went off to the communications tent to smoke a couple of cigars and talk about flying. Did you know Bronko has been working on getting his pilot license?”
“No. Good for him—unless he’s going to fly drugs or guns for one of the cartels he used to work for.” A loud crack came from the fire, followed by a burst of sparks. “What about Raul and KuTu?”
“Raul crashed right after supper. He’s on watch patrol in the middle of the night, after KuTu finishes his shift.”
“Which means KuTu is probably prowling around in the dark somewhere.”
“Yeah.” Quint stared into the trees on the other side of the fire. “I’m not sure if I should be relaxed or tense about KuTu these days,” he said quietly.
