“Exactly.”
She held up the jar of greenish-colored goop. “Okay, my sexy swamp boy, roll onto your side and show me your back. It’s goop time.”
“Swampman, gorgeous.” He shifted, turning partially away as directed. “Why is this beginning to feel like a visit to a proctologist?”
Her laughter rang out again, inciting another round of jungle uproar.
“Gatita!”Juan stage-whispered above the commotion. “Keep it down. Some of us are trying to get our beauty rest.”
“It’s Parker’s fault,” she told her father.
“Sure,” Quint said, aiming a mock glare at her. “Blame the new guy.”
“You’re not new,” she said, unscrewing the jar lid. “Or temporary.”
“Damned right I’m not temporary, woman.”
Her “temporary” remark was an echo from some of their previous disagreements. Her lack of trust due to his traveling had caused her to build some walls between them in the past, requiring time and patience on his part to knock each one down. At least he’d made some headway on that part of their relationship. Now if he could just figure out a way to convince her to trust him enough to admit her part in cancelling their vacation and explain why she lied.
She stuffed the jar in the crook of her arm. “Stop making me laugh, Prince Charming, or we’re going to get kicked out of this joint.”
Quint held up his right hand. “I solemnly swear to be grim and excessively dour while you give me a quick rubdown.”
He heard her unzip his tent, glancing back to watch her scoop some goop from the jar.
“I’ll spread this on your back, and then I’ll zip you closed with the jar inside and you can finish the rest on your own. Remember, try not to touch your eyes or mouth afterward. You have hand sanitizer wipes in your backpack, right?”
“Yeah, but this is nothing at all like what you promised over by the fire. When we get back to Cancun, I’m going to sue you for false advertisement.”
“Do that and I’ll hang those flower pictures you think are too girly back on our bedroom walls.” Her fingers felt cool. And slimy. Not the least bit sexy.
“You fight dirty, woman.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Who gooped you up?”
“I did. I’m pretty flexible, you know.” She spoke that last part just loud enough for his ears only.
“Yeah, I know.” He closed his eyes, picturing her the last time he’d enjoyed her flexibility as she rubbed the greasy gel-like substance up his spine. Damn. He forced that image from his mind for the time being, and returned to the task at hand. “So, was the alli-guano the only thing KuTu had to tell you just now?”
“Aguada,” she corrected.
“Close enough.” Her hand moved to his shoulder, warm and slick with grease.
“No. He also wanted to let me know that they found a raised trail in the trees a little ways east of us.”
“You mean asacbe?”
These raised Maya roads left over from long, long ago crisscrossed the jungle, but were hard to see from the air. Hell, they were hard to see from the ground, too, thanks to the plants camouflaging the forest floor.
“Maybe.” She didn’t sound happy about it, which was odd. Usually any signs of the ancient people who civilized this jungle longago made her voice pitch higher with excitement.
“What’s wrong?”
She sighed. “Nothing.”
“Don’t shut me out, Angélica.” At least not on this.
“I’m not. It’s just that this site seems even rougher than I thought it would be.”
“What did you expect? A yellow brick road along with the flying monkeys in the trees?”
