“You’ve got this, Princess,” he says with an amused twinkle in his eyes. “You can do more than you think you can.”
I think I can stop drinking water right this minute and ensure I don’t have to dig a whole to pee in later. I pout, hearing a chuckle, but by the time my gaze swings back to Jack, all traces of his laugh are gone and he’s standing, offering me a hand. One of these days I’ll make him laugh, and it’ll be one of my most hard-earned achievements.
“You ready to get going?” He asks.
“Is piggybacking an option?”
“Not unless you’re greatly injured.”
“Do emotional wounds count?”
“Come on, Princess.” Jack stands, turning and holding out a hand to pull me up. “You have a canyon to conquer.”
Then his mouth erupts into the most beautiful grin I’ve ever seen, his perfect teeth on full display. The shock unhinges my jaw. He needs a sign around his neck warning unsuspecting women of the power of his smile. He offers me his hand again, which I robotically accept.
Once I’m upright and harnessed to good ‘ol Marigold, I turn my paper bag upside down. The last snack, a cute little box of raisins, drops onto my palm, followed by a roughly torn piece of paper. Jack has just buckled his backpack, turning to witness the yellow scrap flutter to the ground. The rustle of it feels unnaturally loud, like the cliffs around us are holding their breath. His gaze narrows, both our gazes bouncing between one another and the offending note on the ground.
“Didyouhave one of those with your lunch?” I pull my face into a wince.
“I did not,” Jack replies, controlled rage in his voice.
With slow movements, I bend, grunting as Marigold’s weight nearly topples me over again. She’s looking more and more like a tortured kid’s toy with her stitched-up side and scuffs. I’m sure she stumbled into all this the same way I did—very unintentionally. Just a couple of gals with dreams of remaining stylish.
A sharp exhale escapes as I unfold the paper, my eyes silently reading each word.
This is your last chance before someone gets hurt.
Leave the bag behind the restroom.
“Well, crap.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“You really can’t wait ten minutes?”
“Jack, I’vealreadywaited ten minutes. I’ve waitedfiveten minutes. If I don’t get to use the restroom soon, we’re gonna have a whole new set of problems.”
“You could just pee behind a bush, you know.”
“I’m not ready for that stage of this relationship. Now, can I go?” I gesture toward the rest area on the hill beside us at Cottonwood Campground, the restroom sign the current equivalent of angels singing in my ears. I stopped gulping water an hour ago. How am I so desperate to pee right now?
He glances down at his phone, then turns a scowl to the building. “Okay, but stay in there. Lock the door behind you.”
“Yes, sir. Go do your thing. I’ll be fine.”
“Wait!” He rushes forward, and I’m dancing on my toes as he hands me the knife I took from his bag earlier. “I’d wait for you, but my guy at the dig only has a signal for another few minutes, and I need to check in with him.”
“Wonderful, see you in a few minutes. I’ll find you,” I say quickly.
He growls, making me smile as I walk backwards towardthe restroom. “Kidding! I’ll wait inside the boring restroom till I hear your secret knock.” His pursed lips are the last thing I see before I push Marigold against the door, sliding in. Turns out there is no lock on this door.
“We won’t tell Jack about this.” I nod before dropping Marigold to the floor.
The smell in the restroom isn’t as bad as I expected, with mostly a wet earth odor wafting about. I shove Marigold against the door as a means of protection. At least that way I’ll hear her skidding across the floor if someone else enters.
I hum thePsychtheme song, peeling my sweaty shirt away from my body and fanning myself with the fabric a few times as I’m doing my business. There’s no way I can keep testing the limits of my bladder like this. And even though I’d planned to avoid peeing behind a bush, I don’t think the canyon will mind if it comes to that, seeing as we’re doing our best to honor its history and protect a stupidly priced artifact. Rather, it’s me who has to get over the indignity of peeing out in the open.
With no running water and no way to wash my hands, I pull out my trusty travel hand sanitizer.
