by Wendy Owens
The boy releases my hand, distracted by a nearby friend who emerges from his home. Losing my footing, I stumble to the ground and laugh. The girl wraps her arms around my neck, squeezing me with a gentle hug. I smile at her, and she grins back.
She shifts my head and proceeds to run her fingers through my hair. I can feel her twisting strands along the crown of my head. Assuming it can’t be any worse than what it probably looks like after sleeping in the back of a truck, I don’t protest.
The land around us is mostly flat. Directly in the small village, the ground has been worn into dirt paths, while surrounding us in every direction are images of grass covered countryside and sand dunes with a smattering of oversized trees on the horizon. Along the border of the settlement are numerous grass hut-like structures, several with a fire pit in front of them. To the left is a larger area with large logs for sitting, and a small area in the center piled high with half-burnt logs and ash. A child, not much older than three or four is playing in the ash with a stick. There’s peacefulness to this existence that I can’t help getting lost in.
I’ve tried to keep my thoughts here and now in the present, but no matter how long I manage to, Ben eventually keeps landing squarely in my thoughts. It’s not that I’m missing him, more that I wish I could figure out what went wrong. Being in love shouldn’t just stop. If I understood what happened between us, why I wasn’t happy anymore, maybe I could figure … I bite my lip. I could what? Fix things? I don’t feel an urgent need to fix things with him. That’s part of the problem.
“Good morning,” Jumanda’s voice breaks through my thoughts.
I look up at the man as he takes a seat next to me in the dirt, the jewelry girl still busy twisting my hair.
“Good morning,” I offer in return.
“He always sleeps late,” Jumanda laughs, tilting his head in the direction of the SUV, aka hotel room on wheels.
I nod, refusing to follow the direction of his gaze.
“He’s such good man, isn’t he?” Jumanda states as if it were fact.
I feel the girl let go of the twists, and I watch as she takes off running in the direction of where a group of her friends has gathered. They’re screaming and laughing, the sight of which forces a smile on my face. When I turn my head, my tangled hair falls in my face. I quickly scoop it back with a hand and filter through the knots with my fingertips.
“If you say so,” I say at last.
“You do not like Aiden?” His question is so direct it startles me.
“What?” I gasp. “I didn’t say that,” I quickly defend.
“Oh good, because he likes you too.” I struggle to process Jumanda’s words, certain there must be some sort of language barrier between us.
“Excuse me?” I ask, stiffening my back and turning in his direction.
“Oh, yes,” he confirms. “He tells me you are so eager to learn and you, oh, what’s the word—”
I wait, my mouth gaping open, desperate to know exactly what word best describes what Aiden has to say about me.
“Yes, determined,” he adds at last.
“Determined,” I repeat.
He nods. “Yes, determined to work hard.”
“I’m not sure how he would know anything about me,” I grumble, not fully intending Jumanda to hear me, even though he does. “He seems too busy making assumptions about who I am than actually getting to know me.”
Jumanda ignores my snarky comment. “I doubt most of these people would be here today if it weren’t for him.”
No matter how much I tell myself I don’t want to know what he’s talking about, I really do. My gaze shifts back to the children playing as they gather small sticks, dropping them off at random huts. “How so?” I try my best to ask casually.
“Most of the people you see here were in a government resettlement camp. Some people call them death camps.”
“That’s terrible,” I say softly.
“The conditions are despicable.” The contempt in his voice makes me shiver. “The areas—they’re too small to support them. They’re exposed to too many new things. Then they faced many problems—alcoholism, prostitution, diseases.”
“I don’t understand, what did Aiden do?” The question pops from my lips a little too eagerly, and Jumanda grins in response.
“When ruled Bushmen were to be given land back, government still found way to keep them trapped on reservations. They were breaking their own law, but who would stop them? Lawyers come and try to help, but nobody listened.”
I exhale, a tightness surrounding my heart.
“Aiden, he came here with his cameras, and he showed the world what was happening to Bushman. He shined light so bright, government couldn’t hide what they do anymore.” Jumanda spoke with such admiration of Aiden it was hard not to feel moved. “Now Bushmen get to live here, on game reserve.”
“Wow, I had no idea.” I breathe the words.
“See—” Jumanda chimes in a mischievous tone.
I shake my head, in confusion. “See what?”
“You do like Aiden.” A grin spreads across his face, and he’s obviously pleased with himself.
“I guess I do like him,” I relent with a grin, patting his arm.
“Who we talking about?” Aiden’s voice sounds from above me. My stomach sinks, his sudden appearance stealing my breath for a moment. I want to die.
Forcing my eyes upward in his direction I watch as he rubs his fingers across his stubble covered chin vigorously, before shifting an open palm up to the locks on top of his head as he shakes the last of the sleep off of himself. His muscles shift and tighten in his arms as he moves. I catch a glimpse of his flat and hard tummy when he lifts his hand up. Quit looking! He’s your boss, I remind myself.
I feel all soft now when I look at him. Damn Jumanda and his hero tale! The last thing I want is to get gooey feelings about this man. I’ve got enough on my plate to deal with.
I lift my chin, gritting my teeth, fighting the urge to explain that what I meant was that I liked him in a plutonic sense. I mean, in the way you find your purely plutonic friend extremely sexy. In case he didn’t hear who we were discussing was, in fact himself, I manage to convince myself to stay silent.
“Morning, boss.” Jumanda scoots over, creating a space between us and motions for Aiden to take a seat. I contort my face in Jumanda’s direction, intending to let him know I’ll be keeping my eye on him and his matchmaking ideas.
Suppressing the butterflies that are now fluttering wildly in my stomach, I clear my throat and attempt to change the subject. “Good morning, sleep well?”
Aiden sits in the now empty spot, stretching his legs out in front of him. He crosses his ankles and leans back on his elbows. I pull the inside of my cheek in between my teeth and begin to nibble, anything to distract myself from the way he’s just casually showing off how sexy he is. I mean seriously, you don’t see me dropping my jacket sleeve from my body to reveal just how rocking my shoulders are. I watch him intently for a moment, before forcing my gaze back toward the village common area.
He shrugs. “I had trouble falling asleep.” He glances up at me. “Unlike you.”
I could inform him that, in fact, I was awake when he came to lie next to me in the SUV, and I only pretended to be asleep. But I know there’s no way I’m ever telling him that, so instead, I dismiss his teasing. “I guess it’s easy to fall asleep when you put in a hard day’s work. Something apparently you would know nothing about.”
He laughs. “Ouch.”
“So who were you talking about when I came over?” Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.
“I gotta go, boss.” Jumanda strategically excuses himself, standing. “Let me know when you’re ready to go on the hunt.”
I wait for Jumanda to leave, and quickly ask Aiden, “Hunt?” Hoping this will distract him from his unanswered question.
He nods. “Yeah, not literal hunt. The black rhino’s protected, but the Bushmen love the hunt, so
that’s what Jumanda calls it. We’ll go out with a couple of the young men to help us with tracking.”
“Is it safe?” Yesterday I was informed that camp is safe, but that outside camp was not so much and was told to stay close.
“If you’re asking if you’re going to get attacked by a lion or something, that’s rare.”
“Like how rare?” I gasp, my body responding with exaggerated motions.
“Just don’t go yanking on any tails and you’ll be fine,” he says, crossing his arms behind his head and lying in a flat position on his back. His shirt lifts as he raises his arms, again revealing a small glimpse of his washboard abs.
I mean come on, does this guy exercise 24/7 or is he just one of those annoying people that have been blessed with this body. I can’t even look at a carb without an extra inch being added to my curves. And based on my curves, I like my carbs.
“Who was it again you were saying you liked?” he asks for the third time. His eyes are closed, and I have trouble judging if he actually knows who I was talking about and he’s baiting me, or if he for some reason has a genuine interest.
Thinking fast, I answer, “My ex.”
He opens one eye, squinting in confusion. “You like your ex?”
“Of course, I like my ex. You can’t just turn those feelings off,” I insist, deciding I am sticking to my story at all cost.
“I suppose.”
“You disagree?”
“Just not sure I would say I feel anything for my ex. I’m more indifferent toward her.”
I laugh.
“What?” he demands, his eyes are now fully open and fixed on me.
“Well, I’m not sure you can honestly compare two people who were in love with someone you were sleeping with named Kitten,” I fling at him.
“You know, there was more to her than her name,” he defends.
“Oh yeah? Well set me straight, by all means,” I encourage him.
“She was incredible in bed,” he grins and closes his eyes again.
My face flushes hot as I catch myself glancing at his stomach again. Images of what a night filled with sinful screams with him must be like instantly flood my thoughts. I feel a bead of sweat collect between my breasts, and heaving a deep breath I force the scene unfolding in my mind from my thoughts.
“Some relationships are about more than sex,” I inform him boldly.
“So you were in love?” he asks, even toned.
I don’t hesitate in my response. “Of course, I was.”
“Was? So you’re not in love any longer?” he presses.
“I still love him,” I shrug. “I just wouldn’t say I’m in love.”
“So what did he do wrong?” Aiden asks.
“What makes you think he did something wrong?” I frown, sad I don’t have an answer because Ben didn’t do anything specific wrong.
“Was he the one texting you before we got on the flight?” When Aiden asks the question, I realize just how unprofessional that must have been.
“I’m sorry about that.”
Aiden sits up, dusting the dirt from his hands and back. “Don’t be. You’re my assistant, you’re entitled to a life.”
I shake my head. “He’s having a hard time letting go.” Why am I telling him all of these things?
“Exactly my point,” Aiden chimes.
I furrow my brow in confusion.
He continues, “The texting. He’s begging for you to come back to him, right?”
“Yeah, I mean, I suppose,” I reply with hesitation.
“And you say you were in love with him?” Aiden continues his thought.
“And?” My patience is growing thin.
“If he did nothing wrong, and you were in love, then he had to have done something to merit him pleading for you to come back,” Aiden explains his logic.
“You’re making it far too complicated,” I assure him. “He’s a good man. I’m just not in love with him anymore, though I’m not sure how any of this is your business.”
“You’re the one that decided to tell me about him. I’m just telling you how it is.”
“And how is it?” I quip.
“You were never in love with him.”
“Excuse me?” I gasp, shock rippling through me at the nerve of his statement.
He shrugs, his eyes fixed on mine. “I’m sorry, but that’s bull, you don’t just fall out of love with someone unless they betray that love.”
My heart twists in pain from his words. Doubt creeps in from the back my mind, fearing he’s right. “And I suppose you’re an expert because you’ve been in love so many times?”
For the first time, Aiden looks away from me focusing on the horizon. “No.” His voice is softer now. “I’ve never been in love. It’s not really for me.”
“Not for you?” I repeat.
He sucks in a sharp breath, and I can sense his relaxed state has given way to frustration. “Trust me, you don’t want me to expound on that.”
“I don’t make it a habit of asking questions I don’t want answers to,” I inform him firmly. My cheeks burn as I become increasingly irritated by the fact that he felt he could just go and question the entire validity of the relationship between Ben and me.
I can’t help but stare at him in disbelief. Who does he think he is? Staring causes me to note how the bridge of his nose slopes perfectly, to the rounded, slightly rose-tinted tip. And how his bottom lip is firm, and while I would easily call it full, it is still masculine. Focus, Kenzie!
He narrows his eyes, lifting his knees and resting his cupped hands on them. “It’s been my experience that the people who are looked at to be lesser in this world are often the most beautiful, like the Bushmen for example. The people in our world, they all have agendas. They’re fueled by lust or greed, eager to judge, and slow to forgive, but for some insane reason, these are the people society tells us we should strive to mate with, to stake our claim on. The problem I’ve found is that they aren’t worth the ink. So no, love simply isn’t for me.”
“Are you telling me you have never loved anyone?” I glare back at him, certain he’s hiding something.
He sighs, and I can tell he’s debating if he should reveal the truth or not. At last, he lifts his shirt to reveal the image just under his arm, on his rib cage. There’s a beautiful woman, eyes closed, a ribbon billowing behind her. She looks so peaceful. Scrolled above her is the word ‘Destiny’ and at her feet, ‘never forget.’
“It’s beautiful,” I offer. “You must have felt something pretty incredible for her.”
“It’s my mom,” his voice is low. I’m shattered and feel almost inconsiderate for ogling him moments before. I recall the story I’d read online about his mother and how she took her life after he was kidnapped as a small child.
How could I have known? The question shot through my mind.
“We better get packed. We have a long day of shooting ahead of us.” He changes the subject, hopping to his feet, not even a glance in my direction.
My heart is breaking. I wish more than anything I hadn’t let my anger and frustration lead me down this path. Aiden was right, I was quick to judge, my words obviously hitting too close to a tender memory. Maybe he was right about everything? What if I never was in love with Ben?
I shake my head. He can’t be right about that. I know what I felt.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kenzie
* * *
I close my eyes and run through my mental checklist one last time. This is my chance to prove not only to Aiden that he made the correct choice in hiring me, but also to prove to myself that I’m capable.
Coffee. You never know how much you need it until it’s not readily available. Hours have passed since my interaction with Aiden. Since he pretty much told me he thought the relationship I was being tormented over was average, and nothing to be upset about. He doesn’t even know me! My face flushes red from frustration again. Damn, I’d give anything for a cup of coffee rig
ht now.
I’ve become paranoid that Aiden is doing his best to avoid me since we last parted. If my suspicions are true, then he is doing a good job of it, because in a small area of only thirty physical bodies, he’s managed to not reveal a single hair on his head to me. At first, I was relieved, but now I am getting irritated. I mean hells bells, I’m behaving like a professional. I expect the same of him.
I circle to the back of the truck and slam the doors, confident after the thirteenth run through of the bags that we have everything we could possibly need for the shoot. My head swivels around, and I can’t withhold the cry that squeaks out. Drawing in a deep breath, trying to calm my now racing heart. I’m standing face to face with Aiden.
His expression shows he’s pleased that he has startled me. “Jumpy much?”
I clear my throat, refusing to acknowledge his achievement in scaring the daylights out of me. “Everything’s ready.”
I rub the back of my neck, my eyes shifting around to the entourage walking up behind Aiden. Jumanda smiles, nodding his head in my direction. Two men I haven’t met yet flank him. Their skin is dry and cracked and reminds me of leather. Both are adorned with beaded necklaces similar to the ones I helped make just yesterday. A minuscule piece of animal skin hangs at their waists, and a handmade bow is slung over the shoulder of one of the men while the other carries a spear. They both beam a smile in my direction. Jumanda introduces them and explains they’ll be our trackers.
Aiden wastes no time explaining what will happen. Once we move a few miles out from camp, we’ll park the SUV, and the rest will be on foot. Before I realize it, my face betrays my fear, my eyebrows lifting.
“Well, I suppose you can stay in the truck if you feel safer,” Aiden offers.
“Safer? Did I say I don’t feel safe?” I bark, infuriated he’s again questioning my commitment. First, to Ben, and now to my job.
His face falls in disappointment, then his eyes lock back on me. “I was just saying—”