Desire in the Everglades

by Hoff, Stacy

  Trying to distract herself, she focused on her new Timberland boots, wiggling her toes around in them. The no-nonsense hiking boots were tough enough for this place. Unfortunately, they were also tough on her skin. Wearing them this long without having broken them in hadn’t been a good idea, either. At this rate, she wouldn’t be surprised if she got blisters. At least the boots were waterproof and had very thick soles. Nothing was going to penetrate through to her feet. At least she had that going for her. Who knew what lurked in the swampy water?

  Soon they’d be taking a boat ride on this very same swamp water. If she were lucky, the boat would go fast enough to generate a breeze, finally cooling her down. If she were very lucky, she’d be on a boat without him. A girl could hope.

  She looked at the saw grass plains of the Everglades spread out before her. Up close, the landscape was a rich kaleidoscope of green, gold, and brown. But if she looked out to the horizon line, a single earth tone blanketed everything. In its own, raw way, this place was beautiful. It was hard to believe that yesterday she’d been looking at skyscrapers. That the weather had been cool enough to require a light jacket. That she had been working at her desk. Now here she was, in the wild outdoors with a memory problem. A week ago, if someone had told her she’d be in this situation, she would have called the person crazy.

  The waist-high marshland grass stood straight and tall, no wind to make them bend or sway. Even the swamp water with its gazillion canals didn’t generate a breeze. The water in the air, however, made it worse—it was hard to breathe. She attempted a deep breath anyway, smelling the acrid bitterness of swamp air. Waiting out here was terrible.

  Where was Colin anyway? Not that she wanted to see him. She snuck a furtive glance around her. The corner of her eye caught pockets of hot shimmering air. Hazy currents popped up all around, silently crinkling and undulating as if airborne pieces of cellophane. She looked up to see a bright blue sky with fluffy white clouds, looking like one of Rene Magritte’s “Empire of Light” paintings. The pleasant looking, inviting sky was absolutely incongruous with the reality of being baked in a ninety-degree oven. That was assuming, of course, that the weatherman wasn’t wrong. She was positive his prediction fell short. Adding ten degrees would be a sure bet.

  “Hey, Stephanie, hot enough for you?” the location team’s newest hire shouted, pulling her out of her thoughts.

  “Hilarious, Devon. I’ve heard that one about eight times this morning already.”

  “Wanna cool down with me?” asked a smooth voice behind her.

  Amused, Colin felt a smile creep over his face. She did not look happy. It’d be a pretty safe bet she didn’t want to talk about last night. Fine. He had told her not to try to keep up with him. Five shots of Grey Goose within thirty minutes was way too much for a woman’s stature, no matter how tall she was. At around 1:00 a.m., after the crew had gone off to bed, it had been just him and her at the hotel’s tiny outdoor bar. By that time, she was up to shot number three.

  Did she have a competitive streak? Trying to prove she was just as good as him, in some weird way? It’s not even like he enjoyed drinking that much. He just rose to her challenge because she bet him he couldn’t down five in a row. And then she made her own challenge, claiming she could drink as much as him. Thinking about it made him want to laugh out loud. When her mind was made up, it was scary. He was damned thankful for his military background—learning to come out victorious no matter how strong the forces of the opposition.

  But he realized last night Stephanie had a softer side, too. Just before she passed out, her demeanor was an enticing combination of gentleness and seduction. Her fingertips had lightly rubbed his knees. Up his thighs. For a delightful minute, her hands traced the outlines of his lips, glossing over them with the lightness of a first kiss.

  He had ignored the burn building in him. Ignored the heat that flowed all the way to his head. Ignored the tightness in his pants. She was enticing when she wasn’t even trying to seduce him. When she was actually trying, the effect was as powerful as any explosive he’d come across. Equally deadly, too. She had blown him away. Her half-closed lids, dreamy expression and ample breasts, ready to burst out of the low cut shirt she had on, were almost too much to resist.

  But he did. Another thanks to his military background—unparalleled discipline. Sure, he wanted her all right. And it would have been too easy to take advantage of the situation. But that didn’t mean he was going to.

  He had carried her back to her room, put his arms around her back and tiny waist to do it. He had half cradled her, half slung her over his shoulder. Though slender, she was tall, and dead drunk. The weight was surprisingly heavy.

  He didn’t even pause to touch her delectable bottom when he fished the room key out of her back pocket. It was fortunate he already knew her room number and no longer felt guilty about making a mental note of it when they first checked in. Though this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he had earlier hoped to take her there.

  He didn’t run his hands down the side of her body when he slid her down onto the queen-sized bed. Though discharged from the military, he was still a man of honor. He pretended he didn’t see her intimate garments strewn about the room. The hot colored bras. The too-small sheer nightgown. The panties. Not being able to stop himself, he bent down to take a closer look at one of them before he left. Good god, it was a red lace thong. At this point, he’d have to say he was enduring a level of punishment even the Military Police wouldn’t dish out.

  But even if he couldn’t act on his desire, a man could remember. And dream. He certainly remembered cradling her lithe body, holding her protectively in his arms until he returned her safely to her room.

  From Stephanie’s reaction at seeing him this morning, he could safely assume that, despite the alcoholic haze of last night, she remembered, too. And she was doing her best to forget.

  Good luck with that. Because he wasn’t letting her.

  “Where’ve you been all this time?” Stephanie demanded. She cringed at the tone of her voice. Was she mad at his tardiness or herself for creating an awkward situation?

  “Hi to you, too,” he said, eyes crinkled in amusement. “I’m sorry you had to wait in this heat, I was arranging our rides.” Colin pointed to a distant waterway with three airboats roaring forward. The loud buzzing sound of the engines became deafening as the boats approached. If they could be called boats. They were more like sheet-metal rafts with gigantic caged propellers welded on. Stephanie looked at them wide eyed. The engine-clad death-traps were potentially even more dangerous than facing him.

  “We’re going on those?” she asked dubiously.

  “Uh-huh. No other way to get around here.”

  “But the boats’ decks are not much higher than water level.”

  “Right you are. Gators can jump right in if they want to. We’ll try to avoid upsetting them, staying far away from known nesting sites. Mommies get very protective of their babies. Makes ’em want to attack the boats.”

  “Great,” Stephanie muttered weakly, following everyone to the water.

  “Don’t be nervous.” Colin winked playfully. “You’ll be on my airboat. I know you’re dying to spend more time with me.”

  Damn. He just had to bring it up. She looked away, ignoring him. He could talk about last night all he wanted. Let him go conversation-fishing. She wasn’t going to take his bait. Especially with other ears around.

  Colin laughed and climbed onto one of the boats. The crew followed, and reluctantly she did, too. Colin pointed the location crew to their two boats and signaled for her to get on his. Frowning, but afraid refusing him would make a scene, she took the hand he offered her and climbed aboard.

  In a few minutes the airboats took off. Their fast speed was unexpected. Her chignon threatened to completely unravel, some of her loose long hair almo
st getting tangled in the boat’s giant propeller.

  “Better use the gift I got you,” Colin said, projecting his voice loudly over the engine.

  “A gift? For me?”

  “A ‘thank you gift’ for coming out here.” He reached into his pocket and took out a small white plastic pouch.

  Her curiosity getting the best of her, she reached out and took it, ripping the bag open.

  “Elastic bands for ponytails?” she asked, amused. If he was trying to get her to feel better about last night, it was working.

  “I figured by the time you realized your fancy hair-do wouldn’t hold up here, you’d be out of luck with no CVS to run to.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “A very nice gesture. A useful one, too.” She unclipped what was left of the chignon, clipped the barrette onto the belt loop of her khaki shorts, and struggled against the wind to put her hair into a ponytail. When it still flew dangerously near the propeller, she quickly made a braid to shorten the length and tied the end with another black elastic. It was a relief to no longer feel the sting of hair whipping into her eyes. And a bigger relief to sit in silence.

  Chapter 6

  The boats roared on endlessly, the sound deafening. Eventually, blissfully, they stopped at an island. The crew headed out, the airboat captains staying back. “We’ll be back here in four hours,” Colin told them. To the location team he called out, “Let’s move forward.”

  Stephanie let the crew take the lead, her steps falling behind on the grassy, muddy ground. She swatted at a nearby mosquito, grateful for the bug-spray she’d applied earlier. Putting a hand on her neck, she felt the sweat that completely drenched her. Disgusting. And not likely to improve anytime soon. The sun still pounded down, and the humidity grew worse.

  Passively, she listened to Colin’s factoid ramblings. He was explaining to the group the different location sites to be considered. Wanting to be alone with her thoughts, she tried to block him out. How could he look at home in a place so inhospitable? Yet he walked gracefully, as if he were on a city sidewalk. She, on the other hand, was a dirty, sweaty, panting mess ready to flop into the mud from heat exhaustion. If Sasquatch were here, he’d drool with desire. Colin, however, probably thought she was not only a drunken slut, but a plane crash victim, too. Perfect.

  “We’re here,” Colin finally called out. “There’s a stream up ahead you can use to cool off. When you’re done, I’ll show you around the place. I’ll be waiting right here.”

  She walked straight to the stream with the crew, crouched down, cupped her hands, and splashed water over her face. After a brief moment, they seemed refreshed and ready to go. Great.

  Devon raised an eyebrow at her. “Hope you’re more ready than you look,” he commented. “I’m waiting for your tongue to loll out of your mouth.”

  “Hilarious. If you guys are so fit and fiddle, you all go on without me,” she muttered, much to their amusement. “I’m about ready to die. When all three of you agree on the exact spot to shoot, then I’ll come out to look at it. In the meantime, I’m not moving from here.”

  Glorious moments later she was left alone. She sat on a log and grabbed a small notepad from her satchel to write down her thoughts. How the place looked. How the place smelled. How it would be to stay here with a lover—one as powerful as the predators. It’d all be for her book, she thought, if she ever took the risk of writing again. She made her notes, the pages curling from the humidity.

  The heat was oppressive. Invisible water droplets hung heavily in the air. Breathing was still laborious. Stephanie felt her eyes close. Reluctantly she put her notebook down and moved off the log to the ground. Nestling herself in a patch of dried leaves, she leaned back against the log and fell asleep.

  It felt like only a second later she woke from the sound of vegetation being trampled. Sounds of laughter and conversation drifted in as well. Startled, she straightened up, one hand flying up to check her hair, one hand lifting to rub her eyes. How would it look if the producer passed out? Not good. She plucked a twig from her braid and threw it on the ground.

  Poising herself back on the fallen log, she waited for them, letting her eyes adjust to the surprisingly dim light. Colin had explained yesterday back at the hotel they’d be taking helicopters into the Everglades, with a scheduled landing in the northern section, where the Cypress Swamp was. When they were done here, they’d take the airboats south into the marshlands and sawgrass prairies. Lastly, they’d head even more south, going to the mangroves.

  Well, she thought, here they were, Cypress Swamp. The cypresses had buttressed trunks, their roots jutting out of the water. Stephanie squinted at a ray of light streaming in through a crisscross tangle of branches and conifer leaves. The trees seemed to grow in a pattern with the tallest and thickest trunks in the center. As the peat-like soil thinned out at the edges, the cypresses grew smaller and thinner. Red maple and pop ash surrounded her, too. Of course, that’s what Colin said. A city slicker, the only tree she could easily identify was pine.

  The sounds of the location team’s arrival grew stronger, and she shoved her notebook quickly into her bag. “Stephanie, you missed a great hike,” Devon called out. Before she could answer, Devon’s shaggy self appeared, gray cargo pants hanging low off his waist, a New York Giants tee shirt completely drenched in sweat.

  “Sorry. It’s my loss,” she said sincerely.

  “It was your loss,” Colin said, his expression cold. “Perhaps later we can persuade you to accompany us.”

  Stephanie’s brows furrowed. He thinks I’m a prima donna. Or lazy. “I’m not exactly used to this, you know,” Stephanie shot back.

  “Maybe a party will invigorate you. Help get you better acclimated to your surroundings,” Tom, the senior location staffer, offered with an impish grin. “I packed marshmallows, and we certainly have enough sticks to skewer them around a campfire.”

  Leave it to Tom to lighten the mood, she thought gratefully.

  “But nobody packed beer,” James, the lead cameraman, countered.

  “My backpack also contains a large flask of good quality vodka,” Tom retorted.

  “Grey Goose?” James asked, his normal octave elevated by optimism.

  Devon, a glint in his eyes, chimed in, “I don’t care about the quality, or the brand. Still a party to me. Should we wait for the sun to go down before we start a campfire?”

  Colin shot out a definitive, “No.”

  The men looked at him, mouths agape. “Sorry, Colin,” Tom said dryly, “I didn’t know we’d be breaking any jungle rules by feasting on toasty sugar snacks. Did you want us to roast up a possum instead?”

  Colin laughed. “The airboats will be back soon, and you’ve got to be on them if you don’t want to spend the night. We can do the marshmallows now, if you want.”

  Devon let out a loud whoop of satisfaction.

  “You’re coming back on the airboats with us, Colin, right?” James asked.

  Colin picked up his backpack and reached in. “I’ll be staying here,” he explained. “I have a canoe tied nearby. In the morning I’m going to go on ahead to our next location spot. The airboat guys have the coordinates. They’ll take you and you’ll meet up with me there.”

  James exhaled hard, his shoulders dropping down a bit. From the newly relaxed look on Devon’s face, James obviously wasn’t the only one relieved at the thought of being back in a hotel room.

  The only one who still managed to be wound up was Tom. “But if we’re going to a different sight tomorrow, Stephanie will not have seen this location at all,” Tom objected. “Didn’t you want to see it, Stephanie?”

  Tense, Stephanie’s shoulders inched up toward her ears. “Yes, I did. I didn’t realize today was the only day for this location. Sorry I couldn’t keep up.” Her voice shook a little. Professional failure was not he
r thing. She’d had enough of that in her personal life. She should have pushed forward to join them, but it was impossible to breathe in this oppressive wet heat.

  “No problem, don’t worry about it,” Tom said kindly. Devon and James walked off into the trees together, presumably to get some sticks for the fire. A minute later, Tom lumbered after them.

  Stephanie hung back, tugging the zipper of her bag closed and trying to breathe deep. The air smelled sharp. The acrid smell of decaying leaves in rich mud permeated. Besides the swamp stench, the wet air was so heavy now it was impossible to fully take in. Her mind was fuzzy from the heat. Sighing, she unconsciously put her hand on her hair, brushing back the few flyaways escaping her braid. How was she going to do better holding up tomorrow?

  Colin walked over to her. “I think I can fix your problem,” he said softly.

  She blinked in confusion. How could he know what she was thinking? “Really? How?” she asked, eyes wide and eyebrows lifted.

  “You can stay here with me tonight.”

  Stephanie felt her body engulf in heat, but knew this time it wasn’t from the temperature. This sounded like too good of an idea. Or like not a good idea at all.

  “You’ll want something to inspire all that writing of yours. A night here in the Everglades ought to do it,” he said, his voice smooth.

  Stephanie didn’t know which trains of thought to hop onto first. She went for the easiest one. “How do you know about my writing?” Had she said anything about it before? She didn’t think so. She cocked her head to the side, waiting.