not good-looking troublemakers.
“What in the hell was that?” Quint said. “Angélica?”
She was stuck. He could undoubtedly see her lantern light leaking through the canvas.
“Hold on a moment,” she called out. She carefully set the vase down on the floor next to her desk.
“Are you okay in there?”
“Yeah, sure.” She tossed her mom’s notebook into the bottom drawer and kicked it closed. “I just need to …” she glanced around her living quarters. A pink bra dangled from the main support pole, several dirty T-shirts and pairs of underwear and socks littered the floor, and a bunch of books lay scattered next to her cot. “I just need to grab something.” Like a big rug so she could shove everything under it.
“I brought you some food.”
“You did?” That explained Rover’s squeal. And why he was currently trying to bite the flap zipper. Her father had probably put Quint up to this visit while he was busy keeping Jared out of her hair over in the mess tent.
“This may sound like an odd question,” Quint said, “but do you have a pig in there with you?”
She booted her pink bra and the rest of her dirty clothes and several books under her cot. After one last check to make sure none of her other unmentionables were scattered around for him to see, she nudged Rover out of the way and unzipped both flaps. “Hi.”
He held out a plate of food. “Good evening.”
“It’s Rover,” she said, taking the plate. “My jabalí .”
“It is?” His forehead wrinkled. “Your what?”
“My pet javelina.” She stepped aside, allowing him room to enter. “Please, come in.”
He’d barely made it inside the tent when Rover head-longed into his ankles, greeting his shins with grunts and snorts and nuzzles.
“Holy pork chops!” He laughed, kneeling down. “I didn’t realize javelinas were so cute as babies.”
Angélica zipped the mesh flap shut, sealing them inside. Together. Alone. She stood over him, breathing him in. He smelled clean, fresh from the shower. She was tempted to do something stupid. Her gaze traveled down over his broad shoulders and strong forearms, her fingers flexing. Make that something downright asinine.
Oh, stop it , she scolded her silly libido and then settled into her chair. Besides, after spending the afternoon crawling around in temples, she was coated with dirt and probably stunk like monkey butt.
She switched her focus to the fresh baked tortillas he’d brought and the pile of fruit. Her mouth watered. “Thank you for bringing me supper.” She pointed at Teodoro’s trademark bandage. “How’s your arm feeling?”
“Fine.” He scratched Rover behind the ears.
She tore a piece off one of the tortillas and held it out toward Quint. “Give him this and you’ll have a new best friend for life.”
He dangled it in front of Rover’s snout. The hungry javelina inhaled it in a single chomp.
Quint chuckled, patting Rover’s back. “You want some more, little guy?”
Rover danced around in a circle in response, something her father had taught him when offered treats.
“Have you been teaching him English?” Quint asked, his eyes warm and sparkly in the lantern light.
“No, Dad has. ‘Food’ is Rover’s native language.”
“That makes two of us.”
Angélica watched them play a few moments longer, then her stomach demanded a forkful of sustenance.
“So, what’s Rover’s story?” he asked.
She cut another bite, forcing herself to slow down and not inhale it like her javelina. “I found him a couple of weeks ago. He was caught in a trap in the forest about a quarter-mile from here.” She handed Quint another piece of tortilla.
“Hurt your leg, huh, buddy?” He fed Rover and then moved over to her cot, waiting for her nod of approval before lowering onto it.
Rover took a couple of steps toward her, sniffing the air, but then whirled in Quint’s direction. He hobbled over to him and nuzzled his outstretched hand.
Angélica froze
“What in the hell was that?” Quint said. “Angélica?”
She was stuck. He could undoubtedly see her lantern light leaking through the canvas.
“Hold on a moment,” she called out. She carefully set the vase down on the floor next to her desk.
“Are you okay in there?”
“Yeah, sure.” She tossed her mom’s notebook into the bottom drawer and kicked it closed. “I just need to …” she glanced around her living quarters. A pink bra dangled from the main support pole, several dirty T-shirts and pairs of underwear and socks littered the floor, and a bunch of books lay scattered next to her cot. “I just need to grab something.” Like a big rug so she could shove everything under it.
“I brought you some food.”
“You did?” That explained Rover’s squeal. And why he was currently trying to bite the flap zipper. Her father had probably put Quint up to this visit while he was busy keeping Jared out of her hair over in the mess tent.
“This may sound like an odd question,” Quint said, “but do you have a pig in there with you?”
She booted her pink bra and the rest of her dirty clothes and several books under her cot. After one last check to make sure none of her other unmentionables were scattered around for him to see, she nudged Rover out of the way and unzipped both flaps. “Hi.”
He held out a plate of food. “Good evening.”
“It’s Rover,” she said, taking the plate. “My jabalí .”
“It is?” His forehead wrinkled. “Your what?”
“My pet javelina.” She stepped aside, allowing him room to enter. “Please, come in.”
He’d barely made it inside the tent when Rover head-longed into his ankles, greeting his shins with grunts and snorts and nuzzles.
“Holy pork chops!” He laughed, kneeling down. “I didn’t realize javelinas were so cute as babies.”
Angélica zipped the mesh flap shut, sealing them inside. Together. Alone. She stood over him, breathing him in. He smelled clean, fresh from the shower. She was tempted to do something stupid. Her gaze traveled down over his broad shoulders and strong forearms, her fingers flexing. Make that something downright asinine.
Oh, stop it , she scolded her silly libido and then settled into her chair. Besides, after spending the afternoon crawling around in temples, she was coated with dirt and probably stunk like monkey butt.
She switched her focus to the fresh baked tortillas he’d brought and the pile of fruit. Her mouth watered. “Thank you for bringing me supper.” She pointed at Teodoro’s trademark bandage. “How’s your arm feeling?”
“Fine.” He scratched Rover behind the ears.
She tore a piece off one of the tortillas and held it out toward Quint. “Give him this and you’ll have a new best friend for life.”
He dangled it in front of Rover’s snout. The hungry javelina inhaled it in a single chomp.
Quint chuckled, patting Rover’s back. “You want some more, little guy?”
Rover danced around in a circle in response, something her father had taught him when offered treats.
“Have you been teaching him English?” Quint asked, his eyes warm and sparkly in the lantern light.
“No, Dad has. ‘Food’ is Rover’s native language.”
“That makes two of us.”
Angélica watched them play a few moments longer, then her stomach demanded a forkful of sustenance.
“So, what’s Rover’s story?” he asked.
She cut another bite, forcing herself to slow down and not inhale it like her javelina. “I found him a couple of weeks ago. He was caught in a trap in the forest about a quarter-mile from here.” She handed Quint another piece of tortilla.
“Hurt your leg, huh, buddy?” He fed Rover and then moved over to her cot, waiting for her nod of approval before lowering onto it.
Rover took a couple of steps toward her, sniffing the air, but then whirled in Quint’s direction. He hobbled over to him and nuzzled his outstretched hand.
Angélica froze
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