Page 8 of Uncharted

“What are you doing?” Calvin stops me on the bottom step.

“The smokers are going and then we need to talk about?—”

“Tomorrow is Sunday. Crew day off,” Calvin barks.

I furrow my brow and glare at him. It’s not Sunday, it’s...

“Ah, he’s still in there.” Dante feeds Pepper another bit of fish.

“You’re working too hard. We can take a day off.” Easton’s got his hands on his hips.

“We need to finish the sleeping room before the rainy season.”

“We will or we won’t, man. But you’re pushing yourself too hard. And by yourself, I mean all of us. You need to chill.” Easton drops to the wood stove and puts another log on.

“What are we going to do?” It comes out before I realize what I’m saying.

“Do or do not... actually that doesn’t work here. We can lie on the beach, and you can retell the plot of the entire Star Wars universe or Marvel if we want to take two days off,” Dante says.

I raise my eyebrows at Dante.

“Or we can go for a swim in the ocean and then at the waterfall,” Easton adds.

“We can hike up the mountain. I can show those of you who haven’t seen it what it’s like.” Calvin nods at me. “But we’re not working on the shelter, and we’re not making jerky or fishing. I’ll open the back end of the weir. We won’t even have to check it.” Calvin points at me. “No cooking. We have fruit and jerky. No one works.”

“I don’t know who the hell you are anymore, Calvin Green.” Dante laughs.

He smiles his lopsided grin. And it hits me. The fucking asshole is in love. I don’t say it. I can’t say it because I am too. Only I’m trying to show her how great things can be with making the best-most-homelike-home we could ever have. Show her that I’m a provider too. That she needs me as much as she needs the rest of them.Stay with me, she said. I nod at Calvin. “You can finish up the jerky tonight?”

“I’ve got it,” he says.

“I’ll help too.” Easton stands.

“I’m going to go to bed.”

“Good idea. The stars are coming out. It’s a good time to just lie there and breathe.”

I climb the ladder. Do nothing tomorrow. Haley will like it. It’s not my idea, but she’ll like it, anyway.

“You’re back.” Her voice is sleepy.

“Aye.”

“You’re not Scottish.” She lets out the softest of laughs.

“No, but everyone says Scots are sexy.”

“You’re sexy.” She lifts the edge of the blanket. “Can we snuggle?”

“Always.” She turns her back to me, and I spoon her.

“Do you really know the plots to all the Marvel movies?”

“Aye.”

She laughs.

“Did you hear everything?”

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