“Who do we have here? A new recruit?” Lance asked, looking past Ford and eyeing Corrie curiously.
Shit. Ford hadn’t really thought this through. The last thing he needed was for Lance to report back to the investor that they were stuck and that they’d sent for reinforcements. Especially when those reinforcements happened to have been the investor’s first choice for this expedition.
“Uh, Lance, I want to introduce you to Dr. Socorro Mejía, our old college buddy.”
Corrie’s brow quirked up as both she and Ethan shot suspicious looks over at Ford.
“She’s here, uh, for research,” Ford said, ignoring their glances. “Dr. Mejía, this is Lance. He works for the investor.”
Her head raised an inch, as if understanding the awkwardness behind the introduction. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, shaking his hand.
“Likewise. How nice that the three of you have maintained your friendship after college.”
“Oh yes. Ford, Ethan, and I were the best of friends in grad school. We had so much fun together, didn’t we, Ford?” she asked, playfully punching him in the arm with a little too much oomph.
“Mm-hmm,” he murmured, fighting the urge to massage the sting in his bicep.
“Will you be staying long?” Lance asked.
“Not sure. We haven’t really talked about it. This was somewhat of a surprise trip,” Corrie responded.
What was she up to?
“A surprise trip to Mexico? You archaeologists sure do live fascinating lives.”
“Totally. I mean, it was super easy for me to drop everything to come down here, and I just had to see what Ford and Ethan were up to. Plus, I missed them so much,” she said, laying it on thick. Too thick.
Fortunately, not being familiar with Corrie’s sense of . . . humor, Lance didn’t seem to catch on.
“Well, I’m taking a few pictures before dinner,” he said, holding up the camera that always accompanied him, “but hopefully we’ll get a chance to talk more later.”
They waited a few moments, ensuring Lance was far enough away, before Corrie turned to Ford. “?‘Old college buddies,’ eh?”
“Look, it’s complicated.”
Corrie burst out with a laugh. “Are you talking about the dig or is that our relationship status?”
Ford tensed. That was one way to put it. But hearing her refer to anything they had as a relationship—whether good or bad—sent a funny feeling roaring through his stomach.
“Come on,” he said, choosing to ignore the bait.
They walked over to the camp, stopping to say hello to various people along the way as they meandered through the trees. Sundays were off days, so most of the crew were relatively clean and showered. At least Corrie wouldn’t be bombarded with the typical aromas of dirt, sweat, and BO that usually lingered in camp. Most of the crew were men, and with only two other women in camp—Sunny, Ford’s sweet but annoyingly perky intern, and Agnes, the sixty-two-year-old chef—the camp often felt more like a fraternity than a top-secret archaeological dig. Agnes chastised the men on a daily basis for their disgusting habits. Sunny, on the other hand, didn’t complain about anything. Not the smells, or the muddy treks to the dig site, or having to share a tent with Agnes—purely their choice, not that he could blame them. Heck, Ford thanked his lucky stars that he had his own tent every single night.
And, as if right on cue, Sunny came bounding out of her tent like an excited ocelot and rushed straight over to meet the new arrival. Corrie froze alongside Ford at the sight of her and recoiled seconds before being assailed by the ball of pure energy that was Sunshine O’Donnell.
“Oh my God, you must be Dr. Mejía! I’ve heard so much about you and I’ve read all your papers,” Sunny said, fervently shaking Corrie’s hand.
Ford snickered to himself at how uncomfortable Corrie looked. He’d never taken Corrie as a “girl’s girl,” or the type to be a fan of bubbly personalities like Sunny’s. Corrie Mejía was far too serious for that sort of poppycock. No, she was driven and focused, and while Corrie had moments of friendliness—hell, she and Ethan had acted like they were practically besties back at the airport—she didn’t seem like the type who had hordes of friends.
She also wasn’t a woman who could successfully hide her true emotions, something Ford knew from firsthand experience.
As Sunny rambled on about one of Corrie’s most recent papers published in Archaeology magazine without taking a single breath—or allowing Corrie to even learn her name—the crease on Corrie’s forehead grew, and she tilted her head. Er . . . this might not end well. A pit started to form in Ford’s stomach. Perhaps he and Ethan should have given her—or, frankly, both of them—a warning. Corrie, about Sunny’s, well, sunny disposition. And Sunny, about Corrie’s . . . lack thereof.
He probably should have held off on their introduction until after Corrie agreed to stay.
Ford waited for it. Waited for Corrie’s inevitable explosion when she had enough nonsense for the day. She opened her mouth, and he readied himself so he could jump in to save Sunny from Corrie. And . . .
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name,” Corrie said, politely cutting Sunny off and smiling.
What the . . . ? Ford glanced at Corrie out of the corner of his eye, scanning her profile. Who is this person and what did she do with Corrie Mejía?
Sunny let go of Corrie’s hand, then pushed her auburn hair behind her ears as she bowed her head with embarrassment. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I’m Dr. Matthews’s research assistant, Sunshine O’Donnell, but everybody calls me Sunny. Sorry, I get excited sometimes, and when I get excited, I ramble. And when I heard that you were coming, I couldn’t believe it because you’re my idol—no offense, Dr. Matthews,” she said, turning to Ford. “And it’s like my brain thinks I need to tell you everything, because what if I don’t get another chance like this, and oh my God, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
Corrie laughed. Laughed as if she was charmed by Sunny. The old Corrie would have had little tolerance for someone babbling on like Sunny during a lecture. But this person? Ford barely recognized her. He had to admit, Corrie had a great laugh. The sound of it relieved the tension in his body. And it was nice to see an actual smile on that gorgeous face of hers.
“Well, I’ve never had a fan. I’m surprised you even know who I am,” Corrie said with a playfulness to her voice.
“OMG, you’re joking, right? You’re only, like, the most badass archaeologist of modern times. No offense, Dr. Matthews.”
Never mind about that tension. Ford changed his stance as he felt a twang in his neck. No offense? Hearing it for the second time, he started to think maybe he should be offended.
“I mean, you chased that group of thieves in Belize. Stole back that jade necklace from those crooks in Panama City. And then there was that time you outran the jaguar in the Amazon—”