Found in Us (Lost 2)

"I prefer couch tomato. Rhymes with potato, but sounds a lot sexier."

"If you say so," Parker says between guffaws, extracting one small blanket from the backpack, which makes me realize...

"That blanket is only big enough for two.”

"Exactly."

"So what if Dani, Helen, or Tara wanted to come too?"

"You're observant," Parker says. "I knew they wouldn't come. It's you I wanted to bring here."

"Why did you ask them, then?"

"So you'd feel bad for me when neither of them wanted to come." He grins. "I had a hunch that the odds of convincing you to come on a hike were somewhere below zero otherwise."

"Ah, so throwing in a bit of guilt. Clever." He interlaces his fingers with mine. Not for the first time, I have the strong feeling that Parker is a man who's used to getting what he wants, no matter what.

We walk away from the waterfall, toward an even stretch of land where Parker assures me we’ll be comfortable. The terrain is rocky where we are now, but it looks softer in the distance.

Still heated from the climb, I take off my jacket and sweater, remaining in my white cotton shirt. I do my best to be careful where I step. Just when I'm about to congratulate myself that I didn’t lose my balance, my left foot gets stuck between two rocks. In an attempt to wiggle it free, I do exactly that: lose my balance and fall straight into the mud. Cursing, I get up. Parker helps me, sounding half-concerned, half-amused when he asks, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, just made a mess of my T-shirt." I pull at the hem, so I can assess the damage better. "Well, if you ever had a fantasy of mud wrestling, I'm on my way to fulfilling half that fantasy."

Parker's eyes widen and then laughter bubbles out of his chest.

"I'd jump around, trying to imitate someone wrestling," I say, "but I might just break my neck."

"I liked this about you since the first time I met you," he says when we reach the place he’d indicated before.

"What? My ability to trip over anything?"

"No, your ability to turn everything into something positive." He spreads the blanket on the patch of flat rocks.

"I don't do that."

Parker sits on the blanket and beckons me to sit next to him. I climb in his lap instead.

"Yes, you do. I remember someone made good use of the cast on her broken leg by painting the flag of England and Prince Harry's portrait on it."

"Well, that was because I was bored. But I did think it was an excellent opportunity to show everyone just how much I wanted to move here," I admit. "And showcase my spectacular painting skills."

Parker considers my words. "The flag looked like a flag, all right. But Harry looked like he belonged in a Star Trek movie."

I gasp, feigning to be offended. "Now I know how Picasso felt when he was shunned. Future generations will know better.”

"Come on," he says with a smile, "put your jacket on or you'll get sick."

"Ah, not impressed by my impersonation of a wrestling chick, I see," I say, but put the jacket on because I already feel cold. "So, tell me, what's so special about this place? My legs are sore." I turn around, facing the waterfall.

Instead of answering, he nuzzles my neck, flattening his chest against my back. My body responds at once to his proximity, my skin flaring up under his lips. I lean my head on his shoulder, giving him free access to devour me with his lips. This feels pretty damn special all in itself.

"I have to admit I'm a bit sore myself," Parker says after a while. "Haven't done this hike in ages."

"You used to come here often?"

"When I was a kid, even a teenager, I visited Helen a lot. I discovered this place when I was about eight."

"And you managed to blackmail someone to come with you every time? Impressive."