a softer touch.
Soft like her skin.
He was still holding her hand. He let go as if it were a stick of dynamite about to blow. Touching her again seemed like a really bad idea. Almost as bad as agreeing to the adventure. He motioned to the wooden crates. “Let’s see what’s inside.”
Cade pried open the lid and removed the contents: toilet paper, cloth napkins, one blanket, a ball of string, a canvas cloth, a plastic tarp, two towels and washcloths, eating and serving utensils, two pots, two mugs, two plates, a plastic bag filled with matches, two rain ponchos, two flashlights and a first aid kit. “No food.”
“It’ll be in the other box.” Sterling’s voice lacked her earlier confidence.
He opened the second crate and pulled out the contents: a battery-operated radio and microphone, sunscreen, lip balm, a container of rice, another of coffee, a bottle of multivitamins, salt and pepper, two buckets and two canteens. He found a handwritten letter at the bottom of the crate.
To my lucky participants,
Welcome to the Isle of Davenport. I purchased it specifically for your adventure so enjoy all this beautiful island has to offer. The crates contain basic supplies to get you started. The rest is up to you to find, make or win during one of my games. You will face a series of tests and challenges. Whoever wins gets a prize. You’ll find a water tank beyond the trees. Enclosed is a map to a fresh water source. I recommend boiling the water before drinking it. I can’t think of anything else to write except it does rain so get a shelter built ASAP. Have fun, my friends, and see you tomorrow.
All my best,
H.
Egomaniac. Cade clenched his jaw. “Henry needs to be sent on his own adventure. The bast—uh, bashful guy.”
Sterling looked dumbfounded. “He didn’t leave us any food except some rice. How much rice can one person eat? White rice isn’t food. It doesn’t even make a good side dish.”
“Don’t forget, we brought our own food.” Cade didn’t want her to worry. Or cry. He opened his pack and pulled out an orange, a bag of crackers, a jar of peanut butter, two cans of tomatoes and three cans of beans. “At least we won’t be eating tree bark or other nasty stuff.”
He expected a smile; he didn’t get one. Uh-oh. The chef had interrupted them so Cade hadn’t seen what Sterling had taken from the galley. “You packed food, right?”
“I—I did.” She clutched her backpack. “But I was thinking more along the lines of snacks and…”
“And what? Show me what you brought.” She looked like a rabbit snared in a trap and guilt surged through him. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he was feeling the pressure. Cade took a deep breath. Like it or not, he was going to have to make sure they both got through the next two weeks. “Whatever you packed will be fine.”
She pulled a small jar of stuffed olives from a side pocket of her backpack. Olives wouldn’t have been his first choice, but it could have been a lot worse.
He smiled. “Good job.”
Next she removed a clear bottle from the main compartment.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Gin.” Pride filled her eyes. “We can make martinis.”
Martinis? Cade’s blood pressure soared off the charts. It was all he could do not to lose it. He wasn’t sure how, but he managed to keep smiling. Even as he calculated the number of cans of beans she could have packed in the same space. “I would have never thought of that.”
“Did you think about dessert?” She pulled three Go-diva chocolate bars from the backpack’s front pocket. “I can’t live without chocolate.”
Cade blew out a puff of air. They had all they needed for hangovers and cavities. Not that it mattered since they were going to starve to death. At least they would go in style—drunk and on a sugar high.
She removed a small can of mandarin oranges, four granola bars and a pear. “The pear’s not ripe, but I thought that would be better since it would last longer.”
Okay, she was redeeming herself for the martinis. “Great.”
“And my pièce de résistance…” She removed a small can from the other side pocket.
Excitement rushed through him. “Tuna.”
“No, it’s caviar. Not Beluga, but it will do.”
Cade would have preferred Starkist. A can of Spam would have been more useful than caviar. Oh, well… “Let’s put all the food in here.”
She frowned. “You’re disappointed in me.”
Cade grabbed one of the empty crates. “I’m not.”
“You are.” She fiddled with one of the zippers on her pack. “I can see it in your face.”
“You aren’t seeing anything on my face.”
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