Page 10 of Rest In Pieces
“That’s the spirit.”
We walk for a few miles, taking in the scenery and stunning views before stopping so Nevaeh can take a break.
I hand her a cereal bar and a bottle of water. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she pants, taking the water. “But unless you’re going to carry me, we might want to head back. If we go much farther, I might die.” She unscrews the cap and takes a drink.
“Dramatic much. Anyway, that’s fine. I really just wanted to see if there were any other campsites around here. I wanted to see how private this place is.”
“You say private. I say isolated.”
“Potayto, potahto.”
“It is pretty out here; I’ll give you that. And peaceful.”
“I know, right? I think when I retire, I’ll park the RV somewhere just like this.”
“I think you have a few years before you need to consider retiring.”
“You’d be surprised. This job is tough on the body. I’ll be lucky if I get another twenty years in.”
“Huh. I never really thought about that before. I guess I've always been so focused on your safety, I didn't think about the toll your job takes on your body. I mean, I’m always terrified when you work. It freaks me out that you have no fear. You throw yourself into everything. And out of everything. And off of anything.”
I laugh at her scowl.
“Don’t laugh at me. I’ve seen the cuts and bruises, the dislocations, sprains, and breaks you end up with. You’re human, not a superhero,” she says, taking another drink before handing me back the bottle. “It must take longer and longer to recover as you get older.”
I shrug. “I guess so, but I haven’t really had the chance to ask anyone. I don’t know them well enough to ask and didn’t want to be rude. I’ve only met two stunt people still doing it in their fifties: Jack Evans, the coordinator for the movie I’m about to shoot, and Dean Masters, the guy I worked with on the set ofTheHarder They Fall. He looked like he could bench press me one-handed without breaking a sweat.”
Nevaeh’s eyes glaze over as she gets lost in thought. I wait patiently until she snaps out of it and watch as she grabs her phone and opens the Notes app.
“The joys of having a writer for a friend.” I sigh. “Let me guess, you just pictured a whole sweaty scene where the hero is bench-pressing the love interest naked.”
She mumbles something that doesn’t sound like English and continues to type out her thoughts. Finally, when she’s done, she looks up at me with a sheepish grin.
“Sorry.”
I wave her off. “Meh, I drag you out on spontaneous hikes; you zone out and write sex scenes. We are who we are; I’d say we’re even, though it still cracks me up that you’re a bestselling romance author with?—”
“Her V-card. Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“I was going to say with a pastor for a father, but yeah, that too. How do you even know what to write if you’ve never experienced it?” I ask as I shove her empty bottle back into my bag.
“I watch porn. Still glad I’m moving in?”
“Heck yeah. And just saying, I have a top-of-the-line TV. You’ll thank me later. Though cocks in 4k ultra-HD might put you off them for life.”
She laughs, her cheeks turning pink at my use of the word “cock,” even though she used the same word seventy-one times in her last book. Seventy-one. I know. I counted.
I hold out my hand to her. “Come on, let’s go get dinner.”
“Now you’re speaking my language.”
4
GENESIS
Iknock back my drink and signal the bartender for another. I’m way past my limit, but I don’t give a fuck, and the bartenders here know better than to try to stop me.