THIRTY-THREE
Why was she here? Oh, that's right. To stop him from falling in a hole again. Jean wanted to laugh. She was a far more dangerous distraction than any cushion plant, because if he fell into her hole, he'd never get out. He wouldn't even want to try.
Outside, where it was cold and she'd have to keep her clothes on, he'd be able to concentrate better. In here, in such close quarters, it was a lot harder.
While she heated up dinner at the tiny gas burner, he unrolled his sleeping bag on the bunk across from hers. The shelves above both beds that might have doubled as bunks if there'd been more people on the island now held the bulk of their supplies. Including the pack of wet wipes he'd found her stroking down her body when he'd walked in earlier...
He had to stop. This was
