On the road to Chichicastenango, Jace closed his eyes. He hadn’t slept much on the flight. How could he rest with Millie sleeping against him? Her soft, warm breath brushing his arm like a kiss? The intoxicating scent of her shampoo—an ambrosia—surrounding him?
He could smell her now.
Jace opened his eyes. No way could he sleep.
The crowded bus hit a rut on the road. Sitting on the aisle, she grabbed on to the seat in front of her. “I think my spleen and liver may have changed places.”
“Ouch,” he said, noting the pained expression on her face.
Zack and Ryan smiled. The camera crew might not be seeing the conflict they wanted, but they appeared happy with the shots and sound bites between being bounced around themselves.
Good thing they hadn’t ridden the chicken bus.
The tourist bus
