Page 47 of Sinners Reunion

“In my defense, I haven’t had to say it in all these years. You’re the only ninny I know who comes up with such rot.”

“God, I hate it when you go full British.”

I laugh. “I seem to recall you begging for a little slap and tickle the first time you heard me speak, and I was far more British then than I am now.” I give her cheek a gentle pat. “We should head to the campfire so that we may learn our fate.”

“I already got the results. Eve and Gary won by a landslide. And don’t think you’re getting out of it that easily.”

Blast.

I never should have agreed to this.

“Josie, I really don’t enjoy spicy things, and I enjoy putting another man’s penis in my mouth far less. Can’t we save ourselves the anguish and just reminisce about the time we played? I lost. I remember.”

“Oh, you remember that?” she says with a heaping helping of side-eye.

I sigh. “I remember a lot more than I let on.”

She nods and starts toward the campers further down the line. “I know.”

My stomach sinks as I follow her and realize she’s heading for Chef’s bus. She’s really serious about these pepper-stuffed penises.

“He probably isn’t back yet,” I say, hoping she’s merely coming here to clear my name in her mind once and for all. He wasn’t in when we arrived back at camp; he’s taken Grim and Rose into town to shop for supplies.

Josie keeps walking, and I feel like a buck in rut with every sway of her hips. I’d follow this doe into a bear’s den. I’m already torturing myself by tending to her needs while neglecting my own. Might as well die, I suppose.

I just can’t help hoping she’ll finally let me live.

Who can blame me for wanting it as badly as I do? The sex with Josie was always incredible because it was so unpredictable. From one moment to the next, she wanted it a different way.

She didn’t—and doesn’t—have a sexual addiction. She has a sexual obsession, a curiosity, an urge, and we sought ways to quell the burning need. So many exciting, dangerous, jaw-dropping, back-bending . . .

Sometimes it was a roll in the hay, but not always. I didn’t want her to only reach for that outlet, especially once I was no longer there. The thought of her with another man still makes my skin crawl. So for those other times, we killed. We cooked dinner. We played stupid games on the beach.

And in the process of teaching her all these healthy coping mechanisms, we went and made a dog’s dinner of everything by falling in love.

I can’t tell her any of this, however. I can’t say that I don’t want to play the pepper game because I don’t want to go down this path again when it can’t end any differently.

Josie reaches the door and raises her fist to knock. After three sharp raps of her knuckles, she steps back. I stand by her side, and we wait. Seconds pass, but no one moves inside. Does the redheaded she-devil take this as a sign to walk away?

Of course not.

“We are not breaking into Chef’s camper.” I try to step in front of her before she can grip the handle, but the little weasel is too quick. She darts under my arm and opens the door.

“It’s not breaking in if I don’t have to break anything to get in.” She sticks out her tongue and rushes inside.

“That’s not how it works.” I groan and follow her, right into the bear’s den. Because if Chef Maurice catches us in here, we’ll both be mauled.

She asks where Chef keeps everything, and I, under great duress, point to each thing she requires. The sooner I play this game, the sooner we can get out of here. She’s disappointed when she doesn’t find many pepper options, and a bit of hope rises in my heart and lifts my spirits.

But does she let it go?

Of course not.

She says she has another idea, and it’s pointless to argue, so I don’t. When Josie sets her mind to something, she very rarely lets go of it until she’s achieved her goal.

I sit back and watch her waltz about the kitchen area, pulling from cubbies and spiriting away items from the fridge. It’s adorable, the way she tries to keep each secret tucked away from my sight.

She’s doing a damn fine job of it too. There’s no telling what I’ll bite into now.