Own the Eights Gets Married - Krista Sandor Page 0,40

he glared at the stainless-steel containers.

“I don’t think it’s a real competition—” she began, but Jordan didn’t let her finish.

“Did you not hear what the crown prince of rodent royalty said?” he shot back.

“I did, but I’m assuming it’s all in good fun,” she answered.

“Yeah, good fun, like pelting me with straws anytime I walked past the school cafeteria,” he bit out.

She rested her hand on his back, feeling his muscles tense beneath her touch. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll ignore them. There are a bunch more couples here. I’m sure we’ll barely have time to interact with Brice and Camille.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jordan answered with a pinched expression.

She pulled a strip of deer jerky from her bag and handed it to him. “Eat this. The Supreme Emperor of Asshattery requires sustenance.”

He sighed, taking the hunk of meat as his shoulders slumped. “Sorry, Georgie. Seeing Camille brought back all the shit I thought I’d left behind. Are you okay? I’m sure you didn’t expect to run into Brice Casey.”

“Oh yeah! I’m totally good with bumping into the guy who was such a jerk it compelled me to start a revolution.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow playfully.

“Okay, to start a blog. It’s almost the same thing,” she replied, holding his gaze, which, thankfully, had softened.

The clang of the cowbell cut through the air, calling them to camp, and Jordan offered her his hand. She took it and savored the warmth of his touch. He brushed his thumb across the center of her palm, and she relaxed a fraction as they wove their way through the foliage to the center of camp to find the group already assembled.

Syd clapped her hands. “All right, wilderness couples! It’s time for a scat race.”

Georgie met Jordan’s gaze, and his eyes lit up.

“Is scat a type of training like HIIT training?” he asked, radiating excitement.

Syd stared back blankly. “I’m not familiar with hit training.”

Jordan lifted his chin, going into trainer mode. “HIIT, H, I, I, T stands for high-intensity interval training. It’s a form of cardiovascular exercise where you alternate between bouts of high-intensity training and recovery periods. It’s great for conditioning and improving metabolism.”

“Is there any shit involved with your hit?” Buck asked with a quirk to his lips.

“Shit?” Jordan echoed.

Buck nodded. “Yeah, S, C, A, T, scat, is just a fancy way of saying shit.”

Jordan took a step back, and his mouth fell open. “We’re doing a race to see who can shit first?”

The entire group broke out into laughter, and Jordan’s expression hardened.

“No, this is not a competition to see which boot camper can produce a bowel movement first, and of course, if you need to have one, don’t forget your trowel,” Syd advised as the couples nodded.

Buck took a step forward. “Teamwork is a cornerstone of any marriage. Part of being a committed couple is working together and understanding the lay of the land. Life isn’t always a stroll through the park. The task at hand will have you trekking through the backcountry and identifying the different animal scat or feces. You know what feces are, right, Jordan?”

Another round of snickering percolated through the wilderness campers.

Georgie touched Jordan’s arm and glanced up as a muscle ticked in his jaw.

“It’s okay. I didn’t know what it was either,” she said under her breath. But her fiancé didn’t meet her gaze.

“Not now, Georgiana,” he mumbled, his posture going rigid.

“Jordan, it’s not a big deal,” she tried, keeping her voice low.

“Georgiana, can we listen to the directions so we can win this bullshit shit race,” he bit back.

She dropped her hand from his arm. What the hell was up with this gruff Georgiana pay attention perfection attitude?

Then it hit her.

Perfection.

Shit!

She stole another look at her triggered fiancé, who, thanks to this wilderness poop race and the arrival of his high school blast from his unpleasant past, Camille Pruitt, had morphed into ten-mode. It had been ages since she’d seen this asshat and the true reigning Emperor of Asshattery. Sure, they joked about it now, but there was no denying the Class-A douche he’d been when they’d first met.

Syd gestured for their attention. “Every couple gets a clipboard. On it, you’ll find a list of animals and a picture of their scat. Your job is to find scat from four of the ten animals listed. The first couple to complete this task gets to spend the night in the honeymoon yurt,” Syd added.

“The honeymoon yurt,” Georgie repeated as the thought of a real bed and a working toilet