Own the Eights Gets Married - Krista Sandor Page 0,41

made her weak in the knees—or perhaps that was all the cookie dough and deer jerky. But still, the idea of not sleeping in a tent sounded like heaven on earth.

“And don’t think you can cheat. Not all the scat on the list is found on our land. If you mark off each piece of shit, you are officially shit out of luck and lose any claim to the honeymoon yurt,” Buck cautioned.

Georgie swallowed hard as Syd handed each couple a clipboard.

“Form a circle. We don’t want you on top of one another. There’s plenty of land and plenty of scat. We’ll send you off in different directions, but make sure you’ve got your compass so you can track where you are on the map.”

Georgie waved Jordan down. “Should we tell them we’ve never done anything like this before?”

With a stiff shake of his head, her fiancé nixed the idea. “No, we’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed, because, well, they were in the middle of freaking nowhere backcountry, and it seemed like a good idea to let someone know the only compass they ever used was the one located in Jordan’s BMW’s dashboard.

“Relax, Georgie,” Jordan muttered. “They’re sending us out in one direction. We’ll turn around after we identify the shit and come back. How hard can that be?”

“Team high-intensity scat training, are you ready?” Buck called.

She and Jordan looked up to find all eyes on them.

Jordan puffed up like a peacock. “Yeah, we’re ready.”

“Turn around and on my count, head south, southwest,” Syd said, checking her map.

“Are we running?” Georgie whispered.

“Yes, this is no meandering walk,” Jordan replied as that muscle ticked in his jaw again. It might as well be his asshattery indicator.

“Three, two, one, go!” Syd cried.

Jordan shot into the forest like…whatever the hell sprints in the woods. A cougar? A mountain lion? Were those the same animal? Gah! Her trifecta shrugged as she glanced past a cluster of aspens, already starting their fall transition from green to gold. It was quite lovely, and she would have remarked on it if her fiancé hadn’t bolted into the evergreens like a bat out of hell. She sucked in a breath and caught a glimpse of his gray hoodie as he scaled a large rock.

“Wait!” she cried.

Her backpack clunked from side to side as she held the clipboard and struggled to keep Jordan in sight.

“How are you going to find scat at that speed? And by the way, I’ve got the damn clipboard!” she yelled.

“I want to break from the group and get away from camp. I’m guessing the animals steer clear of it, so, keeping that in mind, the best scat is probably farther away,” he called from over his shoulder.

Dammit! That actually made sense.

Ignoring the sour churn of her belly and her burning sleep-deprived eyes, she mustered all the strength she had because she had more than an inkling she was going to need it.

“Hurry, Georgiana! Run!” Jordan called.

Georgie clutched the clipboard and willed her legs to move faster.

“I am running!” she answered.

For the better part of the last three hours, they’d scoured the backcountry with their eyes locked on the ground in search of animal poop.

She caught her breath and slowed down.

Okay, calling it a run might be pushing it.

“Georgie, come on! I think I see something over by that tree,” Jordan shouted.

Her fiancé’s fecal matter focus had been unrelenting.

They’d found what they’d hoped was squirrel scat, jackrabbit scat, and marmot scat. She didn’t even know what an actual marmot looked like, but she identified its damn poop. They had to find one more specimen of animal scat, and then they could return to camp.

She drew in a sharp breath and kicked it up into high gear, which was pretty much old lady walker speed by this point.

“I’m coming! Slow down!”

“We cannot slow down! You need to speed up!” he answered.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “This is me speeding up!”

She was tired and hungry. All those muscles that had remained tensed and twisted last night during the Jordan Marks snore-fest begged for a respite from this shit show.

This literal shit show.

What she needed was a hot bubble bath. She could picture it now. Warm water. Bubbles, tickling her skin as she propped her feet on the side of the tub and reread her well-loved copy of Pride and Prejudice. She could sink into the scented water and listen as Jordan cooked dinner or played with Mr. Tuesday.

How she missed those days.

Those days?

OMG! Those days were