Her Dirty Archeologists by Mika Lane

8

FLEUR HOLMES

“How’d everybody sleep last night?”

Was he fucking kidding?

Was it okay to want to kill my boss, who had only ever been nice to me and deserved, in large part, credit for guiding me in earning my PhD?

I’d slept no more than two hours, and when I finally did snooze, all I dreamt about were scorpions. Of course. They were everywhere, crawling all over me, inside my sleeping bag, and into my pajamas. All over my face and in my hair.

Just when I was about to die from their poisonous stings, I sat straight up in bed—or should I say on my inflatable camp mattress—dripping with sweat, and struggling to catch my breath.

But I was alive. And it was morning. I’d made it through my first night in a scorpion-filled desert in the middle of fucking nowhere, where I’d be living for a month with no shower.

And there was not a single scorpion in sight, at least not inside my tent.

Only twenty-nine days to go. Give or take.

I slipped into what Soleil called my ‘archeology uniform,’ of khaki pants and a matching long-sleeve shirt. I’d read that bright colors attracted mosquitoes and flies, but from my experience so far, they were attracted to boring-ass beige clothes, too. Whomever sold me that bill of goods was full of shit.

I lightly sprayed my clothes with super-duper bug repellant, sold to me by the same jerk who claimed khakis kept away the bugs. If the guy was as ill-informed as I suspected, I was in for a world of hurt.

At least I’d gotten all the recommended vaccines—so if I got bitten raw, it wouldn’t kill me. Supposedly.

But I had to say, my mood improved considerably when I stepped outside my tent. I never knew desert mornings were so beautiful. The sun was still low in the sky, and the air was cool and still from the night.

The best part was, I was the only one up yet.

Which was good for a couple reasons, not only because I was happy to have the beautiful morning to myself for a few minutes, but it also gave me the chance to try my hand at making some camp coffee, and maybe even toast for everyone.

I knew the guys thought I was a lost cause—totally freaked by my surroundings and in no condition to contribute much of anything to the dig. That they thought I was just here because I had to be and that my future in archeology would be behind a desk.

But their estimation of me was wrong. And they’d be learning that soon.

Hell, I’d disposed of our visiting scorpion the night before.

While waiting for the coffee to brew, I pulled my shoulders back and held my head high as I studied the horizon. That had been one of the most badass things I’d ever done in my life.

Looked like this trip might be full of chances to prove that I could hang as well as any of the guys. It was just that I was still… adjusting.

It was to be expected, if you asked me.

These guys I was with, I was sure their first trip to a place like this was just as eye-opening. There was no way someone could be prepared for those squatter toilets like I used back at the airport. But hey, I took care of business. And took a picture of that damn thing when I was done so I could show the people back home.

I heard the sound of people in the distance, and realized that at the next camp over—well, the only other camp besides ours—people were getting up and making coffee, just like I was.

Drake had told me that dig, about three hundred yards away, was run by some old colleagues of his, looking for artifacts similar to what we hoped to find.

Like our camp, theirs was mostly guys, and if my eyes weren’t deceiving me, a couple of them were staring me down.

Jesus. There weren’t many of us women in archeology, but these guys didn’t need to act like they were looking at an alien.

Just then, one of them waved. I pretended not to see. I didn’t want to encourage him or to think he could come on over for a visit. I had enough on my hands with Drake, Penn, and Jonas.

Seriously. Even when he’d been married, Professor Bancroft was the object of many a college girl’s crush. It was easy to see why. The man looked like he’d walked out of a Ralph Lauren ad with his blond, clean-cut looks. And he dressed surprisingly well for a professor. Like, really well. I saw the bottom of his shoes one time, and they said ‘Ferragamo.’ I knew those babies cost mega-bucks.

College professors didn’t wear shoes that cost hundreds of dollars, and especially not in the nerd fest that was the archeology department, where most people dressed like slobs. So, there was a little bit of mystery around the man. But I didn’t tell anyone what I’d seen. People already talked about him enough, what with his wife making off with some young kid.

The wife he’d clearly adored.

So sad.

The buzz around that had been pretty intense. No one could believe his wife would choose some punky sophomore or whatever he was, over the handsome professor. And when he became single, the number of girls who went after his ass were legendary. But he didn’t take any of them up on their offers, at least not that I’d ever seen. I worked closely with the man. I was pretty sure I’d know if he were up to something.

Not that it was my business.

Then, there were the brothers. Jonas and Penn. They’d been blessed by the gods of good looks, just like Bancroft had.

Professor Keller was head of the department where I was studying. He was kind of a big-wig, so I didn’t see much of him, burdened as he was with non-academic activities like budgets, hiring and firing, and pressing the flesh with other people like the president of the university.

But when I did see him, well he was one man who could stop you in your tracks. He was probably the tallest man I’d ever seen, usually in a hurry, but when he did have a second to say hi, his glittery eyes would drill into my head and right down to my core, leaving me tingling and a little sweaty.

Rumor had it, Keller was not quite as chaste as Bancroft, and that he might actually have gotten into some trouble by dating a student whose father was a big donor, and that’s why he pushed his way into this trip—he needed to lay low for a while. I didn’t know why professors messed around with college girls. I mean, did any good ever come of it?

And then there was the second Keller, whose existence I knew nothing about until I arrived at the airport. I casually tried to get the low down on him on the flight over, but Drake was tight lipped, like he didn’t even want the brothers there to begin with.

I had kind of wondered why the two undergrads scheduled to be part of the team had, at the last minute, been uninvited.

So now there were two Kellers to contend with, and hell did that come as a surprise. The universe was in a good mood the day it created those two. Probably still laughing its ass off at what it did to the rest of us.

What were the chances that I’d be camping in the desert with three of the most gorgeous men any woman had ever laid eyes on—and that two of them were freaking identical twins?

Thank goodness, Penn Keller had facial hair. Otherwise, I’d never be able to tell him apart from his brother. They both wore their dark hair on the long side, about shoulder length. Of course, Professor Keller often pulled his back into a ponytail, which just tempted the girls even more. Penn seemed to mostly wear his down.

Those were the only differences between them, at least that I could see.

“Coffee, yes. Oh, you are amazing,” someone behind me crooned.

I whirled around to see Professor Keller smiling at me and pointing at the coffee I’d made. And his eyes…

I quickly looked away. I was here in the desert for one reason and one reason only. I did not need to be finding my campmates attractive.

No. That would be completely inappropriate.

“Morning,” I chirped, busying myself. “How do you take your coffee, Professor Kell—”

He raised his hands, interrupting me. “Wait, wait, wait. Fleur, please call me Jonas. And my brother is Penn. Okay?”

Okay, I had to look at him now. It would have been rude not to.

And my god, he was cute in his slightly wrinkled clothes and case of bed head. I wanted to just run my fingers through his hair—

Someone else was up, now.

“Morning, bro,” he said over his shoulder.

I turned to offer Penn some coffee when my gaze snapped back to Jonas.

There was no telling them apart. At all.

“What happened to your…” I pointed to his face.

Penn rubbed his freshly shaved chin. “Oh yeah. Way too hot for the desert. This will be so much cooler. In fact, if you have any extra elastic, I’ll pull my hair back like my brother here. That will be a cooler way to go, as well.”

Great. Now, there’d be no telling them apart.

And that’s when Drake appeared on the scene, inquiring after everyone’s sleep quality. I busied myself pouring coffee and then making more, even though we probably didn’t need it, so I could avoid answering his question.

Like I would tell them I’d been up most of the night due in part to my fear of dying from a poisonous scorpion sting.

“You’re looking very safari this morning, Fleur,” Drake said as I handed him his coffee.

I gestured toward my outfit. Nice of him to notice. “Oh this? I’ve had these old things forever.” I laughed, brushing off what I hoped was a compliment.

“Then why is there an REI tag on the back of your pants?” Penn asked.

Fuck.

“Oh. Isn’t that funny, I have no idea where that came from,” I lied, reaching around and yanking it off.

“Well, you look great, anyway. Ready to rock that Indiana Jones look, huh? By chance, you don’t have a fedora like his, do you?” Drake asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Well, shit.

I actually did have an Indiana Jones-style fedora. But fuck if I were going to wear it now.

I made a mental note to stuff it in the bottom of one of my suitcases first chance I got.

“Thank you for the coffee, Fleur. Since you hooked us up with this, how ’bout I make breakfast?”

I smiled, still shaking off the embarrassment over my pants—the ones I’d had ‘forever.’

“That would be great. I’ll just excuse myself for a moment, then.”

All the fake enthusiasm was making me sick.

But I was hungry and especially curious to see what one ate for breakfast in the desert. I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be bagels, lox, and cream cheese.

Coffee in hand, I retreated back to my tent to straighten up and hide the unfortunate fedora. And just before my return to breakfast, I hooked my new tool belt around my waist since I was on the first shift along with Drake. I was feeling damn good. Official, even. Super official.

I was a real archeologist now.

I just hoped I’d be able to pull my weight while I was learning.

“Holy crap,” Jonas said as I clanked around the corner, my hanging tools swinging against each other as I walked. “Now she really looks like Indiana Jones.”

Everyone laughed. But me.

I was pretty sure I was being mocked.

“What do you have on there, Fleur?” Penn asked, checking out the collection hanging from my waist.

I looked down as if I’d forgotten what I was wearing. “Oh, you know. My tools—trowels, spades, measuring tape, brushes. I have a sieve and bucket I can attach later if we need it.”

I’d found the tools interesting in that they were just little things you could find at any hardware store. I wasn’t clear on what was so specialized about them. In fact, the trowels looked just like cake servers. I considered bringing along the one in my own kitchen, from Williams Sonoma, but thought better of it.

“Yeah, that’s quite something,” Jonas said, rocking that damn crooked smile.

“I need one of those belts,” Drake laughed.

They didn’t all have them?

I’d found my mine in the back of Archeology Monthly, where all sorts of things for the committed archeologist were for sale. It was also where I got my fedora, now mangled in the bottom of one of my suitcases.

“So, um, you guys don’t have anything like this to carry your tools in?” I asked carefully.

I was getting the feeling this hadn’t been the best purchase.

“I don’t have one,” Drake boomed, setting hard boiled eggs and canned fruit in front of us.

I didn’t really care for canned fruit. Way too sugary. But I was damned if I were going to open my mouth and ask for fresh fruit.

Drake looked at Penn and Jonas, who shook their heads.

They didn’t have them, either?

“But I think I’m gonna get one,” Jonas said. “Yours is great. Really very practical.”

In spite of his kudos, he looked at his brother and pressed his lips together. Hard.

Fine. They thought I was a dork. I didn’t care. Just because they were old pros at this and I didn’t know shit, didn’t mean I was laughable.

I was going to wear my goddamn tool belt all day, every day, just to show them how useful it was.

* * *