A/N: I don't own Jurassic World... Which is probably a good thing, because if I did I would probably ruin it with my enthusiasm...
Anyway, sorry Ive posted this chapter so late, Ive been in the mountains, sans wifi, which is pretty scary. (AND HOLY SHIT OWEN'S SASS IS JUST. UGH. I CANT DO IT.)
Chantel waved at the two men, grinning as she stepped out of the air conditioned office. The first half of her day was spent with Owen sullenly explaining the raptor enclosure, as if her presence annoyed him; yet as the day went on, he seemed to relax and he had even flirted and cracked some jokes with her.
Chantel bit her lip as she walked, thinking about how her cheeks warmed whenever he spoke to her. Not a good sign.
Owen Grady was, she had to admit, pretty damn perfect, in terms of personality and looks.
His dirt-streaked blue shirt could barely conceal his amazingly toned arms and torso. It wasn't his lightly tanned skin or his tousled brown hair that made her heart flutter (well, that wasn't completely true), it was his eyes. She could have easily gotten lost in their deep blue color that reminded her of ocean, or the color of the sky just before evening.
Chantel bit her lip, closing her eyes and drawing in a deep, angry breath.
She wasn't here to have a stupid schoolgirl crush. She needed to focus on her job. Besides, someone like Owen would never notice someone like her.
"Chantel," a deep voice accompanied with the rumble of an engine tugged her out of her thoughts and she whipped around toward the noise.
"Thought you mind need a lift," he smirked, patting the seat behind him.
Chantel raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You don't seriously expect me to get on that thing, right?"
The woman folded her arms; though she had never actually been on a motorcycle herself, she had had a decent amount of friends who had gotten into accidents with them. They were definitely not Chantel's first choice of transportation.
Owen pouted in mock hurt. "Are you suggesting I'm a bad driver?"
"That's exactly what I'm suggesting," the woman said with narrowed eyes.
Owen scoffed. "Are you kidding? I've had this baby for years," he patted the engine affectionately.
Chantel raised her brow. On the one hand, if she walked, she'd probably collapse from exhaustion (her first day had been surprisingly eventful, though if you work at a raptor paddock, it's bound to be). On the other hand, giving Owen the satisfaction of letting him give her a ride was not something she liked the idea of. It was such a dilemma...
"Fine. If I die then I'm suing you," she said as she gingerly straddled the bike. Thank God she was wearing jean shorts.
"Y'know I'm only doing this cause they haven't given me my car yet," she warned as he grinned over his shoulder at her.
"You should probably hold-"
Chantel's arms wrapped around his waist tightly, squeezing her eyes shut.
"-on." Owen finished, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Just go." She growled, trying her very hardest not to notice his chiseled abs which, to her dismay, were her only anchor. She couldn't have been more relieved that he couldn't see her blushing.
Owen laughed and revved the engine before taking off down the dusty road.
It wasn't far to the lake which lay between the two bungalows, only about ten minutes to be specific, however Chantel felt like it was much longer.
Chantel hated herself for not being able to find something else to focus on, other than Owen's muscles. She mentally kicked herself. "Focus," she growled to herself.
However, she unfortunately didn't notice the mischievous grin that was spreading over the raptor trainer's face.
Suddenly, Owen swerved, the wheels skidding in the dust. Chantel yelped, clinging to him with a death grip, which only produced a barking laugh from Owen as he righted the course of the bike. "You ass!" She shouted over the wind.
"It's nice isn't it?" He said seriously, twisting around to pretend to admire his butt.
"Eyes on the road!" Chantel screeched, burying her head into his leather vest. She could feel the vibrations of his body as he chuckled, skillfully maneuvering the road.
Chantel breathed in. He smelled of mint and earth and sweat. Chantel pulled away, horrified. Great. Now she was smelling him.
After what seemed like forever to Chantel, they arrived at the raptor trainer's bungalow and Chantel quickly jumped off, pulling her dark hair into a ponytail. She glanced at Owen who was snickering at her as the engine rumbled to a stop and she scowled at him.
But it seemed that Owen's laughter was infectious, because a smile began to tug at her lips. "Next time I'd appreciate it if you don't practice your stunts while I'm on that thing," Chantel scolded him halfheartedly, trying and failing to force her small smile away.
"So there'll be a next time?" Owen asked, amusement glittering in his gorgeous eyes.Her eyes widened and she pursed her lips. She didn't know why it was so impossible to keep her pulse in check?
Chantel raised an eyebrow. Though, she had only met him this morning, she felt like she had almost known him for years, yet there was something mysterious about him that she couldn't put her finger on. Maybe it was because he never volunteered any information about himself, instead changing the subject or asking about her...
"You wish." Chantel retorted over her shoulder, deciding that her rapidly thudding heart was a sign that she should not be close to the raptor trainer. Half of her, though she would never admit it, wished that he would make her stay.
She turned, holding up two fingers in a mock solute as she walked backwards "'Night boss."
Owen gave her a lopsided grin as he walked up the creaky wooden steps of his bungalow. "Not so fast, soldier," he chuckled, opening a cooler on the porch, "wanna beer?"
Chantel hesitated. A beer sounded absolutely perfect right now... But she imagined that pretty much anything Owen Grady suggested would sound perfect.
To her slight surprise she nodded, reaching up to catch the beer he had tossed her. Chantel stepped up to the porch, leaning her forearms against the railing casually as she popped open the can.
As she sipped the beverage, her eyes followed Owen who had taken another beer out of the cooler and made his way so that he was standing next to her.
"So," he took a swig of beer, "where do you come from?"
"L.A. Pretty different from here." She said simply, glancing down at her beer as she swirled it around a little. "But at least I'm pretty used to heat by now."
Owen chuckled, studying her carefully. "Did Masrani drag you out here himself?"
"Yup." Chantel drained her beer, turning towards the raptor trainer. "Does he do that with everyone or am I just special?" She teased, grinning playfully.
Owen offered her a quirky grin, "He was probably just trying to get to you before Claire does."
Chantel laughed, glancing down at her empty beer can, eager to find something to distract her from Owen's gaze. "Trust me, she got to me years before Simon did."
Owen's eyebrows raised. "You know Claire?" He sounded totally and utterly shocked, which Chantel couldn't help but laugh lightly at.
"Ever since high school," she turned so that her back was against the railing, "believe it or not, Claire used to be pretty awkward..." Chantel smiled fondly. "Ahh, the mysterious methods of puberty."
"Well, I don't know about you but I was just always this attractive," Owen smirked down at her.
"Haha." she said dryly, surprised how casual her voice sounded, when her pulse was speeding so fast. There really was something wrong with her.
"And were you always this cocky?" She teased, with mock curiosity.
"Only if I wanted to be," he shot back with a grin.
Chantel groaned. "Jesus. What am I going to do with you?" She straightened to toss her empty can away.
"Well, there are lots of things; you could continue this with me inside my bungalow, preferably without-"
"Owen. You know that's not what I meant," she said condescendingly but the amusement in her eyes betrayed her.
"You sure about that?" He laughed, his blue eyes glittering mischievously
"Well... The offer is tempting," she joked with a laugh. Again she wondered how this man could be her boss... A boss who had met her today and was now flirting with her...
"Anyway, I'd better go back now," she said jabbing a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of her bungalow. "Thanks for the beer," she winked.
Chantel marveled at how quickly Owen's attitude changed from playful to calm as he nodded in acknowledgement. He'd be a puzzle to figure out.
"See ya tomorrow." He said as she walked. Chantel nodded and turned, glad he couldn't see the happy grin on her face as she made her way to her own home. She was definitely looking forward to "day two".
Owen watched Chantel's retreating figure, a grin spreading across his face. He had to admit, he enjoyed her company much more than he originally thought he would.
Owen ambled into his bungalow, setting his can of beer on the counter and pulling off his dusty boots. He drew his gaze up and out of the window where a light from the bungalow across the lake blinked on as Chantel apparently stepped inside.
Owen's lips curved upwards in yet another small smile before he collapsed onto his bed, cushioning his head on his arms. He would have to amend his earlier statement: he was definitely looking forward to tomorrow.
Chantel awoke to the sound of birds twittering. She had, for the first time in a quite a while, slept for a whole night...
She glanced groggily over at her bedside table and flung her arm in the general direction of it, reaching for her phone. She turned it on. One text from Claire and one from Dr. Grant. She was about to reply when she paused. What time was it?
"Oh shit!" Chantel exclaimed, bolting upright and flinging the covers back. It was already 7:00.
As she struggled with her shorts, Chantel unlocked her phone to read Claire's most recent text.
Claire: How was the first day? Did you meet Owen?
Chantel hastily typed out a reply, pulling on her shirt. "Great. Yes, I, met, him." She said the words segmentally out loud, her thumbs working furiously.
With that Chantel stuffed her phone in her pocket, grabbing her car keys (which she had found in an envelope last night, along with her car parked out front) and rushed outside.
She slid into the car and, without bothering with her buckle, drove off, dust billowing up from behind the wheels. Chantel gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles growing white. She hated to be late.
She skidded to a halt in front of the raptor paddock and flung the door open. As she clambered up the metal stairs, she pulled her hair back into a messy bun, though a few unruly strands fell out, framing her face.
Once upstairs she burst into the office, feeling extremely flustered. "I-I'm here!" She pronounced, out of breath.
Owen and Barry glanced up at her from some files they had been discussing. Owen smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Great to know," he said as she blushed furiously.
"I have some exciting news. Drumroll please," he looked at Barry pointedly, who sighed and shook his head. "Fine forget the drumroll. Today," he paused for suspense, "we'll be working inside the paddock."
A/N: Chris Pratt is hot.