Chapter nine
Tabitha
Ifshemarchedawaystiffly enough, maybe Tabitha wouldn’t give away the wobble of her knees. Of all the things she expected on this assignment, having to play nice with the man who broke her tender, young heart nearly two decades ago wasn’t on the list. It wasn’t even on the waitlist. Yet there he was, in the large, imposing flesh, boasting far more muscles and hair than she remembered.
“Are you all right?” Frankie asked as Tabitha hauled her bag onto the picnic table.
“Yes,” she huffed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because of . . . whatever that was?” The guide pointed across the clearing.
“You’re wasting your breath, Frankie, my love. This gal gives a steel trap a run for its money. I tried to get the deets out of her last night. Not even tequila shots could loosen those lips,” Lark provided, wincing a little under the stab of Tabitha’s warning glare.
Frankie’s attention pinballed between both woman and Zac, until she finally raised her hands in defeat. “Fine. Fine. Why don’t we go meet the rest of the group?”
A short while later, after a round of brief introductions, the women were paired off and tasked with skills practice. Before anyone was allowed to leave the ground, their belaying and clipping technique had to be solid. As an experienced competitive climber, Tabitha could have taught the course herself, but she patiently followed along and took directions without complaint. Getting the full experience would be beneficial for the article. This class was specifically for climbers taking their first leap outdoors. And perhaps the refresher would be the reset she needed to shake her anxiety.
She could be patient and observe.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t say the same for her practice buddy, Beck.
“Yaaaaaaawn,” the young woman bemoaned. “This is boring.”
Tabitha shrugged and continued feeding rope as Beck pulled at random intervals to simulate leading a route. “It’s part of the course.”
“What are you even doing here?”
Tabitha looked up in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t need this class,” she mumbled. “Take.”
With deft motions, Tabitha pulled up all the slack and held firm to the rope. “What gave me away?”
“Besides your calloused hands, arm muscles, the bruise on your knee, and your wildly aggressive shoes?”
“I’m that obvious?” The assessment was spot on, and Tabitha was impressed the young woman so hell bent on getting on the wall was paying attention to anything else.
“Oh yeah.” Beck giggled.
Zac strode by, analyzing the rhythm the two women had developed and nodded approvingly. “Well done,” he praised. Tabitha felt a slight ripple of pleasure trickle down her spine as he winked and continued down the line.
“Aaaand then there’s that.”
“That what?” Tabitha scoffed.
“Our instructor has the hots for you.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“I don’t think—”
“Come on. He’s been eye fucking you since the moment you joined us.”
“He hasn’t—”
“Do you guys have history or something? Oh! Or is it instalove?”
The sudden pinch in Tabitha’s heart arrested her breath. A forgotten, yet familiar longing crept in and settled. She glanced over her shoulder, watching Zac stride down the line of climbers. His solid hands rested with authority on his hips, hands that had traced every inch of her body once upon a time. Years had fogged her memory, but the sudden reminder caused rich sensation to flood back in.
Click click click.
