Lark accepted the water bottle. “Yes, doctor. But I expect the full scoop on the drive home tomorrow. No pensive silence. No short-changing. The. Full. Shit. Got it?”
Tabitha chuckled despite herself and the ominous vibe she got for the coming day. But taking in her friend’s pathetic state of misery softened her edges. “Got it.”
“She’s still sick?” Frankie leaned against the counter at OtB, sipping on a coffee calorie bomb. Tabitha watched as a few rogue sprinkles slipped down the side of her own plastic cup in a trail of melted whip. She appreciated the gesture of her new friend surprising her with a coffee before the excursion. Still, she wished the triple caramel mocha frapp-a-whatever was a simple iced Americano.
“Yep. I’ve never seen her so drained,” Tabitha confirmed. Lark was always so vibrant and colorful. Her current state was a lot to take in. “No issues with you even though you had the same poke bowl?”
“Nope. But I’ve got the gut of a hyena. I don’t think I’ve ever had food poisoning.”
“Probably because you’ve trained it to tolerate some over-the-top shit,” Zac cut in to the conversation as he strode into the lobby from the back room. He laid eyes on Tabitha and gave a congenial grin. “Good morning, Tabitha.”
Oof. Tabitha?
The omission of his usual, playful nicknames stung but she didn’t have the energy for awkwardness, so she opted to ignore it altogether.
“Woah,” Frankie said. “Someone looks spiffy today. What’s the occasion?”
She wasn’t wrong. While Zac’s original long beard and chaotic waves had given him a devil-may-care vibe, his current aesthetic was equally striking.
“I saw a barber last night.” He raised a hand to sun-kissed brown hair, careful not to disrupt the neatly tied knot at the back of his head. “He trimmed the beard too. Said he gave me thetidy Viking.”
“You look nice.” And that was underselling it. To be honest, the man looked downright lickable. Tabitha pictured him between her legs, tickling her inner thighs with his newly groomed facial hair.
Stop that.
She had to focus on the excursion and the article. Daydreaming could get one of them hurt or worse. And she was desperate to escape the day in one piece. The lead class on Monday had helped to boost her confidence and shake away the nerves, the impending multi pitch would be a completely different event. A lot could go wrong on any one of the pitches. Her heartbeat picked up speed. She wiped her clammy hands on her hips and inhaled a deep—yet covert—breath.
She had this.
Zac had her.
“Thanks,” Zac said, scanning her face like he could read her thought. “I’ve got the truck loaded. Triple-checked all the gear and snacks. And I pulled this out of my closet.” He patted the camera bag he wore across his chest.
“Couldn’t find a photographer on short notice, huh?” Tabitha asked woefully.
“You mean with twenty-five minutes to spare? No.”
Some of her forced calm wavered. Without a professional photographer to take pictures of the multi-pitch, she desperately hoped Lark had some stellar shots from the earlier outings to make up for the miss.R ‘n’ Rreaders would want to see the multi pitch. And Claudia wasn’t easily satisfied, so she really hoped that whatever shots they could pull together would be enough. “Well. I suppose there’s nothing we can do about it now.”
“That’s the spirit,” Zac chuckled with forced cheer. “Ready to roll out?”
Tabitha nodded and followed her guide out the back door to the waiting truck. One last excursion to get through—eight measly hours—and then she could get out of her ex’s hair and meticulously groomed beard.
Why did that thought fill her with such disappointment?
Chapter thirty-five
Zac
Tabithasaidverylittleon the drive out to Castle Rock, but the tension coming off of her spoke volumes. She’d rather be anywhere else or with anyone other than Zac. But until the end of the day she was stuck with his ass and would just have to deal with it.
And he would have to do his best to keep his hands to himself.
Better than his usual best, anyway.
He’d spent the bulk of last night trying to convince himself that their romantic interlude had been a bad idea all through painting the nursery with Todd, the trip to the barber, and while lying in bed until his noisy brain decided to shut the hell up. The logic was there: He wanted his friends’ respect and playing the part of the group ho wasn’t exactly putting him on Jon’s most reliable list. Beyond that, Tabitha was on assignment. For her job as a journalist. For a magazine that happened to be doing a pretty extensive article on Off the Beaten Adventures.
They had history, sure, but whatever false start to a young romance had happened in the past, he had to consider the future. Both of their futures.
