“When Jonathan and I hit fifteen, we begged his folks to give us odd jobs to make a little money. Janet—she’s our office manager and cranky as hell—fought tooth and nail until Patty—that’s Jon’s mom—insisted we’d be fine to do some filing.”
“And how did that go?” Tabitha asked.
“We created double the work for Janet, who had to undo the disaster we’d made,” Zac shared sheepishly, remembering how put out the office manager had been that day. He knew she’d never cared much for him, but that event truly solidified her distaste.
“That’s rough.”
Zac nodded then decided to turn the tables. “What aboutyou?”
“Whataboutme?”
“I have no clue what you’ve been up to for the last decade and a half.”
“You could have.”
Ouch.
Her words were sharp in tone and meaning alike. It was a punch she didn’t feel the need to pull because it was true. He’d been the one to leave.
“Tabitha, I—”
“Forget it. That slipped out.”
The truck bumped down the dirt road as they neared the little parking area. All the while silence hung heavily in the cab, practically suffocating Zac while his mind raced about mistakes he’d made recently and so many years ago.
God, he was a fuck up.
Never knowing when to value something enough to take it seriously. He’d screwed up countless times and any minute the people in his life—people he loved and considered family—would start dropping like flies.
“Zac?” Tabitha’s tentative voice lilted through his self deprecation.
“Yes?” He parked the truck and turned off the ignition before turning to face her.
She chewed on her lip, formulating just the right structure for her words again. “I really need today to go well.”
Zac shifted nearer to her and reached out a hand to place on hers but rethought the gesture and pulled back. Instead, he grabbed the keys and pocketed them. And as he pushed open his door he responded with a heavy, “You have my word.”
Chapter thirty-six
Tabitha
Thesunbarelycrestedthe highest treetops in the distance as Tabitha and Zac tromped up the trail to the start of their multi-pitch climb. Quickdraws clanked together in time to the beat of each step. The metallic rhythm played though the surrounding bushes and branches, announcing the approach of the two climbers.
They’d split the gear between them, though Zac had insisted on taking more than half because of their size comparison. Tabitha had rolled her eyes but accepted his offer. She’d never shied away from pulling her own weight, but there was nothing in her reserve tank that she was willing to allocate to an argument. And lately, since she’d been out of the multi-pitch game for so long—let alone any outdoor climbing—the weight of the smaller pack was still a sizeable challenge.
Zac, leading the way ahead of her, carried a load that was twice the weight and bulk. Tabitha suspected he’d overpacked, but she wasn’t going to call it out. Especially since he’d been on one of these excursions more recently than she had. Deferring to his recent expertise didn’t bother her.
He also wore the small camera bag around his neck and looped under his arm to hold it steady. How he would play photographer while also climbing was beyond her, but even if he managed to get a shot of her at the top of the route she’d be happy.
Nerves zinged through her body as she visualized the upcoming hours of climbing. She'd been able to brush them aside with the other two excursions with relative ease, but a multi pitch was a whole different monster. They'd be climbing so much higher—which meant a fall would be that much farther. For the first time in a long time, Tabitha's leg ached, as though it was asking if she really wanted to do this.
Sweat beaded on her upper lip and palms. She took a deep breath and scolded herself to chill before her spiral hit a place of no return. She turned her attention to her climbing guide.
“You got any experience with that thing?” Tabitha called over the rhythmic clanging of gear, hoping a little conversation would ease her anxiety.
“I havetonsof experience,” he crooned, tossing a smirk over his shoulder. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
Tabitha rolled her eyes so hard she nearly pulled a muscle. The man had no off switch. “I’m talking about the camera, Mr. Impromptu Photographer Slash Climbing Guide.”
