“I’ll be damned,” said Michael, jolting her back to the present and him crowding her space. “I wasn’t sure he had it in him.”
She couldn’t help but agree. Mr. Bransford had never done anything particularly encouraging, especially where his wife was concerned, but every time she thought she had the couple neatly pigeonholed into boxes, they did something to prove her wrong.
In less than five minutes, Jessica tapped out at the top of the pitch and then rappelled back down, grinning all the way. Mr. Bransford’s climb was nowhere near as smooth and graceful as his wife’s. But Jessica shouted a constant stream of encouragement and somehow her husband managed to muscle his way up the rock. When he tapped out, his wife got so excited she jumped up and down and Amanda took a step closer in case she needed to remind her of her belay duties.
They waited another fifteen minutes for the last pair to come down and the scores to go up. The Bransfords put the team in a very respectable fourth place, somewhere near the middle of the pack. The first whistle sounded and Amanda stepped up to the rock. Double-checking her gear and Michael’s, she assumed her position at the base of the pitch. They’d decided Michael would climb first and, being the strongest climber on the team and possibly in the competition, she’d close things out for them. She’d half expected him to protest. Despite her abundance of experience, Ethan wouldn’t let her be the team’s anchor, not without at least pretending to protest. Michael simply nodded and waited for her instructions.
“Ready?” she asked, and he hit her with a smile so genuine, it stole her breath.
“Absolutely. Left first to the fingerhold and then to the right,” he said, repeating word for word the instructions she’d given him earlier.
There was no ego, no macho posturing, or need to prove his masculinity. When the second whistle blew, he reached for the rock and started to climb it exactly the way she’d instructed him. It would’ve been refreshing, if she wasn’t stuck on the ground watching his butt flex as he made his way up the pitch. He relied on his legs, using his hands more for balance and leverage than to haul himself up the rock. None of that minimized the strength in his arms or the way the muscles in his back bunched as he worked his way up the rock.
He wore a T-shirt and compression shorts under looser athletic shorts—a lot more clothing than many of the climbers wore on the warm early fall day, but it did little to hide his impressive body. And if she had to admit it, that was part of his charm. He had the kind of abs ad companies used to sell fitness gear, but instead of rocking tanks and clothes that showed them off, he went a quieter, much less assuming route. He didn’t have to posture and chest bump. It was almost like just knowing he had the muscles negated the need to try to show them off.
“That’s it. You’re doing great,” she said, forcing her attention away from his powerful legs and back to his climbing. “Up and to the right.”
The fingerhold he reached for was tiny but it would give him just enough of an anchor to swing his leg into position to make the next push up the pitch. He stretched his arm out, his back and shoulder stretching in one long line to his fingertips. She could tell the moment his hand touched the hold because his body froze—not relaxing exactly—more held in tension and poised to move.
“You’ve got it,” she called up the face. “Take a breath and then move. Your body knows what to do.”
He nodded without looking down and she saw his chest expand as he drew in a breath. He held it for a fraction of a second and then all the energy he’d been holding in tension unfurled and he propelled himself up the surface of the pitch. It was the trickiest bit of the climb and he’d executed it beautifully.
She let out a whoop. Clinging to the surface of the rock, he turned to look down at her, his smile curving his lips and lighting his eyes from the inside. She met his smile with her own, and for a perfect moment, nothing existed but the rock in front of them and the connection between them. She shook her head, trying to remember why it wasn’t supposed to be like that, and broke the spell.
Michael turned back to the rock and finished the pitch as if he’d been climbing for years instead of just a few of months. In moments, he tapped out at the top and started his rappel.
“Nice,” she said when his feet hit the ground beside her. “Very nice.”
“I’ve got a great teacher.”
She felt her face flush, but there wasn’t time to consider her feelings. She had just enough time to adjust the gear before the first whistle sounded and it was her turn to get into position to climb.
Amanda double-checked her gear and the rope running through the belay rig attached to Michael’s harness. She’d fallen before. Lots of times, actually. No one climbed seriously without falling. Maybe it should have, but it didn’t scare her. She trusted her judgment and relied on her equipment for when things didn’t go according to plan. Going over the last details gave her the reassurance she needed to approach the rock without fear.
Dipping her fingers into her chalk bag, she waited for the second whistle before putting her hands on the sun-warmed rock.
Feeling the peace that settled over her every time she approached the rock to climb on her own, she stepped up and smeared her shoe against the surface until she found the hold. With the heat of the sun radiating off the granite, she smiled to herself and started to climb.
HAVING AMANDA COACH him up the rock had been different than anything Michael ever experienced before. She’d coaxed and coached him when they were practicing, but the pressure of competition added an immediacy he hadn’t felt before. Having her in his ear, following his movements, literally tethered to him as she guided him up the pitch, had been almost surreal. Maybe for the first time in his life, he let someone else direct the action. He still felt very present, but it was her words, both remembered and spoken in the moment, that determined how he moved and when. He’d climbed better than he’d ever climbed before.
But it was nothing compared to the way Amanda practically danced up the rocks. She moved as if gravity didn’t apply to her—as if there were somehow different rules. He didn’t dare turn around. He wouldn’t take his focus off her as she climbed, but he could feel the other participants gathering behind him. Heard their murmurs and gasps as she executed one spectacularly graceful move after another.
As he watched her, he could see what she’d been trying to teach them, see the physical manifestation of her words in the way she moved. But more than that, he could see she was completely in her element. Like a bird who’d been caged and was suddenly set free, she stretched out, her body almost elongating under his gaze, and she soared, moving effortlessly over the granite surface.
Her body held none of the tension he’d felt making his way up the rock. Instead, it was fluid energy, shifting seamlessly from one state to another. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and watching her climb, he had to remind himself to breathe.
Too soon, she reached the top of the pitch, and he could hear the disappointment he felt echoed in the murmurs of the spectators behind him. She tapped out and glanced over her shoulder, her eyes going a little wide at the sight of the people gathered behind him. Then her gaze met his and her smile caught his heart and held on tight. He’d have to pry her loose to get rid of the hold Amanda Southerland had on him.
She gave him a quick wink, mimicking the move he’d tried on her, and then she began to rappel down the granite surface, moving almost as gracefully in her descent as she had on the climb. When her feet touched the ground, the surprisingly large crowd erupted behind him. Before he could remind himself why he shouldn’t and catalogue all the reasons it was a horrible idea, he reached for her, pulling her into his arms for a hug.
She fit like they were made for each other, and it only took a fraction of a second for her posture to change from shocked to melting into him. Wrapping his arm around her back and cradling her head with his other hand, he pulled her against him, relishing the feeling Amanda in his arms.
“You’re spectacular.” He whispered the words against the delicate shell of her ear and felt her shiver against him.
He breathed in the clean soap scent of her shampoo and warm woman, and something deep in his chest relaxed. It was just the two of them, standing in the shadow of the mountain, and it was perfect. One of the spectators wolf whistled while another yelled a teasingget a room. In a split second, the spell broke and Amanda froze in his arms, her body going rigid. The next thing he knew, she was pulling away from him as if she’d been electrocuted.
She didn’t look at him as she started to pack up the gear. He wanted to take her face in his hands and force her to meet his gaze, force her to admit there was something between them, but he knew without a doubt, if he did that, she’d bolt. And he was even more sure that he’d happily take whatever moments with Amanda Southerland he could get.
