Risk of injury from the activity and equipment, including the potential for significant and/or permanent disability and death.
Possible equipment failure and/or malfunction of my own or other’s equipment.
Attack by or encounter with insects, reptiles, and/or other animals.
Accidents or illnesses occurring in remote places where there are no available medical facilities….
The list went on and on.
"You okay, Karen?"
I swallowed, looking up at the dreamy man whose wedding ring glinted in the morning sun. Drake Andrews had to be one of the most attractive men I'd ever met.
"Um, yep."
He grinned, and my heart sighed.
"Look, it's a technical waiver, but we've had no major injuries beyond a few strains and bruises. We've been here for nearly five years now, and, God willing, we'll never have a serious injury. Dane and I are trained professionals. Don't worry, we've got you."
I nodded, butterflies the size of jet planes still flapping in my stomach.
"Right. Of course." I signed the waiver, handing it back to him. "Is it just you and me today?"
He checked my answers, making a small note in one of the margins. "Actually, you're a little early. The rest of the crew hasn't arrived yet."
"Oh."
He looked up, his friendly grin still in place. "How about we take you inside and get you kitted up, that way you can relax with some coffee while we wait."
"Um, sure."
I followed him into a large barn that had been converted into a classroom and storage for the multitudes of equipment. The place felt surprisingly modern despite the wood.
"Do you mind if I take a picture and start recording this?" I asked, holding up my spare phone. "It's for the—"
"Wicked Women podcast." Drake grinned. "Your producer told us when she booked it. And if we hadn't known then, our wife would have told us."
"Our?"
"Mine and his," a gruff voice said behind me. I twisted, looking over my shoulder to see another delicious man enter the barn. He held out a hand for me to shake.
"I'm Dane."
