by Marina Adair
Grace’s hands flew to her mouth. “You did Bella’s wish.”
Avery nodded.
“You kissed Bella Reed’s infamous Parisian suitor?” Liv asked in case there was another Bella in Avery’s journal.
“He wasn’t a Parisian, or even European, but yes.”
Liv’s eyes went misty, as did Avery’s. Bella wasn’t just another Living for Love sister. She had been one of their closest friends, the fourth member of their posse, and a woman whose life had barely begun when loss struck in the form of cancer. It took her breasts, then her freedom, and eventually her life—but it never touched her sense of romance.
“Oh my God.” Grace grabbed her hands, bouncing up and down in her chair. “You kissed someone. You. Avery Adams, the girl who ran to the bathroom crying when Billy Long kissed her under the monkey bars at recess, kissed someone? Wait.” Her smile faded. “Was it Carson? Please tell me it wasn’t Carson.”
Avery snorted. Last year the idea would have thrilled her. Not anymore. Avery didn’t want to live her life as if there were a clock ticking.
“It wasn’t Carson.” Carson had never shaken her foundation like Ty had. “It was a stranger I met on Lake Street. I bought him a drink, and then I kissed him. That was it.”
“If that was it, then why are you smiling like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re floating.”
“I’m not floating.” Avery looked at the ground and, yup, her feet were firmly planted on the floor. Didn’t mean she was on solid ground, though. At first, she’d convinced herself that the weightlessness was an overload of adrenaline and testosterone—two chemicals she hadn’t had a lot of recent experience with.
But as the strange lightness grew, she began to wonder if it was the kiss itself—or what the kiss represented. Either way she felt different. Invincible.
Ready to finally climb Sierra Point.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed.
“What are you doing?” Liv asked.
“She’s calling the hottie.” Grace scooted closer, so close she was practically pressing her ear to the phone.
“I’m calling Dale. Telling him I’m ready to lead a trek.”
Grace gave a fist pump in the air. “You tell him.”
“And if he needs to train me, then he needs to set a concrete time.”
Grace slowly lowered her hand to a go get ’em, kid. “Okay, not as balls-out as I thought, but it’s a step in the right direction.”
“Be strong,” Liv coached. “Tell him who you are, why you’re calling, and don’t show fear. Then word it in a way that he can’t say no.” She turned to Grace. “The first time Paxton did that I was so thrown I let him have an ice cream sundae for dinner. In his Batman underwear.”
“A way he can’t say no. Right.”
“And don’t let him distract you,” Grace said over the ringing. Then to Liv, “What did you call it?”
“Mommy misdirection.”
“No mommy misdirection.” Avery squared her shoulders and made a conscious decision not to get distracted right as the phone was picked up.
“Hello?” A sweet-as-pie voice came through the cell.
“Hey, Irene, this is Avery. I’m calling for Dale.”
Clear, to the point, no backing down. She was halfway there. Wow, that was easier than she thought. She gave a thumbs-up to the girls.
“Oh, hey, sweetie, how’s the art class going? I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it. Rough night here.”
Avery looked around and realized that Irene wasn’t there. Which explained why she was answering her home line. “Rough night? Are you sick?”
Irene was the founder of Living for Love. She was the heart and soul behind the group, and the one who had kept it running all of these years. After the sudden death of her youngest son, the community rallied, showering her family with love and constant support to help them get through that trying time. So when Irene got to a place where she could breathe again, she started Living for Love as a way to pay back the kindness she’d received and to offer other women in the community a place to come when they needed support.
Avery’s was the first family she’d helped.
In thirteen years, Irene had only missed two events. That she wasn’t there tonight meant she was either sick, stuck in bad weather, or zombies had attacked.
“Dale took a nap and woke up a little confused, so I figured it was best to stay put.”
Or that.
With a deep breath, Avery sat back down. “I’m so sorry. Is he okay?”
“Just one of his spells,” Irene said, but her tone told Avery she was beginning to believe that it was more than a few spells. The in-patient care center Avery had frequented in her teens when she’d undergone experimental treatment also housed dementia and Alzheimer’s patients. She wasn’t a doctor, but she was pretty sure Dale was in the early stages of one or the other. And Irene wasn’t ready to admit it yet. “Are you returning his call?”
Avery looked at her phone. No missed called. “He called?”
Irene sighed and so did Avery. “He said he did, but who knows. He was supposed to get a hold of you and let you know that Brody took a fall today. Thank goodness he was out with a group of nursing students from Reno State.”
“Lucky him,” Avery said through clenched teeth.
Brody was a former X Games athlete who had a thing for co-eds, nature bunnies, and level one trails. When he combined the two, trouble usually ensued, but he’d most likely taken a fall right into a nurse’s bed and wouldn’t come up for air until ski week ended and classes were back in session.
“Did you see a doctor’s note?”
“Not yet, but he did call me from the ER,” Irene said, releasing a deep breath. “We had to cancel his last trek of the day and need to cancel his schedule for the next two days, which Dale said he’d have you do.”
Knowing that faking ER sounds would be a staple in a guy like Brody’s playbook, she closed her eyes and took a second to calm her irritation before saying, “Okay, I’ll call the clients as soon as I hang up.”
“This couldn’t have come at a worse time. With Dale not feeling his best, canceling on clients will look so unprofessional, especially after that failed safety inspection, not to mention—”
“A failed safety inspection?” Avery cut in, wondering why, as the coordinator and office manager, she hadn’t even known there was an inspection to fail. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have put it on the calendar and made sure we were ready and in inspection shape.”
“Dale said he had it handled and, well . . . If we can’t get it together by the next inspection, we will have to order all new ropes and safety harnesses if we still want to host SAREX.”
Still want to host? Avery had booked the entire lodge for SAREX. If Sequoia Elite Mountain Rescue backed out, the lodge would lose a ton of money. Not to mention the repeat business they counted on. “We’ll get it handled.”
“I hope so.” Irene sounded on the verge of tears, which in itself was not all that uncommon. The woman cried at greeting cards and YouTube cat videos, but this sounded different. Heavy.
And Irene was the sunniest person Avery knew.
But she understood the older woman’s worry. SAREX was a huge moneymaker for the lodge and community. It was also a huge point of pride for Dale. He had pictures of his staff with every year’s team posted around the lodge, dating all the way back to the sixties. A hit like this could explain his level of agitation the past few days. It could also explain why he’d been so curt with her about training.
“We will, I promise. And I promise to take care of the schedule.” Avery swiped the calendar on her cell that connected to the one at work. “You don’t worry about a thing. Marshall has been asking for more hours, so I can give him Brody’s group treks, and I can pass his beginner climbing class to Clay.” The adventure coordinator who had been hired after Avery, yet promoted within weeks. “That leaves a beginner
solo hike and a fishing excursion.”
“I knew I could count on you.” Irene released a telltale sniffle that indicated the crying was back to business as usual.
Grace was shooting her a Don’t get distracted look, and Liv was mouthing, I have got those hikes handled, as in I will do those hikes. Avery waved them both off. She was beyond distracted, and she needed to handle this mess so that Irene could be there for her husband.
“You and Dale can always count on me.”
In unison, her friends let out an exasperated sigh and slumped back in their chairs. Avery sent Dale well wishes, and after a few more instructions about office matters, she ended the call. But when she turned, her friends were staring at her with big, troubling grins.
“What? Brody is injured.” She threw up air quotes around the word. “I need to call him and see how long he plans on faking an injury.”
Last time Brody had gone hiking with a lady in the medical profession it ended in a six-day medical leave. The pediatrician had been single, stacked, and interested. Brody had handed over a note, written on official doctor’s stationery, diagnosing him with bronchitis. Coincidently, it was the same week Dr. McBenefits requested for her vacation from the hospital.
Brody had come back with a tan and a just-been-laid look, while everyone else needed a vacation from juggling schedules to fit in all of the clients.
“Note or not, it’s my job to fill the schedule or cancel on the customer.”
“Or you fill the schedule and put yourself in for the hike,” Liv suggested.
The idea alone had Avery’s stomach fluttering with excitement. But as soon as the first flicker happened, it died. “Dale said no to me going at it solo until he trains me more. I don’t want to cause him any more stress, and I doubt he will be in any condition to train me before six o’clock in the morning.”
Grace’s smile became a full-out grin, and Avery had known her long enough to understand that meant trouble. For Avery. “Dale said no to you taking on a group trek by yourself, not you doing a solo trek.”
Avery considered herself an honest person. She’d never cheated on a test in her life, fallen through on a promise, and never, ever led someone she respected astray. She’d learned life was too precious to behave otherwise.
But facts were facts. Dale hadn’t said no to taking a single client out alone, he’d said no to her taking out a group of clients at the same time. The only people who booked solo beginner walks with a guy like Brody were senior ladies who wanted an afternoon being charmed by a playboy.
“I did promise Irene I would handle it.” And breaking a promise was as bad as a lie as far as Avery was concerned. “How hard can a beginner hike be anyway?”
CHAPTER 5
The sun was barely peeking through the pines as Avery set her pack on the ground. It landed with a solid thud and sank slightly into the damp soil. Not a good sign since she’d have to carry it for the entirety of the five-mile hike around Cedar Rim.
Five miles wasn’t all that bad, and the trail was rated beginner, meaning her grandma could cover it in less than three hours. But her grandma hadn’t gone through major surgery eleven months ago—and wouldn’t be expected to carry a thirty-pound pack.
Kneeling down, Avery ignored the cold as dew seeped through her jeans and opened her bag to see if there was anything she could leave behind. Unfortunately, every item was listed as a necessity in the official adventure guide’s handbook she’d studied late into the night. Water, first aid kit, compass, map, high-protein meal, two ways to make fire, and emergency shelter and bedding.
In her boots, flannel top, orange puffer vest, and knit cap, she looked like a legit adventure guide. She even had the boots and equipment of an adventure guide. Problem was, she didn’t have the body of an adventure guide.
Maybe she could lose the sleeping bag and kindling. Who needed two different ways to make fire? Or maybe she needed to call the client and cancel.
It was late March, but the ground was still frozen over, and the air was so cold she could see her breath. Even with her layers and the puffed vest she’d borrowed from Liv, she was shivering. Her hands were cold enough to freeze-dry ice cream.
She was in over her head. A position Avery had spent most of her life familiarizing herself with and had yet to master.
With numb hands, she pulled her cell out of her pocket to find the number of the client, only instead the phone lit and her favorite picture filled the screen. Her parents sitting atop Sierra Point on their honeymoon. Her mom looked like a real-life Daniel Boone, with her fur-lined hat and boots—only she was sporting two red braids and a grin big enough to change the world.
And her dad was happy, so genuinely happy and in love Avery reached out to touch the image as if the act alone could bring that side of him back. Avery hadn’t seen him smile like that since she was diagnosed. Then when her mom died it was as if all of her dad’s happiness died with her.
Blinking back tears and the hope that things could be different, Avery put her phone away and squared her shoulders. Sierra Point was a million times harder than the Cedar Rim trail, and Lilian had conquered that climb eleven months after her first transplant. If her mom could face down that behemoth of a mountain, Avery could surely handle a little hike in the cold.
So what if her pack was bulky and the client had specifically requested a trail she’d never hiked. She was well read in the world of wilderness, knew every plant in the area, and had two ways to make fire. She’d never actually made fire on demand, but how difficult could a skill that required four steps be?
Not to mention, Avery had one of the best assets a survivalist could possess. Something more important than gadgets and brute strength.
A positive attitude. And not just any positive attitude. One strong enough to see her through death and back—twice.
Avery had come here today to find an adventure, and that’s what she was about to get. And the best part? She was going to help someone else find theirs.
Adjusting her shoulders—and her attitude—she breathed in deep. The scent of pine needles and distant snow burned her nose in a way that reminded her how good it was to be alive. Two things that were a miracle in their own right.
Grabbing her pack, she slung it up and over her shoulder, swaying a bit from the momentum—and the weight. She slipped her arms through the straps and waited for the bag to settle—which it did, far enough back to send her wobbling to the side and—oh God—into the trunk of a giant sequoia. The force of the impact jarred her heart and sent a fall of pine needles and morning dew raining down.
The needles landed in her hair, poking her scalp, and the dew—don’t even get her started on the dew—felt more like ice drops. Then, to her horror, she felt something slip beneath her collar and roll slowly down her neck.
Her eyes slammed shut as she chanted, “It’s just water, it’s just water.” But it wasn’t water. Water didn’t have prickly little legs and—shit shit shit, were those fangs?
Avery never considered herself squeamish by any means, but this didn’t feel like the average run-of-the-mill house pest. This felt a like something Godzilla would attack over the skyline of Tokyo.
So when she released a noise that sounded like a mountain goat bleating for help, she told herself it was justified. Then she told herself to kill it before it killed her.
Lunging forward, she spun around, swatting her hands, hoping to either confuse what she was sure was a big, hairy spider, or make him fly off—and spun herself headfirst into a wall.
A rock-hard wall. With ripples and dips that smelled like heated dreams and the morning sun.
“I got you,” the wall said with some serious morning gravel to its voice.
Avery lifted her gaze to meet a pair of deep brown simmering pools, and she felt her body hum with a surge of adrenaline.
“You,” she breathed, taking in the familiar grin and stubble that had haunted her dreams. It was the stranger from the bar. Her stranger from the bar. “
Ty.”
He wore dark gray craghoppers with one of those fitted black body armor shirts that only looked good on guys with big biceps. His black beanie was pulled low, highlighting his scruff. He looked rugged, ready, and so damn good—too good for six in the morning.
“Morning, angel,” Ty said, his eyes lit with humor. “The brochure boasted about its superiority in customer experience, but this is impressive.” He looked at her hands—which were cupping his pecs. “Nice, but unexpected.”
She snatched her hands back and smoothed them over her braids. A few needles scattered to the ground—and onto his boots. His expensive, well-loved but well-worn boots. Boots a hard-core climber would wear.
“You’re my client?” she asked, her fingers coming to rest on her lips, which were already tingling. His gaze tracked the movement, then trailed down her body, taking in every inch of her, and his grin went dangerous.
Her body was suddenly warm and toasty, and the morning was looking up. A hike in the woods with her own personal mountain man? Avery wanted to kiss the universe in thanks.
“I booked it under a friend’s name.” He looked her up and down. “And you don’t look like Brody.”
“Right.” She straightened and tugged the bottom of her vest. “Brody’s nursing an injured ankle, so I’m stepping in to handle his clients for the day.”
“Huh,” was all he said, but his gaze slipped to her mouth, her neck, and lower until he reached her pack and stopped. He took a few seconds to size up her preparedness, then cocked a single brow in question. “Where are we going? Girl Scout camp?”
She straightened. “I had us taking the Cedar Rim trail, which goes around the back side of Sequoia Lake. But this is your adventure, so if you’d rather spend the afternoon with Girl Scouts, I can call up the local troop. I’ll warn you, though, last month they roasted marshmallows and told campfire stories.” She leaned in to whisper, “Some were not for the faint of heart. But I hear the troop moms make a mean campfire s’more-tini.”
“Not sure I’m a s’more-tini guy.”