by Marina Adair
If one guy could make sipping a s’more-tini masculine, it was no doubt Ty. The man oozed enough alpha vibes to have a grizzly scurrying for cover.
“Me either, but they’re supposed to be like dessert with a kick.” And she’d been waiting for the all clear from her doctor to try one.
“As tempting as troop moms and s’more-tinis sound, I’ll have to pass.” He looked at her pack again. “You got any climbing gear in that gypsy camp strapped to your back?”
Even though she waved a nonchalant hand and gave an impressive unfazed snort, her stomach knotted with unease. Not only was climbing equipment the one thing she hadn’t packed, but rock climbing sounded a bit extreme for a beginner. “The trail we’re taking doesn’t have any extreme inclines, so climbing gear isn’t necessary.”
“Really, I thought Canyon Ridge required it.”
He was calling her out. It was clear.
This was the point in the conversation where Avery should have conceded, admitted she was barely qualified for their scheduled hike. But he stood there looking so capable and smug, like an Olympic athlete and Thor all wrapped up in one delicious package, and she didn’t want the moment to stop.
“Canyon Ridge is one of our most difficult treks. Not for the faint of heart.” Or someone who’d had a semi-recent transplant. “It’s a class four with several near-vertical rocks. A strict skilled-climbers-only trail.”
His posture was relaxed and confident—so confident that she could scarcely breathe.
“Good thing I have a strong heart. And my skills? Well, let’s just say there isn’t anything I can’t handle,” he said and dropped his pack.
Avery knew he had some serious skills, skills she wouldn’t mind exploring more. As for being handled, she imagined his hands were more than capable. But since her heart was lodged securely in her throat—and swelling—she had a hard time getting excited. Because there, on the back of his pack, was a simple white-and-blue nylon patch that read SARTEC I. The Roman numeral one meant that when nature fought back and the end of the world was closing in on humanity, he was the one person she’d want on her side.
The SARTEC? Well, that meant she was screwed.
Not only had she kissed her first—and possibly now her last—client, she’d kissed a type-one search-and-rescue badass who was as elite as they came—and undoubtedly there for a surprise inspection. An inspection that if Avery screwed up could lead to single-handedly losing Sequoia Lake Lodge’s biggest account.
He pulled two harnesses out of his pack. “You ready to get vertical, angel?”
Normally, Ty would take one look at those panicked baby blues and go into rescue mode, assessing what needed to happen to pull her through this situation happy and unscathed. But he wasn’t here to rescue a wannabe wilderness hottie, no matter how adorable her pigtails were. Sadly, he wasn’t here to get laid either.
No, Ty had walked away from his team at the height of flood season to rescue his family’s lodge. To figure out what was really going on and see how bad things had become. He needed to see firsthand how dire the situation was, so he could determine the best course of action. There was no room for distractions.
Ty took in her jeans that were more fashion than function, her ridiculously bulky vest that only served to hide all of those sweet curves, and her just-out-of-the-box boots. “Unless, of course, I need to reschedule for when Brody gets back.”
Panic flashed in her pretty eyes, and for a moment he thought she was going to back out. Only her stubborn side seemed to outweigh the smart one at that moment.
“What? No, of course not. Here at Sequoia Lake Lodge we pride ourselves on providing extreme adventures while adhering to the strictest safety guidelines.”
He looked at her pack again and almost laughed. “Prepared for anything, I take it?”
“A good adventure guide always is.” He wanted to argue that she wouldn’t know the first thing about being a guide, but then she smiled, sweet and determined, and he decided to let her hang herself. “Give me a second to run and grab some supplies more suited to your adventure.”
“You might want to swap out your boots too.”
She looked down, her face a sign that she didn’t see anything wrong with her boots. But to her credit she said, “Right,” then started to turn around. “And, uh, would it be unprofessional if I asked you to look down my shirt?”
Ty let out a startled laugh. Avery Adams might be the worst adventure guide in the area, but she was damn refreshing. “Is that a part of the experience?”
Her face flushed. “Not normally, but I think I have a stowaway, and he’s sinking his little fangs into my neck.”
“Normally I’d make you buy me dinner first, but since this is a special situation, I’ll make an exception.” He gave a quick twirl of the finger. “Turn around and drop the pack.” She did and it landed with a thump.
What did she have in there? Bricks?
Tackling the most immediate problem first, he pushed her braids to the side, exposing the creamy length of her neck. His chilled fingers slid down her skin and she gave a little shiver, from the contact or the spider he couldn’t tell, but her breath hitched.
He spotted the pokey hitchhiker. “Found him. Hope you aren’t afraid of spiders.”
“Nope.” She slammed her eyes shut. “Nothing much scares me. I just don’t think it’s fair he should get to tag along for free when you’ve paid for the trip.”
“Uh-huh,” he mused. “Then you’ll be happy to know it wasn’t Mr. Fangs.”
She whipped her head around, and bam, he felt a jolt of awareness. “It wasn’t Mr. Fangs?”
“Nope.” He detached it from her bra strap—her black lacy bra strap—and held it up for her to see. “A blood-sucking pine needle.”
The look of relief on her face was almost as amusing as watching her try to haul her pack back down the trail toward the lodge. To her credit, she made it back in record time, same boots with a little mud smeared on them for effect, and a few more things added to her pack.
Not less as he’d hoped. But that didn’t stop her momentum—or determination. Nope, Dora the Explorer set off up that steep mountainside as if she were a woman on a mission. It was as impressive as it was frustrating.
Twice she slipped, and twice he was convinced she was finally going to admit she wasn’t skilled enough to lead this trek. Both times she caught herself, until they were staring down Canyon Ridge, a hundred feet of near-vertical granite face that was jagged, unforgiving, and damn scary for someone who had lost a fight with a carabiner a few short days ago.
“Need help?” Ty asked as Avery stared over the cliff to the basin below.
He was geared up, clipped in, with his pack attached to the end of the rope, ready to be lowered to the platform below.
“Nope, I’m good,” Avery said, and even though her harness was on and she’d clipped in, her rope wasn’t routed properly.
“Either you’re so good that rappelling down in a near free fall is your style, or you might want to check your ATC.”
At least she looked at the rappelling device, proving she knew what it was. Then she blew her lead by looking back at him as though she hadn’t a clue as to what was wrong. He offered her another out. “Or we can pass, hike a little east of here, and take Poppy Alley back to the lodge.”
The safety-conscious part of Ty that made him the best at what he did prayed that she’d take it. But the risk taker who had a thing for pushing the limits—and apparently determined women—hoped that she’d plunge ahead.
To his surprise and horror, she actually smiled. It was equal parts nerves and excitement—and man was it a turn-on. “And miss the wind rushing beneath my wings? Or uh, my body. No way.”
She undid her rope, then rethreaded it the exact same wrong way. “How long have you been in search and rescue?”
“What gave me away?” he asked as he reached for her ATC.
“I knew when I met you the other night that you were a serious
wilderness guy, but the badge on your pack clued me in.” She looked down as he began to pull out her rope. “What are you doing?”
“Teaching you a new way to tie off,” he said, ignoring her hands trying to bat his away.
“My way works fine,” she announced. “In fact, it’s the preferred method according the lodge’s safety handbook.”
“What, from 1976?” He snorted. “Think of it this way—it will give you a new-and-improved method to impress your next client with.”
Smart girl, she gave in. “I do love learning new skills.”
He tugged her harness to get a closer hold on her rope, only he tugged a little hard. She stumbled forward and right into his arms, giving him a glorious view of those lips, which just a few nights ago had given him quite the ride.
He heard her breath catch, and he looked up higher—into those piercing lake-blue eyes—and realized he wasn’t the only one remembering that kiss. He also wasn’t alone in wanting to revisit that night.
She swayed closer, and he got a good whiff of her perfume, which was fresh and airy. Sexy without trying—just like her.
Jesus. He focused on her harness and away from those lush lips. What the hell had gotten into him? It was a kiss. A single, mind-blowing kiss. But nothing to wax poetic over. And so what if she was sexy? There were lots of sexy women.
Sexy women who weren’t trying to kill him by tackling a cliff.
“The key to wilderness safety is continuous education and always refining your skills,” Avery said.
“Where did you read that? In some kind of self-help book?” he asked while refeeding the rope through the ATC correctly. Because the first rule to wilderness safety was always be prepared, and the only thing this woman was prepared for was a picnic by the lake.
“No.”
“Well, you sure as hell didn’t read it in that book that told you how to feed your ATC,” he said, securing her rope with a prusik, and then, in case she was so stubborn she wanted to go through with the descent, he clipped his safety rope to her harness.
He was willing to see how far she’d go to hang herself, but he wouldn’t let her get hurt.
“Education comes in many forms,” she said primly.
He looked her in the eye. “And do you have any practical form of education?”
Well shit, she hesitated. Long enough to have Ty wondering if she’d ever even been on a hike. There was no way Dale, with all of his strict rules and iron-fist views, would have hired a guide like Avery. Not unless things were worse than Ty realized.
Yup, this was the moment he needed to call bullshit on her little charade. Except they weren’t rappelling quite yet, and there was something about the way she wholeheartedly threw herself into this role, determined to see it through, that intrigued him. Just like there was something about the way her eyes sparkled with life, even though he could see the faint smudges of exhaustion beneath that had him wanting to protect her.
“Have you ever rappelled down a hundred-foot wall?” When she opened her mouth, he clarified, “In real life?”
She shut it, then shook her head.
“At least tell me you aren’t afraid of heights?”
She clasped her hands in front of her as if she were sitting in church talking to Pastor Ryan. “Why would I bring us all the way up here if I were afraid of heights?”
“Good question.” One he noticed she didn’t answer. “Look down.”
“What?”
He crossed his arms. “Look down without cringing. If heights aren’t an issue, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“And miss that view?” She waved her hand to encompass the miles of snowcapped mountains blanketed with evergreen pines that circled Sequoia Lake. “Nah. A good adventure guide always focuses on the climb ahead”—this time she pointed to the crystal-blue waters of Sequoia Lake—“assessing and picturing his or her next move.”
“You sound like the old handbook they keep in the lodge office.”
When she smiled coyly, Ty dropped his hands and looked up at the sky for divine intervention. Because if this was a sign of how lax management had become, that was the only way he could possibly get the lodge ready to pass an inspection in a few weeks.
“You’re afraid of heights yet were planning to take a client over Canyon Ridge. What were you thinking?”
She took a big breath and slowly let it out. “That I was taking a client out on a beginner hike.”
She had him there. Ty knew at first glance Avery wasn’t qualified for this trek. He could have ended it at any moment. But he’d wanted to see how far she’d take it. And—this was where he started questioning his judgment—he wanted to spend some more time with the woman who’d made regular appearances in his fantasies as of late.
Even worse, he’d wanted to impress her. Now here they were about to go over the edge of a gnarly cliff with a rope tied like she was going out for her slipknot badge.
“I know I misled you,” she went on. “But I didn’t want the lodge to lose the booking, and I had no idea I’d get a secret shopper.”
“Secret shopper?” Cute and crazy—tempting combo.
“Yes, and my boss has been so busy getting ready for your inspection that when Brody got hurt, I told him I’d handle it. And he trusted me to handle it, which is normally a completely reasonable thing to do, but I wanted to prove to him that I could handle being a guide, so I took the booking. Myself. Without his knowledge.”
“Not knowing who’s on the mountain and what’s happening with employees is a huge liability.” How ironic that he was repeating what his dad had told him years ago. “Not knowing you’re taking out clients is almost worse than him hiring an unqualified guide.”
He watched her throat work, could see the genuine apology—and concern—in her expression. “Dale didn’t hire me, his wife did,” she admitted. “And I’m not a guide, I’m a coordinator. A fancy office manager, really. Dale was clear that I would not be allowed to take out clients until I was trained.”
“Yet here we are,” he said.
“I know, I went against his wishes, and he’ll probably fire me, but he wasn’t a part of this. But it was a beginner hike. I thought a little old lady wanted to see the new blooms, and I figured how hard can it be. Then you showed up all handsome and rugged, flashing those type-one biceps and changing the route, and, well, I didn’t want to mess this up.” She let out a wistful sigh that did something strange to Ty’s chest. “As you can see, I am fully responsible for my actions, so please don’t fail Dale on another inspection.”
Pretty and loyal. An interesting combination. Almost as interesting as her thinking he was there in an official capacity, which meant she had no clue that he was Dale’s son. She’d kissed him without knowing he was the sole heir to the crumbling empire. Oh, the irony kept growing.
Avery swayed back and forth, her hand visibly shaking. She was ready for the worst, ready for him to throw down the ruling that would ruin the lodge.
“Why didn’t you just tell me that when I asked for the Canyon Ridge package?” Maybe she wanted to impress him, or spend more time with him, or go in for a second kiss.
“The client is always right.”
Or that.
“Seriously? That’s your answer? The client is always right? Well, they’re not right if they get you killed. And believe me, I have seen the results of weekend warriors who think they’re invincible. It’s not pretty.”
“You’re too capable to get me killed,” she said with a smile.
“Even pros can get people killed.” Something he knew firsthand.
“I know,” she said gently. “So what are you going to do?”
Ty had not a clue. He wanted to wring her neck, and then he wanted to wring his dad’s. What he didn’t want to do was think about how this could have turned out. About what could have happened to Avery if he hadn’t been the one to pull this trek.
Some other guy would have taken one look at that sweet body and even sweeter smile and
said, “Let’s jump.” And she would have jumped and—
Shit. Ty let out a breath, trying to quell the giant knot making a pretzel in his stomach. When that didn’t work, he leveled her with a glare to let her know how serious he was—how serious the situation was. And how seriously pissed he was that she’d complicated an already complicated matter.
Avery was not qualified to work in the field, a fact his father would agree with—had they not had it out over the condition of the lodge. Ty had been blunt, Dale had been defensive, and both were chased out of the kitchen without dessert. No, Ty was going to have to handle Dora the Explorer all on his own. Which created problems of its own.
First, he could see how things had snowballed out of control and that she’d only wanted to make the lodge look good. Second, it was clear how much she wanted to be an adventure guide. Third, and most importantly, he knew that she tasted like spring water and salvation.
Jesus, his guys would give him so much shit if they heard that Kingfisher, a title he’d earned for his ability to calm the wind and the waves at will, was going menstrual over some chick he’d just met. Yes, he admired her zest for life, and her fascination for pushing the limits was a total turn-on. But he knew all too well what could happen when one pushed too far.
“Ty, I know you’re really mad. And I know that you want me to know how mad you are.” She scooted closer, and had it not been for all of the layers of sweaters and vests, they would have been touching. “But if intimidation is your goal, you might want to stop that.” She waved a hand at his face.
“Stop what?”
“Looking at me like that. It’s really misleading.”
“I’m the one who’s being misleading?”
“Well, you sound all angry bear, like you’re contemplating tearing my head off, but then you’re looking at me all . . .” There went her hand again.
“All what?” To be sure he got his point across he furrowed his brow.
“All warm and gooey, like you want me to kiss you again, but you’re not happy about it.”
He wasn’t happy about any of this—the way his heart was racing, how one smile lit him up, and he especially wasn’t happy that she was right. Something that must have shown on his face because the corner of her lips tilted into a smile that was all sunshine and forgiveness, and damn, Ty wanted to take a taste.