Every step had her mind flipping from one daunting thought to another. Her feet were dead weights that took effort to drag forward.
Holly could barely breathe by the time she arrived at the rock-climbing warehouse.
There was a garden bed between the road where the cars were angle parked into the curb and the front windows of the gym. Holly slinked in behind the hedge and watched the activity inside the brightly lit facility.
There were about two dozen people working out. Several were at the far back corner and looked to be doing some kind of martial arts training. The remaining people were up the walls; each one was tethered by a rope to a partner who watched them from beneath.
She spied the owner of the gym immediately. Oliver Nelson. He looked exactly like he did on his website. His thick and wavy hair was an interesting sandy blond color, intermingled with hints of ginger. Oliver stood out from the crowd, not just because he was about six foot five, but because he seemed to have a commanding aura about him, like he’d earned respect from every person in that building.
He appeared to be genuinely concerned for the woman climbing above him. His eyes didn’t falter and occasionally Holly heard his words of encouragement. They were assertive yet kind. It reminded her of the dozens of doctors who’d assisted in her recovery. Yet every one of them had maintained a clinical distance… like getting too close would be trouble should she not achieve her goals.
Oliver, however, had an intense gaze that showed he was more than just casually invested in the climber’s success. He genuinely wanted her to succeed.
His physique was also a world apart from all the doctors who’d helped her. Oliver had broad shoulders and narrow hips, and she was mesmerized by the bulge of his biceps beneath the fabric of his black uniform each time he braced against the rope.
The music stopped, casting a pleasant silence over the gym. She heard laughter and watched the people at the rear of the gym gather their things from the back wall.
The climber above Oliver must’ve said something to him, because he changed his stance and adjusted the rope at his front, then gazed up at the climber again.
People began walking toward the exit, and with towels flung over their shoulders and faces flushed red they all looked exhausted. But despite their appearance, it was their smiles and lighthearted banter that captured Holly’s interest the most. Every one of them seemed happy. It had been years, but Holly understood that sense of euphoria that only a workout could provide.
Now, though, her heart was thundering for all the wrong reasons.
Chapter Seven
Oliver pulled on the rope, maintaining tension for the climber above, who stretched out with her right hand. Her fingers twitched as she attempted to lengthen her reach, but she was still an inch away. Oliver increased his tension, ready for the moment she leapt. But she didn’t. She gave up and pulled back. “You can do it, Larissa.”
“I can’t.” She yelled her fury.
“Yes, you can. Center your balance on your right foot. Engage your core and go for that pinch hold.”
“I can’t!”
They’d been neighbors most of their lives, so Oliver had seen the depth of Larissa’s hotheadedness many times. She was a fiery one. Which wasn’t surprising; he knew her parents well and it was a wonder she had a nice bone in her body. But she did, lots of lovely nice bones. And although she’d given him plenty of opportunities to jump those bones, he wouldn’t. Larissa was more like a sister than a love interest, and that’s the way it was going to stay. She was also a paying customer, and he’d never jeopardize that.
“Take a deep breath and get your butt up there.”
“Stop looking at my ass.” Larissa wriggled her hips for emphasis, but he ignored it.
“Stop talking and start concentrating.” Once, at a party, when he and Larissa had consumed a little too much alcohol, Oliver had made the mistake of kissing her. Thankfully he’d managed to pull up before it went too far. That kiss was a mistake he’d like to erase from his memory.
Larissa, however, had never let it go.
Oliver glanced at the other instructor to his right, who was belaying another rock climber. Robert was a good man. A little unreliable at times, but when he was at work, he gave it one hundred percent. Oliver learned the hard way that he couldn’t run this business on his own, and it’d been with reluctance that he admitted he had to share his measly profits with an employee. That was seven months ago, and the extra clients he’d been able to take on because of the additional pair of hands around the gym had made the investment worthwhile. So much so that he’d hired another two staff members since then.
The music that’d been pumping from the back of the gym cut off abruptly, casting a strange quiet over the converted warehouse. Moments later, the clients who’d finished the cycle class began strolling past. Oliver made a point of saying goodbye to each and every one of them. His clients were as important to him as their dollars, and he was determined not to lose either.
“Climbing,” Larissa called from thirty feet above.
She finally made the leap and Oliver readjusted the tension on the rope. “Good one. I told you you’d do it. Two more and you can smack that bell.”
Larissa squealed as she fell and Oliver squeezed the rope, halting her fall.
“Shit,” she bellowed as she dangled in wild circles above him.
As Oliver lowered her down to the padded mat, he prepared an encouragement speech in his mind. Once down, he touched her shoulder and she glanced up at him. The disappointment in her eyes was unmistakable.
“You did great. The highest you’ve ever been.”
“It’s not good enough, Olly. I should’ve made it to the top by now.” She clamped her teeth, bulging the muscle along her jaw.
“You’ll get there.”
Shaking her head, she unhooked the rope from her belay loop and stepped back. Larissa was already tough on herself, so Oliver didn’t need to say any more. The championships were four months away and she’d set her mind on winning this time. If there was one thing he knew about her, when Larissa set her mind to something, there was no changing it.
“Hey, Olly, you coming to Baxter’s after?” Patrick wiped sweat off his forehead as he strolled toward Oliver.
“Nah, man, I’m coaching Kurt’s baseball straight after this.”
Patrick tapped Oliver on the shoulder. “We’ll probably still be there when you’re done. Come by.”
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
“Your loss.”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “Tell me about it. You coming on Friday?”
“Of course, man. See you then.” As Patrick approached the exit, Oliver spied a woman standing to the side of the doorway. He hadn’t seen or heard her come in and waved in her direction. She inclined her head slightly as if acknowledging his attention, but didn’t move from her spot.
Larissa huffed as she stepped out of her leg loops and kicked them away. “I’m outta here.” She stormed off, scooping up her bag without pausing, and headed for the door.
“See you Friday.”
“Maybe,” she called over her shoulder, then she disappeared out the door.
The woman followed Larissa’s exit, then she turned and aimed her eyes back at Oliver. He’d never seen her before, and he prided himself on getting to know everyone, which in a town like Brambleton wasn’t hard.
He turned to Robert. “Hey, Rob, do you know who that is?”
“Who?”
Oliver nodded his head toward the door and Robert glanced that way, then shook his head. “Nope.”
Oliver finished looping Larissa’s belay rope and secured it to its designated hook on the wall. He unclipped his harness, hung it up, planted a smile on his face, and walked toward the woman.
She stepped back and lowered her eyes as he approached. Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath, then she straightened her shoulders before looking up at him.
“Hi, I’m Oliver. How can I help you?”
“I need to learn how to do that.” Her eyes indicated the rock-climbing wall.
Her assertive words were diminished by the quiver in her voice. Oliver’s gaze fell to the nasty scar on her cheek. He’d only seen a burn scar once before, and from what he’d heard they were painful. This one must’ve been agony. She blinked at him and loosened her dark hair from her ear so that it fell over her cheek. Oliver instantly hated that she’d noticed him looking.
He rubbed his hands together. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. We have classes six days a week.”
“I’d like private lessons.”
“Well, we don’t really—”
She cut him off. “I’m hoping you can make an exception.”
Her eyes were that of a wolf. Incredibly blue, and laced with something… determination, fearlessness, mistrust? Unable to pinpoint what he saw, he cast the curiosity aside and held his hand forward. “Like I said, Miss…”
She hesitated for the briefest of moments before she offered her hand. “Hol— Amber, my name’s Amber.”
He tried to catch her gaze but her eyes were aimed at the gym behind him. “It’s lovely to meet you, Amber. Like I said, we offer classes—”
“You don’t seem to understand. I want private lessons.” Her voice was level, assertive, yet laced with a quiver.
“Well, Amber, what we want and what we get aren’t always the same.”
“I’ll pay.”
Amber’s shifty eyes had him wondering what she was on. One of his oldest friends had fought drug demons a few years ago and Oliver had seen every one of its debilitating side effects.
“It’s not a case of—”
“One hundred dollars.”
He had no idea what she thought one hundred would buy her. His casual lesson rate was twenty-two dollars; equipment hire was an additional eleven dollars. It’d be cheaper again if she signed up for a monthly package. She seemed keen, though, and not being one to knock back money he decided on a different approach. “Would you like to come into my office?”
“Do we have a deal?” She pursed her lips and Oliver was certain the woman was a few screws short of a toolbox.
Deciding she’d be more trouble than she was worth, he shook his head. “No, as a matter of fact, we don’t have a deal. What exactly do you think one hundred dollars will buy you?”
Her eyes darted from him to behind him and back again. She looked confused. “A lesson,” she finally said.
His jaw dropped. “One lesson?”
“One private lesson,” she clarified with a nod.
“Hey, Olly, you coming to Baxter’s?” Neil eased next to Oliver and he turned to his customer.
“Not tonight. I’m coaching Kurt’s baseball.”
“Shit, man, it’s going to be a good one.”
Oliver rolled his eyes at his longest paying customer. “So I’ve heard.”
“Alright, buddy. See you tomorrow.”
“Sure thing.” Neil cast his eyes over Amber before he spun on his heel and headed out the door.
Oliver returned his gaze to her. She was clutching the shoulder strap on her bag like she feared it was about to be snatched. Her already small frame seemed to have shrunk even further and he had a terrible feeling the woman was petrified.
“Look.” He softened his stance. “I think we got off on a bad foot. How about you come into my office and we go over our packages.”
The knuckles on her right hand bulged as she squeezed her strap tighter. After a moment’s pause, she nodded.
“Okay, it’s right this way.” Oliver pointed toward the small room about a third of the way down the side of the warehouse and indicated for her to go first. When she didn’t move, he decided to lead the way. He could only assume she’d stepped in behind him.
When he’d bought this old warehouse three years ago, he’d transformed it into a customized indoor rock-climbing facility and fitness gym. Other than the outside walls, his tiny office was the only structure that was original. He’d spent nearly every penny he had on this establishment and had taken a gamble on its success. He had no competition, though, and this concept of exercise was new to Brambleton. Fortunately, he’d kept in touch with nearly every person he’d met in his thirty-one years and word spread fast. Neil was the first to pay for a lesson, and others quickly followed. Oliver considered himself a lucky man almost every single day.
“Hey, boss, you need me to stay and lock up?” Robert was at the back of the warehouse, walking toward the office.
“No, I’ve got it.” Oliver shook his head. “See you in the morning.”
“Great. See ya then.” Robert stepped into the office and three seconds later came out with a pack slung over one shoulder.
“Hi.” Oliver assumed Robert was talking to the woman he hoped was still behind him.
Amber spoke her first words since he’d tempted her away from the front door. “Hello.”
Oliver stepped through the office door, went around the other side of his desk, and remained standing. “Please, take a seat.”
She fiddled her hair over her cheek before she eased onto the chair and pulled her bag onto her lap. Every person that’d visited this office had been practically bursting with energy, except his brother. Dane was what Oliver called a sloth; he moved with methodical precision that drove Oliver crazy, and the most exercise he got was brushing his teeth. They were complete opposites, which was probably why they got along so well.
Amber looked around Oliver’s office, and although he liked to think of it as organized chaos, it was probably closer to chaos. He made a mental note to put some effort into cleaning it out. Truth was, the one and only other job he’d had kept him inside four walls. It was the last place he wanted to be.
Oliver plucked a brochure and a waiver from the rack on the wall. “So, Amber, what’s brought you to Upper Limits?”
“I already told you. I need to learn how to climb walls.”
He was a heartbeat off chuckling when he stopped himself. Her steely expression indicated she wasn’t joking, and the fact that she’d used the word “need” waved a red flag in his brain. Nobody needed to know how to rock climb. It was a passion, a desire, born from an urge to get fit and have fun doing it. Not because they needed it.
Shoving his curiosity aside, he unfolded the brochure to the four-page spread showing a panoramic photograph of his rock walls. “Then you’ve come to the right place. We have all stages of training, from beginner to expert.”
“I need to learn them all.”
Again, with the need? He frowned and cocked his head, trying to capture her gaze. “So, what’s your ultimate goal?”
Her haunting blue eyes seemed to pierce his brain. “What do you mean?”
“Well, is this for fitness, fun, to get social, or do you want to do competition stuff? What’s your motivation for coming in?”
She shifted her gaze, and Oliver had a weird feeling she was about to dart for the door. Sensing her uncertainty, he said, “Most people start it for fitness and take it from there.”
“Yes,” she said, but didn’t elaborate.
“Okay, well, I just need you to fill out this form and sign the waiver, then we can lock you in.”
“For private lessons.” She said it as a statement rather than a question.
“Look, Amber, I don’t—”
She pointed at the brochure. “Your lessons are twenty-two dollars. I’m willing to pay you four times that amount for private lessons.”
Her argument was a strong one. “But our lessons are group sessions, so I usually have four to six people in each group, therefore I’m making at least one hundred dollars per session.
Her intense gaze deepened. “Two hundred dollars.”
He blinked, hardly able to believe the offer. It was ludicrous, but mighty tempting.
“Three hundred dollars.”
“Oh jeez.” He held up his palms in a peace gesture. “Okay, sure… private lessons.”
&nbs
p; “For that price I want the building to myself. No other customers.”
“That’s a big ask. We’re open every night till seven, six days a week.”
“Then we’ll start at seven.”
“Look, Amber. This is my business, and I make the decisions around here.”
“If you’re not interested in my money, Mr. Nelson, then I’ll find someone who is.” Her voice was firm, but she strangled her fingers like she was wringing a rag.
Her use of his surname caught him off guard, though. It seemed Amber had done her research. He flicked his gaze from her lupine eyes to the scar on her cheek. He instantly regretted it when she angled her head to hide it.
It wasn’t all she was hiding. Amber seemed to have a whole bucket of mystery going on.
Oliver felt he was about to enter into something he’d completely regret, but the money was too good to refuse. Not only that, Amber had captured his interest. It’d been a very long time since anyone had done that. Especially a woman.
In a small town like Brambleton, it was an opportunity he wasn’t willing to blow.
“You strike a hard bargain, Amber.”
Her pale pink lips drew into a thin line and she simply nodded in response.
“Okay, so when do you want to start?”
“Now.”
He burst out laughing. “We’re not starting now, and that’s not negotiable. I coach my brother’s baseball team every Wednesday night.” He glanced at the simple round clock hanging over his business certificate. “It starts in thirty minutes.”
Her shoulders slumped and she seemed to stew on her response. “Tomorrow night.”
“Okay, tomorrow it is.”
She folded the brochure and collected the waiver form, shoving both into her bag and then she stood. “Mr. Nelson?”
“Please, call me Oliver.”
“Oliver, I need you to keep my patronage a secret.”
He frowned, and when her fingers wandered over the brutal scar on her cheek, he thought he saw fear in her eyes.
“Okay, my lips are sealed.” He made a twisting motion on his lips as a joke.
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