“Huh.” How had she not known this?
Levi cocked his head. “You know him?”
“He lives next door to the house I’m staying in. He’s a good guy.”
“The best,” Levi agreed. “And he cleared me for whatever I felt up to doing.” He grinned and she was momentarily stunned by all the sexy testosterone and pheromones.
“You are a menace,” she decided.
“And you’re here at the store. Either you missed me or you need something.”
As far as guesses went, it was fairly accurate. Not that she would admit it. He studied her. “Interesting.” His eyes were lit with good humor. “You’re here to agree to go to a family dinner as my girlfriend.”
“Fake girlfriend,” she said. “And . . .” She bit her lower lip. “Maybe.”
“I like the maybe.” He gestured to the wall. “Want to try?”
She opened her mouth to say he was delusional, but he raised a brow, his eyes filled with the unspoken dare. And damn if her competitive nature didn’t have her lifting her chin. “I’m not trained.”
“We’ve got an expert on staff.”
“Where?”
He smiled.
“You?”
He shrugged. “Seen a guy do it once or twice.”
She narrowed her eyes and he laughed. “Grew up climbing this wall. And every mountain peak around here. And did I mention there are Calk Walk cookies ’n’ cream cupcakes for people who climb?” he asked.
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re teasing me.”
“When I’m teasing you, you’ll know it.”
Okay, so there went the funny quiver low in her belly again. She pointed to the shortest of the three walls, the single-story one. “What are my chances of dying on that?”
“On average, there’s two point five accidents per ten thousand hours of mountaineering.”
“Two point five?” she asked in disbelief. “How do you get a point five fall? Do you half fall or what?”
He grinned at her. “It’s just a statistic.”
“But it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Neither does the bravest woman I’ve ever met turning down a simple challenge.”
The bravest woman he ever met was stunned. She’d never thought of herself as particularly courageous. In fact, she often felt the opposite. Running scared from connections, ties, roots . . .
Maybe it was time to stop running. She blew out a breath. “Any tips?”
“Don’t look down.”
She laughed and then tipped her head back to take a closer look at the wall. The highest one, where Levi had been, was actually inverted for the last ten feet, making her shudder in horror. The middle peak looked only slightly less intimidating, but the lowest one . . . there were two kids on it. How hard could it be? “Okay. But that one.”
He got her harnessed so quick that she knew that he knew she was a flight risk. “Safety first,” he quipped, using her words from the night of the blizzard.
She snorted. “‘Safety first’ is a bunch of crap you say only when you’re worried or a complete idiot.”
He smiled. “Do I look like either of those things?”
She had to admit he did not.
After a surprisingly professional rundown on what exactly she’d be doing and when, he added, “I’ll be climbing too and will be right beside you the whole time. Dusty will be belaying you. I promise you’re perfectly safe.”
She looked over at Dusty, who’d come back when Levi had gestured for him. “Look,” she said, “I’m sure you’re nice and all, but I’m not big on blind trust.”
“You already signed on for the blind trust program when you filled out the release form,” Dusty said.
“Um . . .”
Dusty flashed a grin.
“Not funny. If I fall—”
“You won’t,” Levi said. “Dusty will be right below you on the rope. He’s on the local search-and-rescue team and is the best of the best.”
Jane stared at Dusty. “I knew you looked familiar. You were there that night of the blizzard.”
Dusty’s smile faded and he nodded. “Yeah, and that was the closest you’re going to come to dying on my watch. You got your necklace back?”
She pulled it out from beneath the neckline of her sweater. “Yes. Thank you so much.”
“Don’t thank me, thank him,” Dusty said, nodding at Levi.
Levi’s gaze locked with and held on to hers.
“He said he’d do whatever he had to in order to get it back to you,” Dusty said. “You okay with heights?”
Jane jerked her gaze from Levi with some difficulty. She felt a little dizzy with the rapid subject change. Or maybe it was from realizing what a good guy Levi really was. “I’m better with heights than enclosed spaces.”
Dusty laughed softly in commiseration. “Say stop at any time, and we’ll get you down.”
She smiled her thanks and turned to Levi. “So I need a real live belayer, but you don’t?”
“Yes,” Levi said firmly.
Dusty nodded.
All righty then. She began to climb, with both men quietly, calmly offering helpful tips. As he’d promised, Levi was right at her side. Whenever she struggled to find the right hand- or foothold, he’d make a suggestion with a quick explanation, and though she wanted to say, “I do it!” like a toddler, she listened to what he was saying and began to understand—and get into—the rhythm.
Until she looked down to check her progress. Stupid, stupid move. The ground felt a mile away, and instantly her head spun and she thought she was going to throw up.
“Jane.”
She dropped her forehead to the rock, closed her eyes, and gulped in air. “Sorry, can’t talk right now, very busy having a panic attack.”
Levi curled an arm around her. “Breathe,” he said softly into her ear. “Just breathe for a minute.”
She opened her mouth to tell him she was already breathing, only to realize she actually wasn’t. Dammit. Her heart pounded in her ears and the muscles in her legs trembled. Logically, she knew she couldn’t fall, but mentally it was a whole other ball game.
“You’re doing great. And you’re safe, I promise.” He had an arm around her. “You can’t slip or fall. The rope has you. Dusty has you. And I’ve got you.”
I’ve got you . . .
And suddenly she was even more scared. Not at the idea of falling. Not of suddenly knowing that she was definitely going to agree to be his pretend girlfriend. Not even at the idea of spending an evening having dinner with his family—well, okay, so she was a little scared of that.
But what scared her most was the idea of him having her back.
When was the last time she could say that about a man? She couldn’t remember. Unable to help herself, she took another peek down and let out a wimpy whimper. “It’s like the blizzard all over again.”
“Except there’s no wind, no snow, and we’re not dangling seven hundred and fifty feet in the air.”
“Wait— Seven hundred and fifty? That night you told me we were at five hundred and fifty!”