Page 24 of Extreme Romancing in Idaho

“Ow.” He groaned and rubbed his chin. “Do I need to remind you of condition number one?”

“Stop. It was an accident.” I walked close to him. “Here, let me see.”

Removing my gloves and tossing them to the ground, I pulled his hand away to get a better look. The point of impact was already swollen and red. Instinctively, I ran my fingers along the injury, but it wasn’t until he locked his eyes on mine that I remembered he wasn’t Papa or a patient.

Laid bare for me in his deep-brown eyes was a yearning like I’d never seen before. His scalding gaze told me he wanted to kiss me … to do more than kiss me, which didn’t make sense. He made it clear he disliked me, and I found him repugnant.

Yet, more than anything, I wished for the courage to tilt my lips toward his and give him a taste of what he wanted. But just as gravity couldn’t be ignored, neither could reality. He did this to countless women. He probably trained in a collegiate school for womanizers. I wouldn’t be another hashmark on his list of conquests. Besides he couldn’t be interested in me with my ample love handles and the confidence issues that came with them. Yes, I loved my body and all that, but the love I had for myself wouldn’t change what others thought about me with barely concealed judgment. The taunts from my high school days still haunted me.

He cleared his throat. I took a couple of quick steps away from him, and the look in his eyes disappeared. “I’m thinking of terminating our agreement.”

Panic raced through me. I couldn’t do this without him. Not with Dan’s FaceTime call looming. Remi’s lips quirked into a half-smile, and I scowled, hating he saw exactly how much I needed him.

“Promise not to hurt me anymore?” His smile grew across his face.

“Promise not to sneak up on me anymore, you creeper?”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“And I don’t want to do that again.” I pointed to the tip of the telephone pole.

“The first leap is always the hardest.” He waved his gloved hands in a wide arc. “You can do anything now … and we have the whole course to get through before sundown.”

Mr. Redhead Testicles-have-barely-dropped came up behind us and pointed to the next obstacle where another college student looped a rope through her harness. “Let’s try the next one. Both of you have to do it.”

“I think I’ve had enough for one day.” I picked up my gloves and moved to hand them to the college kid.

“I thought you’d give up this easy. I made a bet with Myles.” Remi untied his rope and looked up at me through his too-damn-long lashes.

I ground my teeth. He had me in checkmate. Without a word, I tugged the knot free on my harness and stomped to the next high adventure course. Two wires stretched around seventy to one hundred feet in the air like a V while the college kid explained what we were supposed to do. Apparently, we had to interlock our hands and lean against each other from the narrow part of the V to the wide end. Like some extreme trust exercise.

With the comfort of the ground under my feet, my legs shook as I looked up. I didn’t want to climb a pole ever again, but Remi gestured to the obstacle as if he were saying, “After you.” I didn’t have any other option. I couldn’t let him win, so I started climbing.

Instead of me handing him a list of chores, he was shoving a whole gallon of impossible things at me. But I’d started this, and I wouldn’t back down.

Sooner than I knew it, I was on the top, standing on the platform facing Remi.

“Relax. Trust your harness. Trust in your safety net. Trust me,” Remi said.

Trust him, my ass. My face must have reflected the turmoil I’d tried to keep hidden. Remi’s gaze met my eyes, and I calmed a little—until I looked down again. I gripped the rope tethered to me and took short breaths.

“That’s easy for you to say, Mr. I-jump-off-bridges-for-fun. I’m afraid of heights. Like epically.” My legs wobbled as I teetered on the platform.

Remi maneuvered closer to me and took one of my hands in his, cupping them together as the instructor had demonstrated. Oddly, my world became more secure now that I was connected to Remi’s sturdy form. He wasn’t shaking or wobbling or showing any signs of fear. He was stalwart and confident, and I wanted to be more like him, at least when it came to sports.

“It helps if you breathe in your nose and out your mouth.” He smiled at me and squeezed my fingers.

I did as he instructed, almost feeling like the moms I helped coach through labor—even though I’d never been through childbirth. All the training videos had the hee-hee-hoo breathing pattern, but I’d probably pass out if I started breathing like that up here.

Remi took my other hand, easing my grip from the rope one finger at a time. Brief panic encased me as my pinky slid from the rope and into his solid grip, but then it was replaced by something else. His grip became more reliable than the rope and certainly warmer. Though we both had gloves on, the contact between our hands transferred heat from the tips of my fingers to blossom in my cheeks. I forgot about the ground and the smallness of the wire and focused on our connection—on Remi.

The guides yelled something from beneath us, but I didn’t hear it. They sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher on the phone—wah wah waw ah.

“You’re going to have to lean fully on me to get through this.” When Remi spoke, the timbre of his voice bound me to this world.

I nodded even as my chest shook with every breath I took. Carefully, slowly, I shuffled both of my feet onto the wire, letting go of Remi’s gaze to find my footing.

“Good job. Now focus on me, nothing else. One step at a time.”

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