Grabbing some belts, harnesses, and two pairs of spikes, he tossed the equipment over his shoulder and led her to the tree they’d use. “Here it is.”
She looked up and squinted into the sun. The tree had been trimmed just for climbing, so there weren’t any branches. “There’s no way I’m making it to the top.”
“Bet you can get halfway there.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right. You can climb this?”
“Sure. Want to see me do it first?”
She nodded. He dropped the equipment on the ground and sat on a stump. His foot slid into the spiked brace and he tightened the strap around his calf.
“What are they?”
“These are my spikes. They’re essential. They need to be tight and sharp or else you could really mess yourself up.”
She watched as he tightened the spikes and stepped into his harness. After lacing the rope through each clamp, he tugged to check that all his knots were secure.
“What’s that?”
He lifted his rope. “This is your standard steel cord lanyard. It’s a bit stiffer than rope, so it’s easier to shimmy with.” He latched it to his belt and faced the trunk. The lanyard swung around the girth of the tree and he caught it, locking the other end to his harness.
“So once you’re all locked in, you lift it.” The rope flipped up. “It’s rigid, so it moves fairly easy.”
She crept closer to see what he was doing. He dug his spikes into the tree and leaned away from the bark, trusting his harness to hold his weight.
“Is it hard to get your spikes to stick?” she asked.
“You gotta put some force into it, but you’ll be able to do it. There are grooves from other climbers to guide you. You want to lean away from the tree. If you’re too close it makes it difficult. Keep your legs straight and your spikes at an angle so they don’t slip. Hand me that helmet.”
She handed him a helmet and he latched it tight. His safety glasses covered his eyes and he tightened his gloves. “So basically, you flick your lanyard.”
“The rope?”
“Right.” He flicked it up a few feet. “Then you move up a few steps like this. Lean forward, flick, step.” The spikes punctured the bark with a metal click at every step. “It’s the same coming down as going up, but you want to take it slow, smaller steps.”
“How high can you go?”
Squinting at the sky he said, “I’ve been to the top.”
“Wow.”
He climbed down about ten feet, showing her how it worked. “Wanna try?”
She nodded. He shimmied down the rest of the way. His boots landed in the dirt with a metal clank.
“Let’s get you into your harness first, then I’ll help you with your spurs.”
She went over to the pile of equipment and folded her arms. “Which one’s the harness? There are a lot of them.”
He scooped up what she needed. “This part latches around your waist.” He waited for her to make some snide, bullshit comment about her body, but when she didn’t he was glad.
She stepped close as he buckled the belt around her. She was buried beneath the fabric of her shirt. “Your shirts too big. Here, come closer. You want it tight, but comfortable enough to breathe.”
His fingers brushed over her clothing. Their breath mingled as he fit the harness around her. “Next we snap the leg harnesses.” She passively stood as his adjusted the belts around her thighs. He had to tighten them quite a bit to fit her. “Sit down and I’ll help you with your spurs.”
She lowered herself to the stump and he laughed. She frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s obviously something. Am I doing something wrong?”
“No. I was laughing at your little feet.” He fit her sneaker into the spurs and tightened the lock around her calf. “How’s that feel?”
“Tight.”
“Too tight?”
She wiggled her foot. “No. It sort of feels like I’m wearing skis.”
He latched the other one and helped her up. “You ready?”
Glancing up at the sky, she sighed. “As I’ll ever be.”
“Good. Put these on.” He tossed her a helmet, glasses, and gloves. She looked adorable. His type of woman. Without thinking, he reached into his pocket, and withdrew his phone.
“Did you just take my picture?”
“Maybe.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “You look all cute. Philly gone mountain. I dig it.”
She growled. “I probably look like a trussed up—” she stopped when she caught his warning glance. “Whatever. I’ll delete it when you’re not looking.”
He dropped the phone into his pants. “Gonna have to search me for it.”
“Jerk.”
“Come on.” His hand slapped the top of her hardhat and he picked up the other lanyard. She faced the trunk and he latched it to her belt, double checking all the knots and clips. “Now swing this around and try to catch it in your other hand, just like I showed you.”
Her arm cast the rope out and it clattered to the ground. She growled and pulled it back in. The second time she tossed it a little harder, but it went in the wrong direction. She pulled it in again. Her third try wasn’t much better. She growled in frustration.
“Come on, really swing it.”
She tried again and the cord whipped against the bark and fell to the ground. “I can’t do it.”
“Sure you can. You gotta really want it. Throw it again and this time put some stank on it.”
She bared her teeth and swung. This time was much better, but her little arms couldn’t seem to catch it. “I’m really climbing my ass off. This sucks,” she said sarcastically.
* * * *
She wanted to climb the damn tree, but the stupid rope thing wouldn’t work. She tried again and grit her teeth. This time when the lanyard came around the clip hit her in the knuckle. “Ouch!”
“Let me help you.”
Her spine stiffened as the heat from Finn’s body seeped into her back. His breath tickled her neck as his hand slid over hers and removed the clip from her grip.
The press of his hips was a huge distraction. Her skin was hot under her long sleeves and he only seemed to make her warmer.
“The trick is,” he said, whispering in her ear and sending chills down her back. “To thrust hard and know exactly what angle will make it come.”
What did he just say? Get your mind out of the gutter and focus. He cast out the lanyard and his body pressed firmly into hers as he caught it in his other hand. He chuckled and latched it to her belt with a tug.
“There.”
She didn’t breathe until he stepped away. Her hands curled over the rope, playing with its weight.
“Now dig your spike in over that root.”
She lifted her leg and kicked her foot down. The spurs were heavy, but punctured the bark with more ease than she suspected they would. She did the same with her other foot. Finn was behind her once more, this time adjusting the slack in the rope.
“Lean into me. You won’t fall.”
As she eased back her legs stretched and her arms bore a great deal of her weight.
“Keep your legs straight, so you don’t slip. Good. Now pull in and flick the rope up. Now step.”
She followed his instructions and took her first step. It was a full body workout. Her arms remained tense and her legs rigid. Every step was an effort, as she had to pack enough force to puncture the trunk. After a few steps she was already shaking from exertion and getting tired. When she glanced down she was disappointed to see her body was only about six feet from the ground.
Her head tilted as she tried to see the top of the tree. No wonder he was ripped. This was insane.
“You giving up on me, Philly?”
“No.” Her grip tightened as she gave the rope a flick. She traveled several more feet into the air and paused to catch her breath. Finn was shrinking with every flick and step. She wa
s about twelve feet off the ground. Her belly swirled as she considered falling from that height. “Are these ropes going to hold?”
“You’re fine. Do you want to come down?”
Every time he gave her the option of quitting she took another step. She could do this. Her gaze assessed the towering trunk and she grit her teeth. Flick, step, step. Flick, step, step.
Sweat trickled from her brow, as she found her rhythm. Her body trembled, as she held on tightly. Her thighs and calves throbbed the higher she went, and her arms were slowly growing weak. Even her core muscles were feeling it.
Finn whistled. “Hey, Philly, you’re getting pretty high. Don’t forget you have to save some strength to get back down.”
She peeked beneath her arm and cursed. She was really far from the ground. Her heart raced as a sort of paralysis set in. “How do I get down again?”
“Same as you got up, just smaller steps and shorter flicks.”
Her lips blew out a tight breath. Tightening her grip, she flicked the rope downward. “Shit!” The slack put more pressure on her muscles and she shook, terrified she was going to fall. It was like pulling her leg from drying cement, forcing her foot to step down.
“You all right?” he yelled.
“Yeah,” she shouted back. Then in a smaller voice she mumbled, “I hope.”
The rope flicked again and down she stepped. Climbing was work, but at least it was fun work. This going down stuff was for the birds. It felt like days before she reached a height she was comfortable with. Once she knew she was a distance from the ground that wouldn’t kill her if she fell, her steps became more confident.
When she finally reached the base of the tree Finn caught her hips. “You made it!”
She was out of breath and trembling. “Barely.”
He laughed and pressed a kiss to her neck. She drew back, knowing sweat covered her skin. His fingers undid the clip and she stepped off the tree. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s crazy that you do that every day. I’m not going to be able to move tomorrow.”
“Told you it was a good workout.”
She practically wept when he undid her spurs and harness. Collapsing back on the stump she let out a deep breath. Finn loaded up the gear in the truck and she could barely move.
“Uh-oh, we got a piper down.”
She gave him the finger and even that took too much work. “How many calories does tree climbing burn?”
“I have no idea. Come on.” He held out a hand and she gripped it weakly.
“You’re worse than a personal trainer. Stop making me move,” she whined, hoisting herself to her feet. Her knees jiggled like pudding.
“How you ever gonna run those Rocky steps with that sort of attitude, Philly? Where did my tough girl go?”
“You killed her.”
He laughed and they walked back to the truck. “What do you want to do now?” he asked as he held her door.
“Nap. Some crazy Irish guy woke me up way too early and made me climb trees all morning.”
“Can I come?”
She stilled. Where? To nap with her? “Um…I need a shower.” The side of his mouth kicked up and she snapped, “You aren’t invited to shower. A nap, I can tolerate.”
He kissed her, a quick peck on the lips. “You’re no fun.”
Chapter Nine
There was something wrong with her lungs. They needed more air than usual and Mallory couldn’t seem to draw in a full breath. The entire ride home she stared out the window, afraid to look to her left. The truck filled with their mixed scents, the autumn breeze laced with fresh air, and the fragrance of exertion. The only way to describe it was heady.
When they returned to her place, Finn plopped on the couch as usual and she stumbled into the kitchen, mumbling some excuse, as she fled to the bathroom. Currently, she stood under the warm flow of rushing water doing nothing.
Her vision kept returning to her razor, each time zooming in with rapid succession like some horror flick. She should shave, but if she shaved she wouldn’t have an excuse to stop him. If she left her legs prickly that would be the brake light she needed.
Her gaze did the crazy zoom thing on the razor again. This time she swore she heard some Beethoven type build in her head too. “Crap.”
She grabbed the razor and lathered her legs with her peach scented shaving gel. Ten minutes later, the water had dwindled from steaming hot to tepid and she’d managed to shave places she’d never shaved before. For some strange reason she associated Finn with smooth skin. Well, she had a lot of skin. Maybe if it were super smooth he wouldn’t notice the way it rolled and sagged in all the wrong places.
Frustrated, she flung the razor into the corner and rinsed off. After shutting the water off, she grabbed her towel and stood before the fogged up mirror. She didn’t need a reflection to know what she looked like, but as she saw herself her mood fell to devastatingly low places that she usually tried not to venture.
What was she doing? She was smarter than this. If she continued to let Finn kiss her he’d eventually want to touch her beneath her clothes. And then there would be that awful moment when he paused, only for a split second, but it would be enough for her to know he stumbled across the disgusting reality that was her body.
Her lips thinned as her throat pinched with the need to cry. She wouldn’t cry, however, because crying over skin was stupid. All of her life she’d dieted and all of her life she’d continued to gain weight. It wasn’t fair that six months of denying herself would result in a loss of fifteen pounds, but two months of falling off the wagon would pack on twenty. That was her track record, down ten, up fifteen, down twenty, up thirty.
Sometimes she wondered if she would choose contentment with her physique over actual skinniness. She was so screwed up. She knew she was pretty, but society had done such a number on her she felt permanently broken inside. If she lost all the weight that burdened her, would she just be one of those thin people who still hated themselves?
Very aware that she was entering a dark place of self-loathing with Finn sitting on the other side of the door waiting, she tried to pick herself up. She hadn’t gotten this way in a day, a month, or a year. It was unrealistic to think she could get herself back to a healthy weight in such short increments of time as well.
The horrible thing was, no matter how healthy her body became, her mind was not healthy at all. She wished, just for a day, she could know what if felt like to exist without the pain of low self-esteem.
Her hand squeaked over the glass as she wiped down the mirror. Her eyes darted to the lock on the bathroom door. She sucked in a breath and dropped the towel.
Her brow crumpled and her shoulders sagged. She hated her reflection. Her breasts hung heavy. Her stomach made a pouch of flab. There was probably a six-pack under there somewhere from all the sit-ups she’d been doing, but who would ever know? Her hips were thick and her thighs were way too full. Dimples showed where smoothness should have been. Then there were those horrid little jagged white scars, marks from her skin stretching.
Shutting her eyes, she tried to block out the image, but it was no use. She knew it by heart. She thought about Finn. He was so tall and broad and tan. He had cut arms and those hands…he probably looked like a chiseled statue of a Greek god naked, while she was built like a dowdy milkmaid.
Everything seemed so suddenly hopeless she wanted to sneak out of the apartment and go stuff her face with ice cream until the pain faded.
The steam in the bathroom dissipated and her hair started to kink and air dry. She’d been in there a long time, probably almost an hour. Taking a courageous breath that was mostly hot air, she tied her robe and unlocked the door. Shaved or not, he wasn’t touching her.
The bathroom door creaked quietly and she crept out. Finn was slouched on the couch, sound asleep. She tiptoed past him and shut herself in her room where she dressed in cotton pants and an old T-shirt.
Emotionally whipped, she climbed i
nto bed and shut her eyes. No tears would fall, because self-pity was worthless. Maybe when she woke up he’d be gone.
Her self-deprecating thoughts slowed and her mind drifted in and out of dreams. She was in that foggy place where the brain was still awake, but the body was starting to fall asleep when she heard him enter the room.
Pretend you’re still asleep.
She barely breathed, as she waited for him to say something. Completely aware that he was watching, she mentally curled into a ball, but her physical body didn’t move a muscle. When the bed dipped she stopped breathing completely.
Covers were lifted and his body suddenly warmed her back, as he curled behind her into the bed. He must have thought she was asleep, because he didn’t say a word. Something in her softened as he filled the space at her back.
He was warm and strong and so much better than her. She’d never measure up. It was only a matter of time before he realized the truth and she was out a good friend.
The weight of his palm settled on her hip and she prayed he didn’t move. At least her hip had a bone to keep it semi-firm. Two inches up and he’d hit the land of blubber. Two inches down and he’d find himself in Beyoncé’s nightmare.
A soft sigh filled the room. It was a masculine sound of contentment and she blinked into the dim shadows. How did he sound so content? Didn’t he see and feel what he was touching?
Her body grew stiff the longer she lay there. Finn likely drifted off to sleep, but she wasn’t sure. A piece of hair kept tickling her nose and she wanted to bat it away, but was too terrified of moving and waking him. She’d wait ten more minutes then slip out of bed and find something else to do.
Five minutes later her eyes were growing heavy. Finn’s arm weighed over her side and, although they hadn’t moved, he seemed to be holding her tighter. If she could forget about the shape of her body, she could almost fall asleep.
Wake up!
Her lashes fluttered open only to droop once more. Don’t go to sleep!
No matter how much she commanded her body to remain awake she was losing the battle. She must have made it about eight minutes before she surrendered and let go. Her thoughts fell away and she sagged into the mattress, into Finn’s hold. Cozy peace carried her away to a land of slumber and she slept like she had as a child.