Chapter 44
Chapter forty-four
Zac
Tabitha sat crisscrossed next to Zac where the ledge met the rock wall.
She nibbled slowly on a nutty granola bar he'd had in one of his cargo pants pockets.
She'd initially refused the snack he'd shoved at her, claiming they should save it for later.
She eventually caved when he pointed out how much activity she'd just put her body through.
Between the climbing, falling, down-climbing, and the rowdy sex that followed it all, the last thing they needed was for her to bonk.
Her one stipulation was that he eat the other half.
His growling stomach heartily agreed to the terms.
As soon as Zac gulped down his half, he pulled Tabitha's small day pack into his lap to take stock of what they had left.
His bag had gone sailing earlier when that rock fell.
Which meant the majority of their supplies was either stuck in a tree or many stories below them.
The food he packed, spare layers of clothing, his water, and—most troublingly—his radio.
Fortunately they'd split up the load that morning so they weren't completely fucked.
"All right," he said, scratching at his beard and blowing out a breath. "Looks like we have half a Nalgene of water, two energy gels, and a small bag of almonds. I'm not so worried about the food. We can go a long time without eating. But we'll have to take it easy with the water."
"How long do you think it'll take before we're found?" Tabitha asked.
"Our estimated return time would have been four.
We have a two-hour buffer policy. Meaning, if there is no contact with a guide and the main office by six they reach out to search and rescue.
If I still had my radio or my Inreach I could hit the SOS and they'd come running.
Unfortunately . . ." Zac shrugged and pointed to the ledge in explanation.
"Both are long gone," Tabitha finished for him, while remaining surprisingly calm.
"Exactly," he continued, pulling the rest of the contents from Tabitha's pack (the camera, sunscreen, lip balm, and a small bottle of hand sanitizer) and his pockets (a small first aid kit that housed one less condom, keys to the truck, and a spare hair tie).
A meager selection of items, but hopefully SAR wouldn't leave them hanging for too long.
"So we have some time to kill."
"Yep. I'm going to gather all our stuff so it's together when help comes," Zac explained as he replaced everything back into Tabitha's bag. "We still have a few hours of daylight but I'd rather handle it now."
“I’ll help.”
Zac wanted to tell her to sit and relax. That she’d taken a fall and been worked over and should get some rest. But he knew his tabby cat wouldn’t listen, so instead he said, “Thank you.”
Because they had so little with them, it didn’t take long to pack up everything.
No matter what they tried, the fallen rock wouldn’t budge.
The rope was toast. Still, Zac didn’t love not being able to pack it out.
Maybe it’d be a good warning to leave behind anyway.
Or maybe it'd be a marker to immortalize what had happened there that afternoon. Some kind of record of things.
Speaking of record.
“What do you say to a little impromptu photo shoot?” Zac asked, pulling out the camera once more.
Tabitha scowled at him, even as he pocketed the lens cap and lined up a shot. “Haven’t I been through enough trauma today?”
“Blondie would be livid if I didn’t capture what happened on this ledge.”
“She doesn’t need to see everything that happened here,” Tabitha groused.
“True,” Zac said thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t want to make her jealous.”
He laughed, unrealizing that a woman’s eyes could roll so aggressively.
“Only teasing, tabby cat.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she murmured, but offered a sexy little smile when he pulled her in for a forehead kiss. “Take your photos. But don’t get your hopes up that it’ll turn into some public boudoir bullshit. I’m a lady.”
She was so prim now that her clothes were back on. But Zac knew what lingered below the surface—raw sexuality. And he wasn’t going to share that with anyone. Call him greedy but you couldn’t call him a fool.
Zac adjusted the front of his pants as his brain played back what had happened that afternoon. Better find something else to focus on. He raised the camera and moved in close to Tabitha, but no matter the angle he couldn’t capture her full radiance. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.
“How long have you been with the magazine?” he asked to help her relax a little.
“I hit my ten-year last month,” she responded with some pride. But her eyes darkened as her shoulders slumped. Zac was desperate to learn what saddened her. Then he’d move heaven and earth to try to fix it.
But she wouldn’t let him. Tabitha was a determined woman. There was nothing she couldn’t accomplish, and if he tried to insert himself with a solution, she’d no doubt give him hell for trying.
“What’s that little scowl about?” Maybe it wasn’t his duty to fix it, but there wasn’t any harm in asking more questions.
“Nothing.” She forced a pleasant smile back on her lips.
“Come on. Out with it. Boss got you down? She sure ruined my afternoon yesterday.”
Tabitha’s chastising glare made him regret his comment. “Sorry, it’s true, but . . . I’ll drop it. I really want to know, though. Something is going on. What is it?”
She hesitated for a bit, chewing on her inner cheek to process those thoughts again. Patience was the key; had been sixteen years ago too.
“I love my job. Maybe not as much as I did when I first started but it’s familiar and comfortable and I know how to do it. For the most part it doesn’t feel like work.”
Zac nodded. “It’s a good feeling.”
“It is, but . . .” More hesitation. Zac didn’t dare move beyond snapping a few more pictures for fear of spooking her into clamming up again. “Before assigning me this article—with OtB—Claudia told me my work was slipping. That it wasn’t as believable as it was when I first started.”
“Is there any truth to her claim?” Zac knew the answer to that. When he’d pulled up old issues of Rock 'n' Ropes, the earlier articles outshined the newer ones by a mile. But he refused to fess up to doing the online stalker thing.
Tabitha fidgeted. He caught her nervous fiddles and wiggles with each snap of the shutter.
“Yes.” Her eyes glistened. But only for a second.
She brushed away the hint of moisture and squared her shoulders.
“Coming here was the first time I’ve climbed outdoors since .
. . well. In a very long time. The tone of my writing changed because I wasn’t an active participant in the adventures I wrote about. ”
“Why not?”
“I got hurt,” she stated matter-of-factly as though that would distance her from it.
“How?” Zac needed to know. He needed to find out what she’d hurt so he could cover it in kisses.
She sighed. Heavily.
Again with the patience. Zac remained behind the camera, taking photo after photo as her lovely features shifted to display a variety of emotions.
“I went climbing with a group of singles on my thirty-fifth birthday and I fell.”
The camera dropped. Thankfully he wore the strap that looped around his neck. “What? How?”
“My belay buddy was flirting with the belayer next to him. He wasn’t paying attention when I tried to clip my third bolt. Fed me too much slack.” She took a steadying breath before continuing. “I slipped before I could clip and decked.”
“Holy fuck, Tabitha!” Rage bubbled over as he stepped closer and grabbed her shoulders. “What were you thinking climbing with some rando? You could have been killed.”
She shrugged his hands off her. “But I wasn’t.”
“What did you hurt?” He’d tempered his anger, but no doubt she’d catch the nostril flaring.
“Left femur. Clean break. Not compound, thankfully. I got a metal rod and a handful of screws out of the deal.” She smiled sadly. “Oh, and six months of recovery and physical therapy.”
She’d gone through hell. And Zac hadn’t been there to help her.
Why would he have been? He’d been out of her life, forgotten, long before the accident.
Still, guilt seeped into him, and he dropped to his knees.
Before she could ask what he was doing, his hands were gliding over her thigh.
Inch after inch, he placed kisses along her goose-bumped skin.
He paused at her surgery scars—had assumed they were scrapes and cuts from normal climbing activities, not because of some fucker’s negligence.
He stood and cupped her face in his hands. Planted a hearty kiss on her lips.
“You were too scared to go out again?”
She bristled. “Right.”
“I’m not judging. Not in the slightest, tabby cat. I’m sorry you went through that. And I don’t blame you for not wanting to repeat history. And I’m proud of you for being brave and coming out here this week.”
He laid one more gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Anyways. R ‘n’ R is going through major budget cuts. Claudia told me the OtB article was my chance to ensure I’m not laid off with the others at the magazine. I figured it's now or never. Time to get back on the horse.”
“Are you glad you did?”
“Yes. Falling boulders notwithstanding.” She chuckled and rewarded Zac with a chaste kiss. “I’ve missed this.”
“Me too.” Zac lifted the camera and resumed shooting.
“Can I ask you a question . . . about the past?” Tabitha asked, clearly trying to hide the nervousness in her voice.
“Of course.” Here it came, but he was ready for it. There was no way they’d get through the week without it coming up.
“It’s kind of heavy,” she said with a slight wobble.
“You can ask me anything, anytime,” Zac assured, shifting around her to capture different angles. He paused as she stepped toward him and touched his forearm. He lowered the camera.
“Why did you leave?”