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—”