“Maybe ‘something on the side’ is on a list all of its own.”
“That’s better than ranking it behind laundry.”
“Depends a lot on your partner.” He glances my way, and our eyes connect and hold. Heat rushes to my face, but he looks away first.
I clear my throat and redirect. “But let’s discuss this burger and a beer item. That’s two things.”
“They are a pair,” he counters. “Together they’re one of my best things ever.”
“I dunno,” I say. “That sounds like rationalizing. Two things can’t be one thing. That should be against the rules.”
“My list, my rules.”
Caleb flashes me a grin that’s almost as blinding as the sun on the water.
I will not be tempted . . .
Okay, I can’t help that I am.
I will not give in to temptation.
“So, Mr. Rules Guy,” I say, diverting the topic twice in as many minutes. “I took what you said yesterday to heart and decided to refrain from recording my zip-line experience.”
“I approve. But that’s my personal rule, not an official one.”
I shake my head. “It’s not about the rules. It’s what you said about enjoying the experience in real time. And I intend to enjoy every second of it. I want to be totally in the moment.”
“Then you’ll love it,” he says.
Caleb turns to me as we reach the starting point. The staff of the zip-line place are demonstrating harnesses and handing out waivers. I falter a little, because yeah, I’m going to voluntarily plummet off a mountain. That’s a perfectly sane thing to do.
Caleb touches my arm as if to ground me in the moment, and tingles spiral through my body from the contact. “So, is there a particular reason you’ve never gone zip-lining before?” he asks, seeming oblivious to the effect he has on me. “Anything I should be aware of so I can make sure you have a good time?”
“Do you mean is there a snorkel story behind it?” I ask, trying to keep things light and decidedly unsexy.
“Exactly. Incidentally, your ex was a jerk. Just had to say it. When someone has never done something before, you don’t just set them loose without giving them the basic guidelines. It’s irresponsible at best.”
“I appreciate that. And now I have a good experience to replace that disaster.” And with much better company. “As for zip-lining . . .” I eye the cable that I’m about to trust with my life. “If we were meant to travel through the treetops, God would’ve given us wings.”
He laughs. “You’re a trip. So if we’re not meant to fly over the jungle, why are you here?”
I glance from the launch pad to him and back again, then swallow hard. “That’s a question to ask over a burger or beer, not before a girl is about to go down a zip line for the first time.”
“My bad. Let’s get you hooked in.”
I eye the zip-line instructors up ahead. “Isn’t that their job?”
Caleb shrugs, an impish smile lifting his lips. “It is, but for first-time zip liners, I like to guide them through the experience myself.”
And when the guide is Caleb, I enjoy being guided far too much.
He helps me into an arrangement of webbing straps and buckles, tugging to test the fit. The double check seems meant to reassure me, which I appreciate. I more than appreciate it. The feeling is like the warm buzz of a secret cup of coffee, just for me.
When his hands run along the harness, a tingle slides down my chest. My gaze strays to those strong hands. Bet they’d feel good on me without this overcomplicated seat belt in the way.
Oh yes, they would.
I picture hands skimming along my arms, down my sides, over my belly, and my breath hitches.
“It’s going to be great,” Caleb says. “All you have to do is enjoy the ride.”
I wet my dry lips. “I . . . uh, what?”
He nods to the edge of the platform. “The ride down the mountain. What did you think I meant?” he asks. His smirk says caught ya, but the heat in his eyes says either he read my mind or his is on the same track.
Maybe this is a top six item—enjoying lusty thoughts about my adventure tour guide.
The zip-line guy motions that it’s my turn. Before I know it, I’m at the edge, with nothing stopping me from jumping but . . .
Me.
I can do this, I can do this, I whisper to myself, my eyes closed, my heart pounding against my ribs.
“You can do this, Skyler.” Caleb’s voice is close to my ear. “All you have to do is jump.”
And so I do.
8
Caleb
It’s been a long time since something made me happier than this—Skyler’s gleeful scream as the zip-line whisks her away from the platform and over the valley. Even after countless times, the feeling doesn’t get old—the swoop in the stomach, the zing of the cable, the rush of wind in your face. Plus, the magnificent view.