Parental Guidance (Ice Knights #1)(19)

It did not.

The metal pole in the middle of the platform was too slick to grip, and her fingers slid across it without stopping. That happened later after they drifted by the platform again, only now with their momentum shot, they were too far away to reach it. So they held on to the rope as it swayed in slower and slower circles until it finally came to a complete dead stop.

“We officially suck at this,” she said, wriggling to try to get some momentum back, a move that had absolutely no effect.

“Oh well, plan B. Time to play it by instinct and just go for it.” The words were barely out of Caleb’s mouth before he let go and fell into the safety net below them.

Looking down at the net and then over at the platform, her type-A personality protested, but she had to admit that Caleb had the right idea. Just like them dating, this obstacle course was only a game, so they might as well let go and have fun with it. She unwound her fingers from her death grip on the rope and did a very ungraceful back flop onto the net below.

They didn’t even come close to beating the course record; they didn’t even beat any of the other Bramble daters—not that anyone else seemed to realize it had been a competition.

By the time they were sitting side by side on a bench by the lockers putting their regular shoes back on, the awkwardness of earlier had faded and she could actually look at Caleb without wanting to crawl into a hole and hide—or climbing him and doing things to him.

“So, are you going to tell Asha all about my severely lacking balance skills?” he asked, scooting closer to her.

Nodding, she leaned down and buckled the strap of her high wedge sandals. “Without a doubt.”

“After what happened the other day with you going down hard on the sidewalks of our fair city, do you really think it’s a great idea to be wearing shoes like that?”

She sat up and glared at him. “That was a freak accident caused by slow-walking tourists. I can run in these.”

“Really?” One side of his mouth curled up in an ornery grin.

Was he teasing her? Yeah, more than likely, but she couldn’t let doubt like that stand. “Watch me.”

And she did it. She ran the small track beneath the safety nets accompanied by the cheers of encouragement of her fellow Bramble folks still putting on their shoes and chatting with their dates. Yeah, it may have been more to smooth her wounded ego after he’d given her the heave-ho when she’d started to make a move to kiss him, but a woman had to have her pride, and hers was pretty dinged up. That was all behind her, though—right up until she came to a stop directly in front of him.

There was something about how he stood there, his arms crossed over his wide chest, a crooked smile beneath his equally crooked nose that got her smack-dab in the middle of the overlapping circles in the he’s-so-hot and the this-is-a-bad-idea-but-I’m-thinking-it-anyway Venn diagram.

“I’m suitably impressed,” he said, falling in beside her as she walked toward the front door. “There’s no way I could do that.”

“I could give you lessons.” No. No, she couldn’t. That definitely did not fit into the five-dates-and-done plan.

“I might take you up on that.” He held open the door and moved to the side so she could go through first.

They walked out together into the bright sunshine of early September. Neither of them moved toward the parking lot. Trying not to notice how her body was on awareness DEFCON 1 being near him like this, she scanned the parking lot, looking for a sports car or ridiculously expensive luxury vehicle that he probably drove. Nothing fit the bill, and she was about to ask him which car was his when Gemma pulled up, stopping in front of them. Anchovy, with his sassy new doggie bandanna tied around his neck from his trip to the groomer, stuck his head out of the sunroof and gave her a happy hello bark.

“That’s my ride,” she said, willing her feet to move, which they did not. “Gemma was a lifesaver and took my dog to his grooming appointment while I was here.”

Another bark from Anchovy, who was looking between her and Caleb as if he was trying to figure out if he needed to intervene or jump out to get pets from a stranger.

“I can give you a ride next time.” He reached out, hand relaxed, so the dog could sniff his knuckles, which Anchovy did before using his snout to toss Caleb’s hand up and onto the top of his furry head for a good pet. “This guy would definitely fit in my truck.”

“Maybe,” Zara said, a fizzy awareness making her skin tingle as she got into the car.

Gemma didn’t say anything, but the raised eyebrow, oh-honey look she gave Zara promised there would be an interrogation later. As it was, Zara was rescued by Anchovy’s enthusiastic greeting when Gemma pulled the car into traffic. Zara tried to figure out what in the world she was going to tell her friend about date two when she had no idea what had just happened—because it sure felt like something.

And dear God, she didn’t even want to think about what might happen on date three.





Chapter Six


“Tell me everything or there’s no way we can be friends,” Gemma demanded as they walked into Zara’s apartment.

Anchovy galloped inside, rushing around looking for his oversize tennis ball that was the size of a mini basketball. Like the smart women they were, they stayed out of the dog’s way. No one wanted to stand between Anchovy and his most prized possession.