Losing their sponsors would be devastating. Himalayan expeditions could run close to $100,000, and without funding, there was little chance Kelsey and her father could afford to go. At least, not without several more years of working and saving money. And even though Mick was in amazing shape, he wasn’t getting any younger. Kelsey had the distinct feeling that this was their last chance to make it up the mountain.
Just to add a little more pressure to the expedition. Because things were so lighthearted right now.
“Way to go, Jules,” Kelsey called when Julia reached the top and squinted over her shoulder, a grin splitting her tiny face. “That was amazing.”
“What do I do now?” the black-haired sprite asked, her expression uncertain.
“Climb down,” Kelsey said.
Julia paused, lowered a foot, then a hand, and then jumped off the wall, landing in a heap on the soft mats. She rolled onto her back and threw her arms out wide, giggling. “That was fun.”
“Just be careful when you jump,” Kelsey said, pulling her gently to her feet by one hand. “You don’t want to fall on top of someone else.”
Julia hopped onto her feet. “I promise.” She ran to the wall and placed her hands on the plastic handholds that had been carefully positioned at just the right height for a small climber. “Can I go ahead?”
Kelsey nodded. “Sure. I’ll keep an eye on you.”
She positioned herself a few feet away so she could watch Luke as well. The older boy had moved farther down the wall and was now attempting a harder climb, one designed for a beginning adult, rather than a child. Still, he was making a good go of it, gritting his teeth as he tried a difficult move requiring him to switch his feet on a single foothold before stretching to reach a handhold above his head.
“Never thought I’d see you with a bunch of kids,” Mick said.
Coming from any other parent, this might have been a sly hint that he was impatient for grandchildren. But Kelsey knew well that grandkids were the last thing on Mick’s mind. His comment was more of a dig, a way to let her know he was watching and judging.
“I’m keeping up with my training, Dad,” she said, wishing she didn’t feel a surge of guilt when she thought about the run she’d skipped on Friday, or the extra margarita she’d had with Marie on Saturday when it became clear that Ross wasn’t going to call.
“If you say so.”
“I also double-checked on our travel arrangements and visas, and returned those crampons that were damaged in shipping.”
Mick grunted, shooting her a sideways glace. “As long as you aren’t getting distracted.”
“I’m not distracted,” she snapped, the easy moment between them dissolving in a surge of irritation.
“You aren’t going to back out on the Artisan shoot, are you? You haven’t scheduled a babysitting job or started running a summer camp?”
“No, I won’t back out of the shoot.” Kelsey ran an exasperated hand through her hair. “For Pete’s sake, have I ever backed out on anything before?”
His mouth twisted, and he turned away from her to watch Luke. “Just the summit. But that was a big one, don’t you think?”
Chapter Twelve
The brilliant afternoon sun reflected off the surface of Ross’s laptop, and he spun around in his new office chair to adjust the window shade. The whir of the blinds falling into place echoed in the empty room. Someday, he imagined, the light, open space in downtown Denver would be filled with file cabinets, a drafting table, and comfortable chairs for conferences, but right now, it held only the large oak desk he’d had delivered that morning, his laptop, and a printer. A waterfall of papers decorated the empty desk, while a document titled “Stagefeather” taunted him from the open computer.
But he really wasn’t thinking about work.
Call her… Call her not… Call her… Call her not.
Had he ever struggled so much with one simple decision?
Ross stared at the phone on the desk as if it might actually stand up and lecture him in a metallic, pseudo-human voice. “Please make a decision, idiot, so we can all get on with our lives.”
Familiar arguments warred for control of his brain, as they had ever since she’d left on Friday. On one hand, he knew it would be ridiculous to pursue her further. Neither he nor the kids could handle complications right now, and as gorgeous and sexy as she was, Kelsey was all kinds of complicated. On the other hand, he wanted her with a hunger he couldn’t begin to explain, a gnawing that began in his gut and pulsed through every cell of his body.
Glumly, he continued to stare at the phone, his hands not moving. She was different from any woman he’d ever known. Something was driving her. Something deep and powerful. Unlike the carefree, irresponsible vagabond he’d assumed she must be, he didn’t get the sense that she took any joy in her upcoming trip. She’d flared with a powerful sense of injustice when he suggested she was irresponsible for being a climber.