“Would it make it better or worse if I said, I really hope not?”
She let out a strangled growl. “Probably worse.”
“Then I won’t say that.”
“Good.”
There was silence on the line, and she focused on her breathing.
“Are you still there?” he asked, tentative.
“Yes,” she hissed between clenched teeth. “Meet me tomorrow at Mile High Trekkers in Boulder. Ten o’clock. Don’t be late. I have a lot to do tomorrow.”
“Sure, sure.” He stumbled over his words in an effort to get them out quickly. “Whatever you say. And Kelsey?”
“What?” She scowled at the phone, feeling like an idiot in a hundred different ways.
His voice dropped. “It will be good to see you.”
She clutched the edge of the counter and swallowed. “Good-bye, Ross.” She ended the call before she said something she regretted. Though at this point, she had the feeling she was far beyond regret.
Chapter Thirteen
Ross watched Kelsey from the corner of his eye as she joked with the long-haired clerk from Mile High Trekkers. The man—Ross thought it was a man, though he wasn’t entirely sure—had some annoying name like Cedar or Aspen, and was trying to act as if he and Kelsey were best friends. Kelsey knew the girl at the register, too. She knew everyone here, even some random customer who walked in off the street.
No, it went beyond knowing. She was a damn legend here, as far as he could tell.
“…never been camping?”
He heard bits and pieces of their conversation, a hint of disbelief-slash-amusement in Cedar-Aspen’s voice. Stupid kid. When was the last time he’d negotiated a $200 million development contract? Ross knew he was being immature, but something about seeing Kelsey in her element left him feeling even more outside of his than he had before.
He walked up and down the tiny ramp they had set up in the store for people to use when trying on new hiking boots, and tried not to feel like an idiot as he smashed his toes against the front of the boot, as he’d been told. The boots felt fine, but Kelsey kept saying they needed to be better than fine if they were going to carry him up and down trails, loaded down with a backpack full of gear.
She was painfully cute when she was being serious. Today, she wore her own hiking boots with a pair of thick wool socks peeping over the edges. Her hair had been caught in a high ponytail, a pair of mirrored sunglasses perched on top of the sunshiny mass. She said after they were done she was going to do ten miles today while wearing a fifty-pound pack, and he didn’t doubt it, just like he didn’t doubt that she could run circles around him, even though he’d always prided himself on staying in shape.
He’d promised to bring the kids back tomorrow for their own boot fitting, but he wanted to get as much done as he could today, while he was on his own. A pile of gear sat beside the cash register: tent, sleeping bags, sleeping pads, stove, cookware, backpacks, and of course, several of the first aid kits of which Kelsey was so fond. He’d really need to get this contract with Herriot once he got the bill from this shopping expedition.
“What do you think? Are your toes too cramped? Imagine walking down a trail for three hours with your toes pushing up against the front of your shoe like that.”
She was studious, solemn. He smiled. “I’m just going out for the weekend with the kids, Kelsey, not climbing one of the fourteeners with you.”
The kids had told him what that term meant on Monday, when they filled him in on the day at the climbing gym. Luke, for the first time since they’d come to Denver, had been beaming. Not just smiling, but beaming. Matt was less enthusiastic about climbing himself, but seemed to appreciate the importance of what had happened for his brother’s sake. Julia had jumped up and down, clapping and squealing when she said that Luke was a natural, and he was already doing adult climbs, and Tank—God only knew who that was—said he had to come back and join their team because he was amazing, and Kelsey had climbed all the fourteeners and was famous.
Only Julia could deliver this much information in a single breath.
“I know that. I’m just trying to make sure you get fitted right.”
Kelsey’s face had turned red, and he regretted the joke. It obviously made her uncomfortable when people called attention to her exploits. When Cedar-Aspen had asked her about the details of her upcoming trip, she’d brushed off his questions as if she was hiking around the block instead of up a mountain in Nepal. When the girl at the counter asked if it was true that she was going to be on the cover of some catalog for sporting gear, she’d flushed and admitted yes, but then immediately turned the conversation to the relative merits of down versus synthetic sleeping bags.