Page 112 of Discovered Magic
“No, just his baked chicken and homemade applesauce. Oh, and the focaccia. And maybe?—”
She pinched him.
“Ouch!” He rubbed his abused nipple. “He’s got nothing on your baking, Fire?—”
“Don’t you say it, Wild Man. Not if you want to live another minute.”
Rolling atop her, he pinned her arms over her head. “Hmm, I think you secretly like having two men around to spoil you. Him in the kitchen, and me in the bedroom."
Abbie wiggled, parting her legs to cradle his hips. “And still, you deny my request for a threesome.”
“Not funny,” he growled. “I don’t want to be forced to kill our chef and future climbing partner.”
Climbing partner. Something she no longer was.
Suddenly, she didn’t feel like teasing anymore, and she focused on the blazing fire.
Sensing her withdrawal, Wilder released her hands, sat back on his heels, and lifted her to straddle him. He hugged her to him so tightly she feared it might limit her ability to breathe. But the closeness was precisely what she needed.
“We’ll climb again, Abbie. When you’re ready.”
“It’s our job, Wild Man. How can I train others and teach them to be calm when I can’t work through my own trauma?”
Her panic attacks had been crippling to her career, and if it hadn’t been for Royal taking up the slack, their business would be bankrupt by now. Somehow, she had to find a way to overcome her fear of falling and failing others. To reestablish confidence instead of hesitating before doing the small, physical things that once came easily—tying knots, balancing, reaching high shelves.
“You fell, not once, but twice, and still, you were willing to go back to the summit to kick Morcunt’s ass. That’s not nothing, sweetheart.”
As she met his understanding gaze, her love for him grew. Wilder Thorne was her greatest cheerleader, and his unwavering support fueled her desire to be whole again. Yes, Damian had removed her scars, repairing the muscle and bone that never healed properly, but he hadn’t been able to take away her newly developed fear of heights.
“What if I can never climb again?”
“We’ll face that mountain when we come to it,” he assured her.
She laughed. “I see what you did there.”
“I’m crafty like that.”
Feeling oddly vulnerable under his steady stare, Abbie glanced down at the engagement ring on his pinky. “How did Bart miss this?”
“I’m not complaining. This has been on my finger since you put it there, and it’s never coming off unless you take it off.” He dropped a light kiss on her nose. “Even then, I’ll fight you for it.”
“We should make it official, don’t you think?” She lifted her gaze to his, grinning at his surprise. “It’s been twelve years, counting the two you remained faithful to a dead woman.”
“You were never dead, Abbie.” He touched his heart. “Not here, where it mattered.”
Taking his hand, she placed it on her chest. “Or here, where it mattered. My inner self always remembered you, Wild Man, and it always will.”
“True soulmates,” he agreed.
“True soulmates.” Threading her fingers through his thick, dark hair, she drew his head down to hers. And just before sealing it with a kiss, she added, “Forever and always.”
One week later, Wilder pulled to a stop in the parking lot of their climbing center. Through the storefront window, he caught a glimpse of Abbie, grinning at Quentin, who looked to be teasing her again. The two had become as close as siblings raised at birth, and he couldn’t be happier for them.
“She’s close.”
He glanced at Royal, who had their morning coffee order in hand. “Yeah, I think so too, but I’ve no intention of pushing her until she’s one hundred percent ready. That’s how mistakes happen.”
“Absofuckinglutely.” Royal swung open the Jeep’s door and, right before exiting, said, “But between you, Quentin, and me, yeah, we’re three badass mofos, Wild Man. We’re not letting her fall.” With promise in his eyes, he said, “You either, bro. I take my job as Protector seriously.”
