Page 68 of Nothing But Air

Their fingers brushed when she handed him the bag.

Brief. Accidental. Completely unremarkable.

His pulse kicked up anyway.

“You okay there?” Eden’s voice was innocent. Her eyes were not. “You look a little flushed.”

“It’s hot.”

“It’s seventy-two degrees.”

“I run warm.”

“Clearly.” She popped an almond into her mouth, the picture of innocence. “So. The plan?”

Get it together.

“Eden and I lead up.” He steadied his voice. “We set anchors as we go, establish a safe route to the cave entrance. Marcus and Xander, you belay from the base, then we bring you up once we’ve got it dialed in.”

Marcus stepped forward. His new hiking boots—still too shiny, too unscuffed—crunched on loose scree. “I’d like to be one of the first climbers.”

Teague glanced at Eden.

She watched him with carefully neutral eyes, but he could read the question in her expression. What are you going to do with this?

This was his chance. To prove he’d changed. To lead without bulldozing. To trust his team instead of assuming he knew best.

“You take second then.” The words came easier than expected. “I lead, you follow, Eden climbs third, Xander brings up the rear. We move as a team of four.”

Surprise flickered across Eden’s face. Something softened around her eyes. Approval, maybe. Or at least the absence of disappointment.

He’d take it.

“Look at you.” Eden’s voice dropped low enough that only he could hear. “Delegating. Listening. Who are you and what have you done with Teague Hamilton?”

“I’m growing.”

“Slowly.”

“Trees grow slowly, weeds don’t. Which would you rather me be?”

“Flowers grow quickly too.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “I’m no flower.”

“You’d make a great flower.” She sent him a teasing smile, then shoved her water bottle back in her pack. “Let’s get going before that rock gets too warm to climb.”

Fifteen minutes later, Teague stood at the base of the cliff and breathed in the warm, dusty air. Mineral tang coated his tongue—the taste of stone baked by centuries of Arizona sun. He pushed his auburn curls back from his forehead, already slick with sweat.

The wall rose in front of them in layers of rust and cream, Coconino Sandstone giving way to darker Hermit Shale near the top. Plenty of handholds and edges broke up the vertical expanse. But it would still be a tough climb.

They geared up in comfortable silence. Metal clinked against metal as Teague racked cams and quickdraws. Eden sorted the longer slings for anchor building, her movements efficient and practiced.

She really is good.

Better than good.

She finally looked up. Those blue eyes—ringed in that darker shade that was so addictive—held his gaze. “You’re staring again, Hamilton.”