“It’s fair.”
Fair wasn’t a word she would have used, but she wasn’t going to argue semantics.
Ash motioned to the church’s bus, an old school bus donated a few years ago. Trish said the kids’ paint job with multicolored shapes reminded her of The Partridge Family, an old show she watched as a kid.
“Is the youth group responsible for the adventure photos on your walls?” he asked.
“No. The church’s singles group is.”
He took a step toward her. “Singles group?”
She raised her chin. “Yes.”
“Good for you.”
He didn’t sound upset, more . . . supportive. Maybe he hadn’t been jealous of Sam.
“I forgot to bring napkins. You have some chocolate here.” His fingertip brushed the corner of her mouth, sending a burst of sensation from the point of contact. “Now it’s gone.”
He’d touched her lips before with both his fingers and his mouth, but this gesture felt more intimate. Heat singed her insides. Chills tingled on the outside. All she needed was a kiss . . .
What was she thinking?
So what if she hadn’t felt this way in two years? They weren’t a couple. Wouldn’t be one. She crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed her bare arms.
“Cold?” he asked.
“I’m fine.” Or would be as soon as she stopped thinking crazy thoughts about Ash.
He removed a sugar donut from the box. “Have you ever done a ropes course before?”
“No, but Sam said the activities build trust and camaraderie. Have you been to one?”
“No, but I’m looking forward to this. Building trust is something I need to work on.”
The anticipation in his gaze made her mouth go dry. She cleared her throat. “Sounds like something we all need.”
“You’re very trusting.”
“I used to be.”
“What happened?” he asked.
She moistened her lips. “You.”
You.
During the drive and now on the high ropes course, Jenna’s word echoed through Ash’s head. What she said bugged him. He sat with eight teens and their guide thirty feet above the ground.
The midday sun blazed down from a cloudless blue sky. He tried focusing on what the guide, an army vet named Rob, was saying about the challenging exercise they’d just finished, but Ash’s thoughts were on Jenna.
Yes, he deserved the blame for what happened, but she’d accepted his apology. He’d paid her back and was restoring her reputation with mutual friends and acquaintances. He didn’t know what else he could do to prove he was sorry. Couldn’t she meet him halfway? Or was that asking too much?
“An interesting task.” Rob, a friendly, in-shape guy, emphasized the learning process while sprinkling in character and common sense and a little scripture. Like Sam, Rob had a way that drew the teens in. “So what else did we learn?”
“To communicate,” someone mumbled from the back.
Rob nodded. “Knowing how to communicate in different circumstances is key, no matter if you’re on a ropes course, in a classroom, on a field, or down on your knees praying. Did you communicate?”
Heads hung low. A few shook back and forth.
The teens owning up to what they hadn’t done pleased Ash. As frustration levels rose during the last task, so had voices, until the volume got stuck at yelling. They’d completed the exercise through brute force, not teamwork. But Rob’s question was directed at the teens, so Ash remained quiet.
“Screaming at each other isn’t communicating,” another teen added.
“If we don’t work as a team, we won’t get far,” a boy with wavy red hair and wearing a Seattle Seahawks T-shirt and board shorts answered.
A girl, her wrist covered in friendship bracelets, sighed. “Too bad we didn’t figure that out sooner.”
Two kids who’d started off strong, then gave up in the middle of the task, laughed, the sound full of nerves, not humor.
“You need one leader.” The boy’s serious voice matched his facial expression. “Someone who doesn’t act like a dictator and will listen to feedback.”
“You have to follow who’s in charge even if you might not agree with them,” said a girl, the self-appointed leader no one wanted to follow.
“Excellent observations.” Rob looked at each teen, waiting until he’d made eye contact before going to the next person. “Could any of you have completed this challenge alone?”
“No,” they said in unison.
“That’s right.” A satisfied smile graced Rob’s lips. “It’s one reason you struggled more with this task than others. You had to rely on each other to succeed.”
The redheaded kid snickered. “You set us up to fail.”
“Nope.” Rob leaned back on his hands. “Following a leader who does a task differently is lesson we must learn.”
“Impossible,” one mumbled.
Another nodded. “What does it matter? We won’t be on a ropes course again for a long time. If ever.”