Page 3 of Once Upon a Fable

I rolled my eyes at my profile again.

Because I’m stupid, that’s why.

Name:Gemma Ashcroft

Age:Twenty-six

Appearance:Blonde, hazel eyes, curvy but athletic

Ethnicity:Half American, half Norwegian.

Looking for:A man who loves the outdoors. Single. Loves to travel. Doesn’t mind camping and exploring off the beaten track. Trustworthy. Kind. Passionate. Intelligent—

“Ugh.” I deleted it all. “Just give up, Gem. Get a dog that you can drag around the backcountry and accept that you’re successful in business, but in romance...you suck.”

Nodding at my wisdom, I went to close out of the site, but a rush of rebellion shot down my fingers, and I typed:

Looking for:A man who’s dominant and dangerous but not afraid of a woman who’s probably far more successful than he is. A man who knows how to grant pleasure without thinking he’s some gift to womankind. A man who knows how to cook and clean without needing a girlfriend for a maid. A man who doesn’t have fifteen exes, two kids, a beer belly, and can’t use a screwdriver. A man who...is a man. An old-fashioned man who is prickly but sweet. Who is gruff but kind. A man who will sweep me off my feet but allow me to fly free, all while he makes me come alive beneath his tongue.

“You aresuchan idiot.” I laughed under my breath as I deleted the entire thing, closed the window, and went to shut down my laptop. “No more daydreaming of fantastical men who don’t exist.”

A flashing notification caught my eye, alerting me to a new post inClimbers Anon. I opened my screen again. I’d stalked that online group for a few years. The group’s tagline promised virgin routes, secret boulders, and untried mountains.

In the years I’d followed them, they hadn’t posted a single adventure that I hadn’t already done or heard about.

Until now.

As I scanned the link and the hazy photo of a boulder cluster covered in weeds and debris, my heart rate picked up.

Kentucky Khaleesi

Found two days ago deep within Mammoth Cave National Park. Overgrown. Hidden in a ravine that seems impassable. I’ve marked the trail to get there with yellow ribbon. Didn’t climb down as had no gear. 4WD required, followed by steep descent on foot. Whoever gets there first can name the route. Climbing grade? I’d say fucking hard.

My heart pumped faster as I glanced at my dirty, well-used backpack where I’d tossed it by the front door. I hadn’t found an exciting climb in a few months. Regardless, I kept my bag packed with food and camping necessities, and carried around a permanent tent and bedroll in the back of my Jeep, along with all my ropes, gear, and filming equipment.

I could leave in a few minutes.

I could be the first.

I could claim it.

Enlarging the photo, I squinted at the size and shape. Fog had rolled into the valley where it was hiding, distorting the lines. Weeds made the outline of rock and plant hard to distinguish, and twilight shadows hid most of its secrets.

I couldn’t tell if it would be a worthwhile journey from just the picture. However, I could see it was big. A looming giant rock compared to the trees below. It was untouched by human hands. It was calling to me to scale.

What else do you have planned?

I had no contests for the rest of the year. No luncheons with girlfriends. No dinners with potential lovers. I didn’t even have a dog to walk. I was successful, healthy, and had ensured my future would always include financial freedom. But...I was alone, and I didn’t like the emptiness of not having a challenge to tackle.

Look at what a few days with idle hands has done to me.

I’d stooped low enough to fill out a profile for an online dating site. I didn’t care if all my ex-school friends had found their husbands and wives that way. I didn’t buy into the advertisement that online dating was safer and far more effective than trolling parks, bars, and coffee shops looking for that perfect other half.

It was time I accepted that my love affair included granite, quartz, and feldspar instead of someone with a heartbeat.

And you know what? That’s totally fine with me.

Stone couldn’t trick you or tease you. It couldn’t pretend to be interested because of your money or lie that they were single and sane.