by V. Vaughn
Hillary sinks back as if she can hide behind me, and I wish I could push the two girls off the chair for making her feel bad. “I’m going to tell you two a secret, but you need to promise to keep it, okay?”
I know full well they won’t, and Emery doesn’t deserve what’s going to eventually come out, but I see no other way to prove to Hillary how much I love her. Annie and Tracy nod like two bobbleheads. “We promise,” says Tracy.
“Emery and I were just for show.”
“I knew it!” Annie cries. “You never looked like you were into her. At all.”
A bit of relief fills me. “Because I wasn’t. I’ve been in love with Hillary all this time.”
Tracy scowls at me. “You mean you had a girlfriend who wasn’t famous, so you pretended to be with Emery? For what? The publicity?” She lets out a noise of disgust.
“I—” I let out a sigh because I haven’t got a clue how to salvage the situation, and I’m afraid anything I say will only make it worse.
Annie says, “Well, that was a crappy thing to do to the woman you love.” She leans out to look past me. “Hillary, you don’t have to take that, girl.”
Hillary closes her eyes and now groans loud enough for all of us to hear. And when she shrugs off my arm, I’m stuck on a chairlift with three woman who don’t like me much. I shake my head as I wonder how this date went south so fast, and I’m grateful when we finally get to the top.
The two girls can’t get off the chair and away from me fast enough, and I grab Hillary’s hand. “Hey. I’m really sorry about that.”
She waves it off. “It’s fine.”
Only I know it’s not, because her excitement from earlier is gone. We walk over to the first zipline station and hang back to put as much distance between Annie and Tracy as I can. It doesn’t stop them from shooting me evil looks while sending Hillary sympathetic ones.
When everyone one else has gone down to the next station, Hillary and I climb up the wooden platform to get into our harnesses. She’s being quiet, and I take her arms as I gaze into her eyes. “I meant what I said. I’ve never stopped loving you all these years.”
She glances at Tim, the guide who is helping us, as if she’s uncomfortable. “And I said it’s fine.”
It’s so not fine, but I reply. “Okay.” I paste on a smile. “Ready to fly?”
Her gaze darts to the zipline and then back to me before she gulps as if she’s swallowing down a big mouthful of food. Tim helps her step into a harness, and when she places her hand on his shoulder, I notice how pale she is. Her chest begins to heave, and she walks over to the edge of the platform where Tim clips her harness onto the cable of the zipline.
She grabs the railing with a death grip and begins to pant.
“Hillary?” I grab her shoulders. “Are you afraid?”
She nods, and I say, “But you love this sort of stuff. What is it?”
She gasps as if there isn’t any oxygen in the air she’s breathing, and her eyes are wild as she looks at me.
“Panic attack,” Tim says, and he shoves me out of the way to put his face right in hers. “You’re okay, Hillary. Nobody is going to make you do this.” He glares at me as if I’m a bad guy forcing her to zipline before he returns his attention to her. “I want you to breathe with me.”
His face is close enough to hers that he could kiss her, and my bear lets out a low roar. Tim flashes a jaw full of sharp teeth as he shifts partially to show me he’s a panther and prepared to fight to keep his customer safe.
It’s everything I can do to not shift and show him who really has the power here, but I remember how I felt with my panic attack, and making sure Hillary recovers is more important.
Not to be outdone by Tim, I begin to offer soothing words too and rub her back. Her breathing begins to slow, and she asks, “Could you guys give me some space here?”
It’s like a slap in the face to me, but I move back to give her room to breathe. And before Tim can look like the hero and suggest it, I say, “I’m sure we can take the chairlift back down if you want, or we can hike down. Whatever you want to do.”
Hillary studies me for a moment, and a mix of emotions seem to flash on her face, none of which appear to be happy ones. And I’m afraid she’s about to fire me from my job before our first date is over.
Chapter 22
HILLARY
Whoa. I have no idea what just happened. I mean, I know I had a panic attack, but I can’t fathom why. I don’t have a fear of heights, and considering the things I’ve done in the past, ziplining should be like riding a bike. Safe and easy.
I look at Alec’s concerned face. He’s just asked me if I want to take the chairlift or hike down. I appreciate how hard it had to have been for him to keep his bear at bay when Tim took over talking me down from the panic attack. It’s something he would never have been able to do when we were in high school, and I imagine the scene that could have happened if he’d lost control.
I suppose I could have freaked out because of the girls on the chairlift. It certainly brought me back to the past few years when I’d hear about Alec with some supermodel or movie star. It always made me feel as if I’d never been good enough.
But I am good enough. Hell, I’m better than good. And I don’t let scary things keep me from living.
I shake my head. “No. I want to zipline.”
Tim says, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You clearly have a fear—”
I turn to him and snap, “No!” I realize my tone is harsh and say, “Sorry. Look, I’m not afraid of this or heights. I’m not sure what my panic attack was about, but I do want to do this.”
He frowns. “I’m not sure I can let you. What if you freak out on the cable? It’s just not safe.”
“What?” I turn to Alec and give him a pleading look.
He asks, “What if we went tandom, Tim?”
Jeez, now I’ve got two men having a testosterone war over me. I suddenly get how unwelcome Annie and Tracy’s attention was for Alec. I say, “That’s a great idea. You must do that for people all the time.”
“Well…” Tim darts his gaze between Alec and me. “I suppose that would be okay.”
I glance at Alec, and he smiles and says, “Let’s do it.”
The instructor gets us hooked up in the harnesses and clips us together. As we near the edge of the platform where we’ll jump from, my body starts to tremble, likely caused by the leftover adrenaline from my panic attack. Alec wraps an arm around me from behind and squeezes tight.
“Did I ever tell you about the practical jokers on my team? They once stole all my pants, and you know me, I decided to walk out on the practice field in just my jock strap, pads and shirt. What I didn’t know was that a bunch of girl scouts had been invited to watch that day.”
I laugh as I picture the scene. Alec laughs over my shoulder with me. “I quickly covered up with my helmet, but I’m pretty sure I traumatized at least a hundred young girls for life. And then there was the time they put grease on a ball and threw it to me just to watch me flail trying to catch it.”
“They did not.”
“Did so.”
I realize that he’s distracted me from whatever was freaking me out and I’m no longer trembling. We’re standing at the edge, poised to go, and I turn my head to look at him. “Thanks. I’m ready now.”
Tightening his grip around me, he counts to three, and we both step off the platform to become airborne.
“Woo-hoo!” I cry out as the wind whips at us, and a smile spreads across my face. My belly does a little flip that tickles like riding through a dip in the road at a high speed. The cable hums as we careen toward the next station. The familiar rush I get from moving this fast comes to me, and I throw my arms out to soak it all in.
Alec keeps an arm wrapped around me, and the heat of his body seeps through my skin like a warm blanket of safety. And I realize that’s exactly how being with him used to make me feel. As we zip through the sky together, I rea
lize this is how it’s supposed to be. I want to be with someone who makes me feel like life is an adventure we both enjoy within the safety of each other’s love.
It occurs to me that I was right that I didn’t freak out about the height at all. I know I had my panic attack because those girls reminded me of how it felt seeing Alec on TV with Emery or any woman he had on his arm. No matter how hard I’d tried to ignore it, I felt threatened. They had something I wanted. Something that was mine.
But Alec has always been mine, and he proved it to those girls on the chairlift, even if it did make him look like a jerk.
When we get to the next station and our feet thump down on the wood platform, I turn to him and grin. “That was so much fun!”
“Want to go alone for the trip to the bottom?”
I shake my head. “I think it’s more fun with you.”
He smiles back. “Good. Because I don’t want to let go.”
This time both of us let out whoops, and while Alec holds on, I think it’s because he likes the way it feels to have me in his arms. I do too. When we get to the bottom and out of our harnesses, I can’t stop smiling. “That was so great, Alec. Thank you.”
“I’m so glad—”
I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. His surprise quickly turns to heat, and then he’s kissing me, or I’m kissing him. I don’t know who initiates it. And it doesn’t matter, really, because I could go on kissing him all day.
Finally, he pulls away. He licks his lips, and I place my hand on my mouth as I realize we made a scene.
He winks at me. “Hungry?”
Oh, I’m hungry all right—for him. And I let the twinkle in my eye say it while my words are more discrete. “Yes, I could go for dinner.”
“Good. I’ve got a great idea for another adventure.”
He grabs my hand, and we thread our fingers together as we walk back to his truck.
When we get inside, he looks over at me, and I see desire simmering in his gaze.
“Ready?” he asks, and I think he’s talking about more than dinner.
Am I? My bunny and my body definitely are. But is my heart?
Chapter 23
ALEC
I drive us back down the mountain and into town. Greenwood has more exotic food options than Heartland, and I found a great place to take Hillary.
Her eyes grow big when we park in front of The Sultan’s Tent, a Moroccan restaurant. “I’ve never eaten Moroccan food before.”
“It’s delicious. You’re going to love it.”
When we walk in, the hostess greets us and takes us to our table, which is round and low to the ground, surrounded by red, orange and gold cushions to sit on and cylinder pillows to lean against. Hillary sits, crossing her legs, and I ease down next to her.
Smiling, she gazes everywhere, taking in the brightly colored décor. Gauzy orange fabric hangs from the ceiling overhead, and white pillar candles with flickering flames are on every surface, bathing the place in a soft, sensual light.
I thought it would be the perfect place for a romantic dinner, and after the kiss we shared earlier, I think the mood is appropriate.
Hillary scans the menu and shakes her head at the options. When the server comes to take our order she says, “I have no idea what to get.”
I say, “We’ll start with the Khoudra Salad and Couscous Fassi.”
“Excellent choices,” the server says before leaving to get drinks.
“This place is beautiful,” Hillary says.
“I’d love to take you to Morocco.”
“You’ve been?”
I nod. “Yeah, a couple of years ago during the off season. I went with a couple of the other players. It was a wonderful trip. You wouldn’t believe the colors and smells there. Everything was so…”
“Vibrant?”
I nod, loving the way she just found the right word for me like she used to do. Our server returns with authentic green tea and a rosewater hand wash.
Hillary stares in confusion at the tray with small bowls of water and the cloth accompanying it.
“It’s for washing your hands before you eat.” I mimic scooping food with my first two fingers and thumb on my right hand.
Her eyebrows go up. “You eat with your hands?”
I nod. “But only with the right one. It’s rude and a sign of gluttony to eat with both hands.”
She laughs. “Who knew I would have an etiquette lesson from a football player?”
“Hey, I know more things than just throwing a football down a huge field.”
She raises her eyebrows at me as she smiles.
When our food comes, she immediately digs her fingers into the couscous before I can correct her, and I laugh.
“What’s so funny?” she asks.
“I should’ve told you. You use the tandoori bread as a way to scoop up the food.”
She gapes at the small plate with round discs of bread that came with our meal. “You’re not funny.” But she laughs anyway as she grabs a piece and uses it to scoop up more food. “I’m going to make you pay for that.”
As we eat, three belly dancers come prancing out from the back. Hillary’s eyes widen in amazement as the women gyrate their hips and make all the little bells on their colorful hip scarfs ring. The dancers are pretty women, but none of them can compare to Hillary. I can’t stop looking at her. I love the way her eyes light up every time she sees something new. I love the way her nose wrinkles when she’s thinking hard about something. I love her tiny ears and recall how, in the past, I’ve nibbled on them to make her moan with pleasure.
Frowning, she turns her head toward me. “You’re staring at me.”
I smile. “I am. You’re the most beautiful woman in the room, and I can’t help myself.”
She blushes, and my body heats up as I think about how she flushes like this for other reasons. Ones that make me squirm a little on my pillow. I want to take her home, toss her onto my bed and do every naughty little thing I’ve fantasized about for the past six years.
I want to take her home and make her moan my name when I caress her in just the right places, and I have no doubt my heated stare makes my intentions crystal clear.
“Alec,” she whispers. “Stop it and watch the show,” From the way her cheeks have turned an even brighter red, I know she’s had a good idea what I’m thinking.
I relent and do what she asks. I scoop up more food and turn to watch the women dance. But every swivel of a hip makes me imagine Hillary doing the same. I’m horny as hell for my mate, and I wonder if she would get mad if I asked our server for a to-go box and the check.
After we finish our meal, I fight with the urge to forgo dessert. But my bear and Hillary would both be disappointed if I did. I say to the waitress. “We’ll take an order of almond briouats, please.”
When the almond paste-filled puff pastry with honey drizzled on top arrives, I say to Hillary, “Wait until you taste this.”
I know what her moan of pleasure is going to do to me, and I watch her as she takes her first taste.
“Oh, Alec. So good.”
I smile. “Baby, I’ve been waiting to hear those words from you for a long time.”
She rolls her eyes, but not before I catch the heat in her gaze as well.
We devour the confection in record time, and I think she’s just as anxious as I am to be alone. But once we’re in the truck and headed home, I recall how I pushed too far too fast in the hot springs. I tell myself to let her take the lead and to not expect more than a kiss at her door. Not that I don’t hope for more. I can feel the electricity humming between us, and I believe she must feel it too.
I reach over and take her hand as we enjoy the music without conversation. A comfortable place I’m glad we’ve managed to get to again.
After I pull up to her house and park, I get out and run around to open the door for her. When we walk up the sidewalk to the door, she glances at me shyly. I wonder if she’s trying to find
a way to tell me she wants nothing more than a kiss.
I check my desire with the intent of honoring that decision if need be. And at the door I expect her to rise up on her toes to kiss me. I try not to gape with surprise when she asks, “Do you want to come in for a drink?”
My bear screams, Hell, yeah! And I say, “I’d love to.”
Chapter 24
HILLARY
The moment the question is out of my mouth, I wonder if I’ve made a mistake. Inviting Alec into my house is risky, I know. But I’m not ready for the night to end.
I open the door, and he follows me inside. I gesture to the sofa in the living room. “Make yourself at home, and I’ll fix us something to drink.” As I head to the kitchen, I ask, “Is wine okay?”
“Wine is great, thanks.”
I take out a bottle of white from the refrigerator, and the cabinet clicks open as I grab two wine glasses to take with me to the living room. Alec is on the sofa, one arm stretched out on the back. It’s the perfect spot for me to settle into, which I do.
Once I sit, I notice the stack of baby blankets I’ve been knitting sitting on the other chair, and on the floor is a big basket full of yarn with a pair of knitting needles sticking out of my current project. It’s too late to move it all now without calling attention to it, so I busy myself with pouring us the wine.
Alec points to the stack of blankets anyway. “New hobby?”
“It’s more than that.” It’s an obsession actually, but I’m not ready to share the reason why. “I run a small online store.”
He perks up. “You do? What are you selling?”
“Knit baby blankets.”
“Baby blankets.” He frowns. “I could use a new scarf and hat for the Wyoming winter coming soon. Do you ever knit stuff like that?”
I shrug. “I could. I started knitting a while ago and kind of got hooked on it.” I got hooked because I’m longing for a baby. Lots of babies, actually. It’s most definitely a rabbit thing, and if I have my way, I’ll have an entire football team of children.
