by Mia Madison
We had lunch at the hotel restaurant and then Parker smiled at me, telling me to lead the way. Pleased with his confidence in me, I started along the route I’d mapped out on the train.
The lion monument wasn’t hard to find though it was a little jarring to see such a profound memorial surrounded by hotels, shops, and restaurants. The huge stone lion was carved directly into the side of a cliff with a little lake in front of it. It was beautiful and peaceful… kind of like my spot by the river yesterday. I remembered thinking then how much I wanted to share that moment with someone—and now I had someone.
Parker took some pictures of the monument and stared at it for a long time. I wondered if he was remembering his time in the army. He’d been in Afghanistan for a few years, as well as other hot spots around the world, but he’d never talked about it much. After a while, I found myself observing him more than the monument. I wanted to step up beside him and take his hand. To show him I was here for him—and that I was glad he was here with me.
Just do it, I told myself. But I couldn’t. Because that wasn’t our relationship. Joking. Teasing. That was what we did, not holding hands. But I still wanted to.
In the end, however, the moment passed, and then we walked back down a crowded street toward the river.
It wasn’t hard to spot the Chapel Bridge. It was a low wooden structure lined with flower beds on either side. Parker paused at the edge of the water, his eyes scanning the length of the bridge. “Think boats go under that?”
I laughed. The bridge was only a few feet above the water. “Maybe kayakers.”
“Or water skiers who are good at limbo.” He looked over at me and winked, which looked pretty damn sexy on him and made my heart pound faster. He’d always done that, winking when we shared a joke, but it was only in the last few years that it had this effect on me.
We stepped onto the bridge, which was only about six or seven feet wide. A little way ahead of us, there were people examining a painting above their heads, but for the most part, it was uncrowded. Apparently late afternoon was not its busiest time.
Parker mostly looked over the rail at the water while I examined the paintings, trying to follow the storyline. We were about a third of the way across when I nearly ran into a support post while I’d been craning my neck trying to see the next painting on the rafters above me. Reaching out for balance, I almost touched the edge of the post—but then yanked my hand back at the last second.
Recoiling, I gave a shudder. I’d almost put my hand down on a black spider scurrying up the wooden beam. Taking a hasty step backwards, I scanned up and down the post and the railings along the sides. And the rafters above me. And… everywhere.
My mind shut down as I froze in place.
“Lanie?”
Parker said something else, but his words didn’t infiltrate the panic inside my head. At least not until he stepped in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders, leaning down to look into my eyes. “Lanie, what’s wrong?”
Mutely, I pointed at the spider running along the post.
“Oh yeah. Fast little bugger. This must be the beginning of the time of day when he hunts. But he won’t hurt you. Come on.”
My voice wouldn’t work, so I just shook my head.
Parker frowned at me, then his face cleared. “That’s right, I forgot you hated spiders. Or at least you did as a little girl. But you’re much bigger than him. Don’t think about him, let’s just go.”
But I couldn’t move. Didn’t he see? Didn’t he notice?
“You’re shaking. It’s just one little spider. Don’t be afraid.”
“Parker…” My voice was barely a whisper. “Parker, they’re everywhere.”
“What?” He squinted up at the painting. Dozens of spiders dangled from webs at its base. More crawled up down the underside of the roof. And on the railings. And the posts. And the banisters. There were webs everywhere. There were spiders on every surface. Climbing. Scurrying. Dangling.
How had I gotten this far without noticing them? I'd always had a fear of spiders, since as long as I could remember. How the hell was I going to make it to the end of the bridge? I’d never seen this many spiders before—not even in my worst nightmares.
“Holy shit.” Parker had finally realized the extent of the infestation. “Guess they really like wooden structures. Fuck, there’s got to be at least ten per square foot.”
At his assessment, my trembling intensified.
“Sorry, that probably didn’t help. Just don’t look at them, Lanie. Look at the floor.” He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning beneath us. “Yeah, the floor looks clear.”
I tried, focusing on my feet. Of all the days to wear sandals—I was suddenly afraid a spider was going to run over my bare toes even though Parker was right, I didn’t see any on the ground. But they were to the side. And above. That was the worst part.
“C’mon Lanie, you can do it. One foot in front of the other.”
But I couldn’t. I wanted to. I wanted to get off this bridge more than anything. But I couldn’t move.
“Close your eyes,” Parker said suddenly.
That got my attention. I looked up, focusing on his handsome face, on the concern in his eyes—not on the things climbing around in the background.
“Just close your eyes and I’ll guide you. I won’t let any of them get anywhere near you. Do you trust me?”
“But… but there’s so many of them.” My voice was little more than a squeak, but for once I didn’t care.
“Don’t think about it. Just focus on the question… do you trust me?”
Closing my mind against the nightmarish scene, I focused on the question. Once my brain cleared a little, it was an easy answer. “Yes.”
He smiled, a genuine, reassuring smile. “Then close your eyes.”
I did so, and the fear came back. Fear of eight-legged creatures jumping onto my arms, or lowering themselves onto my head. But all I actually felt was Parker’s arm drape around my shoulders as he pulled me against him. Our bodies were pressed together, side by side, but I was too scared to enjoy the sensation. Instead, I just waited.
“You’re so tense. Try to stop clenching your muscles. Then you’ll be able to move. We’re going to turn around and go back the way we came. It’s quicker.”
“Okay.” My eyes were tightly shut as Parker guided me around, almost like he was turning his partner on the dance floor. Then the pressure on my shoulders increased as he urged me forward.
We walked together slowly, and I eased my hand behind his back instead of having it awkwardly trapped between our bodies. Now it was easier to walk, but it felt strange, to be walking with my eyes closed in a public place. But I didn’t fear falling. Not with Parker by myside.
I just feared the one thing.
A few moments later, Parker stilled. “Just a second,” he said, his voice deliberately casual. I felt movement and could tell that he was lifting his free arm up toward the rafters. I took in a great gulp of air, panicking. Was there one dangling above us? What if it dropped onto me when he tried to brush it away?
“Trust me.”
His words were gentle but firm. And he was right. Though in some ways I felt I knew him less well now that we were both adults, I’d trusted him as a child and I still trusted him now. Parker was one of the few people in the world I could say that about.
After a moment, we moved on. We came to a slight curve, and I judged that we were nearing the end of the bridge, but I didn’t want to open my eyes until we were back on solid land.
Loud voices were ahead of us, and then something brushed against my arm. “It’s just a person,” Parker said as I jumped. “A whole tour just joined us. Excuse us, please.”
But the people kept coming. Taking a quick peek, I saw a stream of people on either side of us. I couldn’t see the sides of the bridge anymore, which was good, but then I looked up—and quickly shut my eyes again.
“The hell with this. Hold on.” Parker bent dow
n, and suddenly I was up in the air. Gasping, I wrapped my hands around his neck, my eyes flying open in surprise.
Parker’s green eyes were intent as he strode through the crowd in front of us. Now people moved—it was either that or get flattened. Parker was in a take-no-prisoners mode.
I couldn’t believe the way he was carrying me—as if I weighed nothing at all. It felt like I’d gone straight from a nightmare into a dream. A dream even better than the one I’d had on the plane, because this time, I really was in Parker’s arms. Pressed up against his chest.
We were finally back on the sidewalk along the river, but Parker didn’t put me down. Instead, he carried me as if he’d never tire. Finally, he spotted a bench. Shifting me gently, he sat down, balancing me on his knee, my legs together between his spread thighs.
I still had one arm around his neck, and I wasn’t in any hurry to let go. My muscles were still clenched though I tried to relax them. The only part of my body that obeyed was my head which slumped against his shoulder.
He patted my back, content to just sit there watching the water while I rested in his arms. After a few minutes of companionable silence, I thanked him. And tried to apologize. “I shouldn’t have—I mean, I know I’m bigger than them, but I just… froze.”
With his free hand, Parker brushed my hair away from my face. “They scare you,” he said simply. “We all have something that scares us. And if your fear is spiders, I couldn’t imagine a worse place for it. That many of them even gave me the heebie-jeebies.”
I grinned a little at his phrase. It was something that Claire used to say when she passed a graveyard. The thought of her younger self reminded me of something. “You carried me once before.”
Parker looked down at me, the stubble along his jawline briefly touching my forehead. “I did?”
“Yeah. We were riding bikes a few blocks from your house, and the chain came off of mine, and I fell and skinned my knee. I started crying because it hurt, and Claire tried to push both our bikes, but mine wouldn’t roll because of the chain. And then we say you and your buddies coming out of the convenience store. Claire called out to you, and I thought you wouldn’t want to be seen helping two little girls in front of your high school friends, but you just came straight over. And you picked up me with one hand, my bike with the other, and off we went.”
“You remember that? That had to be over twelve years ago.”
I nodded, refraining from telling him that I remembered pretty much every encounter I’d ever had with him.
He was silent for a moment. “Maybe I remember it, too. Did you have a pink bike with a white basket in the front?”
“Yep.”
“And you had your hair in pigtails, right?”
“You do remember.”
“It’s starting to come back to me. The bike and your skinned knee. As for your hair, it was a pretty safe bet. It was always in pigtails.”
“Pretty much.”
“It was cute,” he said, running his free hand through my hair. “I’m glad you kept it long.”
Pleasure flushed through me. My hair wasn’t as long as it had been when I was a kid, but it still reached the middle of my breasts. I felt it was my best feature, and I was pleased to know he’d noticed it. And that he liked it.
I spent a few more contented minutes in his arms as he stroked my hair lightly, and then the real world started to seep in. And along with it—embarrassment. My face flushed as I stood up, reluctant to leave the safe cocoon of his arms, but needing to. Part of my mission on this trip was to get Parker to see me as an adult, not as a scared little girl. This hadn’t helped.
Slowly, I walked toward the water. I stopped just short of putting my hands on the railing that lined the river. Carefully, I examined it, then took a step back. Jeesh, were spiders the national animal of Switzerland or something?
My phone buzzed as I stood there. I pulled it out and saw that Parker had his out, too. It was a text from Claire saying that her grandmother was still in critical condition but was hanging in there.
“She’s a tough old bird,” Parker said coming over to stand next to me.
“Unlike me.” I couldn’t imagine Mrs. Grant’s mother quivering in fear because of an arachnid.
He put his hand on my shoulder. “We all have things we’re afraid of. Don’t beat yourself up over this.”
“It’s kind of hard not to.”
“Then let’s come up with some sort of distraction.”
For one wild moment, the first thing that popped into my head was that he was going to kiss me. That would definitely qualify as one hell of a distraction. But his next words quelled that thought. “Have you ever tried fondue?
“No.” But I’d always wanted to. And if it meant having dinner alone with Parker, I’d probably agree to a meal that consisted entirely of parsley.
“I think there’s a fondue place back by the hotel. And then I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“You do?”
“Yep. Remember that buddy of mine? The one who knows everything about this country?”
“You mean Google.”
“Yes, that’s him. He gave me a heads up that our rail passes can be used for other things besides trains.”
“Really? Like what?”
“You’ll find out. Let’s go.”
He held out his hand, and just like that, I was walking through the streets of Lucerne, Switzerland, hand in hand with my best friend’s brother.
Lanie
“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice dreamy. We’d had a lovely meal, at a surprisingly good little restaurant. We’d talked the entire time without once faltering around for a topic. Parker had beer, and I had water and even a small glass of wine. It’d made me feel like an adult though I’d only drank half of it.
And the fondue—wow. The pot they’d put between us had had more molten cheese than two Chicago-style deep dish pizzas. Parker had enjoyed it, dipping bread and meat into the melted cheese, but I’d mostly enjoyed spending the evening with him.
And now we were on a twilight boat cruise on Lake Lucerne. Over dinner, Parker revealed that he’d found out our rail passes were good for certain kinds of boats, too. He’d also told me, with a wink, that spiders were not known for their seafaring ways. His sexy wink was almost as curative as his hand in mine had been.
Now, we were sitting side by side on a bench on the front deck of the boat. Parker’s arm rested on the back of the seat behind me. It wasn’t exactly around me, but I could still feel his strong arm behind me from time to time.
The view in front of us was amazing. Twinkling lights along the shoreline. Other boats bobbing softly up and down in marinas. The setting sun. It was perfect. At least until Parker leaned over and said, “Look at that girl.”
Following his gaze, I saw a young woman about my age with long blonde hair leaning against the railing taking picture after picture of the amazing scenery.
She was very pretty with well-built figure that made me feel like a little kid by comparison. It hurt that Parker had pointed her out to me.
“Take a look at what she’s doing,” Parker whispered, nudging me.
Squinting in the dim light, I looked back at her again. At the way she was tossing her head back and forth. And pursing her lips, making a duckface.
My hand flew to my mouth to keep from laughing. All this incredible scenery, and she was taking picture after picture of herself.
A giggle escaped me, and Parker grinned. “You’d think she’d at least turn around so there’d be water in the background.” He was right. All she was getting in the background was a white wall and a life preserver. “Thank God you’re not that kind of vain, shallow woman.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, but his words made me smile and flush with pleasure.
After a few more minutes, the woman flounced off, giving Parker a hungry glance as she did so. He didn’t seem to notice; he was lost in thought staring at the water. After stretching the arm he�
�d had behind me, he stood up and walked over to the rail. I joined him after a moment.
“So what’s the plan for tomorrow. Onto the next city?” His voice was quiet and contemplative.
“No, we’ve got one more night here. Tomorrow we tour Pilatus.”
“Is that a museum?” His voice was suspicious.
I couldn’t help giggling. “No, it’s a mountain.”
“A mountain? I don’t suppose we can take a boat to get up there. This is nice.”
It really was. And I was happy to tell him that he was half right. “I’m pretty sure we can take a boat or a train to the station at the base of Mt. Pilatus. Then we take the cog rail up.”
“What’s that? One of those compartment that dangles in midair like that huge Ferris Wheel in London?”
“The London Eye.” I hadn’t been there, but I’d seen pictures. “No… that’s like an aerial cable car or a gondola. This is just a regular train, I think, only there’s a steeper incline.”
“What do you do once you reach the top? Take a picture and head back down?” Parker didn’t sound very enthusiastic. Maybe it sounded boring to him. After all, he’d been in the army and done all kind of exciting things.
“No, there’s lots to do,” I said, putting all the enthusiasm I could into my voice. I’d read up on Mt. Pilatus quite a bit since it was my first chance to get up in the mountains. “There are walking paths up top, a nice restaurant, a gift shop… sometimes musicians play alpenhorns.”
“Is that the thing that look like a dude smoking the world’s longest pipe?”
“Exactly.” Suddenly I was worried. “Please, Parker, it’ll be fun. And I… I… I don’t want to go by myself.” There. I’d said it.
He turned to me. “I don’t think there’d be spiders up that high.”
“It’s not that.” I sighed and looked out over the water. “It’s just… more fun doing those kinds of things with a friend. With someone you… are friends with.” God. I’d almost said ‘with someone you care about.’ If I had, he might’ve jumped overboard and swam for shore.
He looked back over the lake again, his hands gripping the railing tightly. “So it’s a boat ride and then a train?”
