by Mia Madison
“I used to jump out of planes.”
“You did? But you wouldn’t even come watch the paragliders today.”
“That was before this fear. Or maybe… the cause of it.”
“Did they make you jump?”
“No. I could’ve applied for one of the airborne units, but that wasn’t my thing. But at this one base I was at—it was toward the end of my career, so maybe five or six years ago, there was a jump club and I joined. Went twice and loved it. The view from up there was amazing. And then the third time… it didn’t quite go as planned.”
“What happened?” I wished so much I could go sit by him, but I know that would rock the boat, or, to be more precise, the gondola.
“The third time, the main chute wouldn’t open. I had to deploy the backup chute, and for about ten long seconds, I thought it wasn’t going to open at all. It was… bad. I think that’s when it all started though it took a while before the fear to really built up some steam. I was even going to jump again, but I got transferred. And by the time I got to the next base, I was already starting to get a little apprehensive when I was up high.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s no worse—or better—than your thing with spiders. A fear is a fear.”
“And fear sucks.”
Parker stared at me for a moment, and then chuckled.
“What?”
“You never use language like that. You’re always such a good little girl.”
“Until today,” I said.
“Until today,” he agreed. “What you did up there on that platform… you shocked the hell out of me.”
“Out of myself, too.”
“Why’d you do it?”
Because I wanted to.
Because you needed it.
Because I want you so badly it keeps me up at night.
All of those answers passed through my mind but I couldn’t decide on the safest one. They were all true, but they weren’t all smart things to say out loud. Nor was the thing I really wanted to ask him—if this was just a one-time thing or if it could be the start of something more.
Though I desperately wanted to know, it wasn’t a fair question to hit him with right now. Not when we were still up in the air. He was coping, but I could tell by the way he held himself that this wasn’t easy for him.
Seemingly aware of my inner turmoil, Parker made an effort to soften his expression. “It’s okay, Lanie. You don’t have to answer. I’m grateful. I thought I was going to be stuck up there until tomorrow, and instead, that ride down… well, let’s say I never thought I’d enjoy myself while dangling from a Goddamn wire like a pair of tennis shoes hanging from a telephone line.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. It was a pretty weird analogy. After a moment, he broke into a smile. “I guess that’s a pretty strange image.”
At long last the gondola ride ended, and the rest of the evening went by in a blur. I’d hoped we’d go out to dinner together, but it took us a long time to locate the right bus to get back to Lucerne proper, and by then I wasn’t feeling so well. Parker said it was likely because of the change in altitude. “Plus you spent so long running through the mountains chasing dragons this morning—that’s bound to wear anyone out.”
“But it’s our last night in Lucerne.” Part of me really wanted to go to dinner with him, but he was right, I was exhausted.
“You should get some sleep. Our train leaves early tomorrow morning. We’ll eat somewhere nice tomorrow night in Zermatt.”
“But—“
“Get some sleep,” Parker said more firmly. “That’s an order.”
I smiled at that. Fear of heights or not, he was still a soldier deep inside.
“Sleep well,” he said, after walking me to my room. “And don’t worry about tonight. We’ve still got half our trip left. We’re just getting started.”
As I shut the door behind me, I wondered about that. Did he mean just getting started on our trip? Or just getting started with this thing—if there was a thing—between us?
I hoped with all my heart it was the latter.
Lanie
The next morning, I woke up feeling unexpectedly happy. It took me a moment to figure out why. When it hit me, warmth flooded my body. I’d kissed Parker. Really kissed him. It had been the most amazing kiss of my life—not that I’d had that many. Frowning, I thought about it for a minute. I’d kissed one boy in high school and two in college. That wasn’t a lot. And they’d been boys—Parker was a man.
When I closed my eyes, I could still feel the way his hard body had fit so well against mine. The feeling of my breasts smashed against his chest had made my heart rate skyrocket. I wondered how much better it would’ve felt if we hadn’t had all those layers of clothes between us?
And God, when he’d pushed my hand up above my head and made me hold onto the pole, it had turned me on so much. Especially when pinned my hand up there with his own. A vision of him pinning me down to a bed filled me. Jeesh, at the rate I was going, I was going to need a cold shower before I met him for breakfast.
Thirty minutes later, I found him sitting at a corner table of the large room that hosted a modest complimentary spread for guests. Parker rose as I neared, which made me flush, but then there was an awkward moment where I thought he was leaning forward to kiss me on the check. Consequently, I turned my face and offered my cheek to him, but he’d only been trying to hold my chair for me.
Hmm… I’d thought that after the things we’d done on the cable car yesterday, I would’ve lost my awkwardness around him, but apparently that wasn’t the case.
I got a plate of food from the buffet at the same time Parker got seconds. “No bacon?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow at his plate.
“No, but there’s Prosciutto.” He piled his plate high with thin meat slices, cheese, and bread.
While I ate, he sat next to me and assembled four sandwiches.
“Wow, you just be hungry.”
“They’re for later. The train to Zermatt is four hours long. You never know what they’ll have on the snack bar.”
“That’s smart.”
“I’ve seen people do this at other hotels in Europe. I don’t think it’s frowned upon the way it is in the US.”
Parker carefully wrapped up the sandwiches in napkins, and then asked me if I had room in my backpack for them. I did—but only if I took my purse out of it.
“That should be okay,” he said. “I’ll carry your suitcase, so you’ll just have your backpack and purse.”
For some reason, this all felt very domestic. Planning our meals together. Deciding who would carry what. It felt like a partnership. But I still wondered what kind of partnership it was. Just friends? More than that? And if so, how much more? Did Parker now see me as something other than his kid sister’s best friend? Or had our make-out session just been a one-time thing for him to help him get back down the mountain?
I wanted to know, but I wasn’t sure how to find out. I didn’t get any ideas as the morning progressed, and it was a little frustrating as we checked out and then walked toward the train station.
Parker’s long strides out-paced mine even though he had his duffle bag and my suitcase, and all I had was my pack and my purse.
Once in the station, he quickly located our platform. As I followed him, my purse strap suddenly slid off my shoulder. Trying to grab it before it fell, I was caught off guard when a strong yank, nearly pulling me off my feet. Before my mind could completely process what was going on, I saw a hand pulling my purse away.
My passport! A shriek left my mouth as I tried to grab my purse before it disappeared into the crowd. But before I could even move, a large shape appeared in front of me, depositing my suitcase at my feel with a lightning-fast moment I could barely follow with my eyes.
Parker’s large hand clamped down on the thief’s arm, then twisted upward. There was a shout, and the guy released my purse. Quicker than quick, Parker caught my purse in his other hand
and gave the guy who’d tried to steal it a mighty shove. I caught a glimpse of a scrawny young man, his eyes wide with fear darting away.
“Here you go.” Parker handed me my purse as I stared at him in shock. He’d acted so quickly. He’d retrieved my purse, made sure my suitcase was safe, and kept hold of his own duffel the entire time.
“Thank you,” I said, with a little bit of awe in my voice.
“You’re welcome.” As we set off again, he stood at my side so that my purse was between us. And he was careful to slow his steps enough so that he didn’t get too far ahead of me.
After we got settled on the train, I couldn’t get the incident out of my mind. Parker was so strong. So fast and agile. He was hot, gorgeous, and a genuine hero. There was no way he could be interested in someone young and inexperienced like me. Yesterday must have been just a one-time thing.
In spite of that depressing thought, I couldn’t help but enjoy the train ride. As we got closer and closer to the small mountain town of Zermatt, the scenery got better and better. We were really in the Alps now, and some of the mountains on either side of the tracks had snow on top of them, even though it was June.
Since his fear of heights wasn’t a factor, Parker enjoyed the views, too. Sometimes we’d sit side by side in contented silence, contemplating the scenery. Other times, we’d point out things we saw such as sheep on a hillside or a beautiful little waterfall. And for half an hour—a thirty-minute period that made me very happy—he put his arm around my shoulders and I leaned my head against it.
Once we arrived in Zermatt, I was surprised to see a bunch of little trucks the size of golf carts.
“I thought you said there weren’t any cars allowed here,” Parker commented.
“I guess those don’t count.” They seemed to be mostly filled with luggage, delivering heavy suitcases to nearby hotels. But I didn’t need anything like that—I had a very strong man at my side.
The hotel was a ten-minute walk down into the heart of Zermatt. I kept tripping over things because I couldn’t take my eyes off the views. Mountains rose up on all sides of the valley, but in front of us, partially covered by clouds, was the most majestic one of all: The Matterhorn.
It was breathtaking.
The hotel was nestled between what looked to be normal houses and apartment buildings. Parker stepped up to the counter and said, “We have a reservation under the name Grant.”
I joined him at the counter and smiled at the cheerful young woman who was pulling up our reservation in the computer.
“I found three rooms. A single, a double, and a suite.”
“Right. But we just need the first two. Some other members of our party couldn’t make it.”
“So it’s just the two of you?” She looked from me to Parker and back again.
“Yes,” Parker said briefly.
“In that case, I suggest you take the suite.”
I flushed. “Oh, but we’re not…” I trailed off. I’d started to say that we weren’t together, but I couldn’t get the words out because while it was true, I wished it weren’t.
The young woman assessed us carefully. “I would still recommend the suite. It’s got a living room, a small kitchenette, two bathrooms, and two beds. But most importantly, it’s got a large balcony with the best view of the Matterhorn in the whole hotel. I think you’ll really like it.”
Parker looked over at me. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but I nodded enthusiastically. It sounded great to me.
“We’ll take it,” he said.
“That’s great,” she said. “And is it okay if I release the other two rooms? We have several people on a waiting list.”
We agreed, and a few minutes later, we were on the balcony, mesmerized by the view. Parker had both hands on the rail and was staring at the triangle-shaped peak of the Matterhorn in the distance. A thin strip of clouds obscured part of the left side of the mountain, but otherwise it was crystal clear. And glorious.
I moved up next to him, our arms touching as we took in the gorgeous scenery. After a long moment, I looked up at him. “This doesn’t bother you? The height?”
He scoffed. “We’re only on the third floor. If I needed to, I could jump down to that balcony,” he pointed to one on the second floor of a nearby building, “And then lower myself to the ground. It’s a far cry from that cable car from hell yesterday.”
Perhaps this was my chance to figure out where he stood with what we’d done on the cable car. “Yesterday wasn’t all bad, was it?”
Parker frowned and said, “That’s never going to happen again.”
I turned away, stung. He meant the cable car, not kissing me. Right? I was ninety percent sure that’s what he meant, but it hurt nonetheless.
It wasn’t until I started to get a little cold that we came back inside and explored the rest of the suite. It turned out that the kind young woman at the front desk had exaggerated a bit. Either that or these kinds of room amenities were viewed differently in the US and Europe.
There was a living room, but the kitchenette consisted of a dorm-sized refrigerator, a tiny sink, and a small toaster oven. She’d said there were two bathrooms, but all we could find was a bathroom off the bedroom. Finally, we opened a small door off the living room, which we’d taken to be a closet, and discovered that it had a small toilet in it and a sink that was barely big enough to wash both hands at once.
But the real problem was the bed.
“Hmm…” Parker said as he and I stared at the Queen-sized bed in the room off the living room. “Maybe she’s not very good at counting.”
“This is ridiculous. She said there were two beds.” My tone was more bewildered than angry.
After a few more minutes, we realized that the small sofa in the living room opened up to a sofa sleeper with a thin and lumpy mattress.
Parker stared at it for a long moment, and then reassembled the sofa back to its original state. “At least she was correct about the balcony. It is amazing.”
“Yeah. But we can’t sleep out there.” Though I half wanted to. The view was that incredible, though it wouldn’t be at night.
Sighing, Parker said, “I’ll sleep on it like this. It looks slightly more comfortable than when it’s folded out.”
“I’ll sleep there. I’m shorter than you—your legs would never fit.”
“No, you take the bed.”
“Parker, it’s simple. I’m smaller than you, so I take the smaller place to sleep. You’re bigger than me, so you take the bigger bed.”
“I can’t do that. Look at that this thing—you’ll be miserable all night.”
“So would you,” I shot back. Chivalry was one thing, but this was the most logical solution. Not that I was looking forward to two nights on the sofa.
“Shit,” Parker said, and walked back into the bedroom. “We shouldn’t have given up those other rooms.”
Suddenly, this seemed silly. “Let’s both sleep on the bed.”
He stared at me wordlessly for moment.
“What? Claire and I used to share a bed all the time when we had slumber parties.”
He was silent for another long moment and then the corner of his mouth twitched slightly upwards. “I think you may have overlooked a few differences between my baby sister and me.”
I fought back a smile. I was all too aware of those differences. I’d felt all of them pressed against me yesterday when I’d kissed him in the cable car. “Remember what you said to me on the bridge in Lucerne?”
“It’s just one little spider, don’t be afraid?”
I couldn’t help smiling at that. “No, not the part you were wrong about. The question you asked me.”
“If you trust me.”
I nodded. “And my answer was—and is—that I do.”
“Good to know,” he said evenly.
“Which means that we can do this. It’s a big bed. We won’t even know each other is there.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” He sat down
on the edge, his hands spread wide as if to assess the width of the mattress.
I pressed my point. “Think of it this way. Whoever sleeps on that sofa is going to be so crabby the next morning that the other one of us will probably kill them.”
“Good point, but—“
“But what? We’re adults. We’re friends. And I trust you. So what’s the problem?”
After a long moment, Parker nodded. “All right, so we’ll share the bed. Looks like we’re having a slumber party after wall. Will we have a pillow fight? And can I braid your hair?”
“Only if you let me braid yours first.”
Parker
She trusted me. That was good to know. Just one problem… I didn’t trust me. At least not around her.
I’d all but ravished her in the cable car yesterday. Sure, she’d started it, but that was just to distract me. And I’d repaid her kindness by turning it into a public groping.
She was a good friend, and she’d helped me out. In return, I’d pawed at her like a drunk frat boy.
I slammed my fist down on the counter in front of me. I was passing time in little bar near the hotel in order to give Lanie some privacy up in our room. We had dinner reservations at one of the nicest hotels in town, and I knew she wanted time to fix herself up. Which was the last thing I needed. She was tempting enough in her jeans and tee shirts.
Dammit. I hit the countertop again.
“Easy there, mate.” The bartender, who had obviously learned his English in Britain, slid another beer to me.
“Thanks,” I muttered, sounding anything but grateful.
What game was Lanie trying to play, suggesting we share a bed? Probably no game at all. She was just being her usual, good-natured, innocent self.
Innocent.
That was the crux of the problem. She was just too damn innocent about the effect she had on men. Not that it was her fault—it was ours. Well, actually, mine. Because I had no fucking business thinking the X-rated thoughts I did about her. She was a nice young woman in her early twenties. She had her whole life ahead of her, and she deserved a nice young man, not the black sheep of the family. Especially a dirty-minded black sheep who wanted to do all sorts of dirty things to her.
