Chapter 14 #2
The ground falls away beneath us, the farm shrinking into a patchwork of pumpkins, hay bales, and cornfields.
Beyond it, rolling hills stretch out into a fiery sea of autumn foliage.
The air feels cooler up here, crisp and carrying the faint scent of leaves and earth.
It’s breathtaking, but the growing distance between me and the ground is enough to make my knees tremble.
I cling tighter to the basket’s edge, trying to focus on anything other than how far we’re climbing.
But as we get higher, panic grows like a massive wave inside me. I look to Mr. Gerald, expecting him to be panicking, but he continues to ignore me and Bash, completely focused on operating the balloon.
And then the basket jerks as a gust of wind hits us.
No, no, no.
By instinct, I grab onto Bash. I grip his sweater in iron-tight fists and try to steady my breathing.
Bash must be surprised, because it takes him a moment to stop laughing and put his massive arms around me.
He pulls me against him tight enough for me to feel the warmth of his skin through his clothes.
The contrast between his body heat and the chilly autumn air makes me shiver.
“Okay, I’m trying not to be a baby right now, but I’m scared,” I say. Admitting it makes me want to cry, not at all helping my mission to not be a baby. “Ugh. I hate that I’m scared right now.”
Bash rubs his hand across my back in soothing circles.
“It’s all right, I promise.” His voice is a low murmur, tickling my ear.
It’s annoying how safe I feel wrapped in his strong arms like this.
Even though we’re miles above ground in a teetering basket with no one but Mr. Gerald to steer us, I’ve never felt more secure.
And then the basket jerks again. I force down a sob. I think I might faint. “Can you distract me?” I ask.
“How?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “I don’t know. Anything. Please.”
He’s silent for a moment. I peek up at him, not expecting his gaze to connect with mine. His bright blue eyes take me in, searching my face. “I could always kiss you. I’ve been told the feel of my lips is quite distracting.”
I laugh nervously. “What?”
“I bet it would work.”
“And I bet it wouldn’t.”
He arches a brow, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “Is that a challenge?”
“No.” I lower my voice. “I’m not kissing you with my dad’s friend a foot away.” But part of me has wondered what it would be like to kiss him, and the idea of doing it right now is more nerve-wracking than tumbling out of this balloon basket.
“Fine. Come here.” Bash reaches for my face, leaning in close.
“What are you doing?”
“Shh. Let me distract you. I won’t kiss you, I promise.”
I close my eyes, still clinging to him as his nose grazes mine. His soft breath tickles my face, minty and spiced.
My heart thunders as his lips brush across my forehead, not in a kiss but a simple touch.
My brain is both desperate for more and fully incredulous at the situation.
And then his thumb caresses my cheek. Nerves race through me like wildfire, mingling with desire and spreading through my veins too quickly to control.
It’s delightful.
Dizzying.
Dangerous.
I let go of Bash’s sweater and bring my hands up to his chest. My knees wobble when his fingers gently comb through my tresses. The sensation feels too good to be true.
“You have the softest hair,” he whispers in my ear. His thumb traces little comforting circles on the base of my neck.
And then the basket we’re standing in tilts too much for my liking. Bash grabs onto me to keep me from stumbling. He shoots Mr. Gerald a glare, but the elderly man remains oblivious.
Below us, the farm comes back into view as the balloon begins to return to the ground.
Mr. Gerald adjusts the burners, releasing bursts of heat to control the speed of our descent.
Bash keeps his arms loosely around me, his touch casual now, as if that embrace didn’t just flip my entire world upside down.
The landing is smoother than I expect, the basket brushing against a soft patch of hay before coming to a stop.
The ground crew hurries to steady it, waving us forward as Mr. Gerald lowers the balloon’s envelope.
As soon as we land, Mr. Gerald regards me with a nod and a twinkle in his eye, like he was paying more attention to the way I was holding onto Bash than I thought.
At least I didn’t kiss him. My face burns when I imagine Mr. Gerald reporting the details of this event back to my dad at one of their poker nights.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bash teases, his grin crooked and maddeningly charming as he helps me step out.
I give him a look. “Says the guy who didn’t spend half the ride panicking.”
He smirks. “At least I distracted you.”
Thinking about the soothing way he touched me causes another round of butterflies to flutter through my veins like they don’t have a care in the world. “Okay, fine. Your tactics may have worked.”
He arches an eyebrow. “What kind of first date would this be if I let you die of fear?”
“First date? Who said anything about this being a date?”
“I did.” He takes my hand again and swings it between us. “Just now.”
I don’t know how he does it. He’s so irresistible, even for me. And that’s exactly the problem. I’m having a hard time keeping my head intact, the more time I spend with him. And the worst part is…right now I don’t even care. “What are we doing next?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Our hands loosely connect as we wander past the farm’s pumpkin patch, where rows of orange globes catch the late-afternoon light like little suns. The air smells faintly of hay and cider, and a breeze picks up through the tall cornstalks we approach.
Bash stops us at the entrance of the “haunted corn maze” the Owens family, who live on the ranch, put on every year.
I take a step back. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t do haunted things.”
Bash’s mouth falls open in amusement. “You can’t possibly believe this nonsense of a maze is actually haunted.”
“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I’m going in.”
“Romilly, you’re exploring this maze with me. You must.”
“It’s not happening.” I cross my arms.
“I insist.”
“No way, Bash.”
He looks like he’s having trouble not laughing. That’s fine. He can laugh all he wants.
“I’m easily spooked, okay?”
That does it. The laughter escapes his mouth for a split second before he reins it back in. “Teenagers put this thing together. You do know that, right? And God is way bigger than anything that could hurt you.”
“I know that.”
“Besides, you’ll have a professional fighter at your side. So, I’ll ask again. Will you please do me the honor of exploring this pathetic and possibly very haunted corn maze with me?”
He extends his hand.
Lord…please protect me in there. Send me every angel you can spare. I sigh. “I hope your dragon-slaying skills are also cross-compatible with ghost-busting.”