CHAPTER 8
THE DATE
***
Madison
I didn’t expect nervous jitters to get the best of me, but minutes before Zach is due to arrive, I’m a mess with sweaty palms and pits. How could I not be after the night we spent together? Of course, he arrives to pick me up looking effortlessly casual in a flannel shirt and jeans. A genuine smile lights up his face, putting my butterflies at ease.
“Ready for some fun?” He leans in and kisses my cheek.
My heart instantly revs to full throttle. So much for playing it cool.
“Absolutely,” I reply in a higher pitch than usual. Zach’s grin widens, and another wave of acrobatic flutters grips my insides.
He escorts me to his car. It’s nothing flashy, considering the contract he has with the Saints. Not that I snooped around his bank account. His salary is a matter of public record and part of the press dossier I received ahead of the first day of public practice. I like that Zach is down to earth, walking around like a mere mortal and not some superstar athlete. His chivalry and modesty make him that more attractive in my eyes.
Zach drives us to the local fall festival–a Sable Creek annual event filled with rides, games, and live music. It’s late Saturday afternoon with crisp autumn air and a throng of people milling about the fair’s stalls enjoying sweater weather, knee-high boots, and everything pumpkin spice.
We wander the festival, stopping to throw darts at balloons, toss rings on bottles, and shoot tin cups with air guns. No surprise, I’m better at downing giant pretzels smothered in cheese than I am at throwing metal projectiles with dangerously sharp, pointy tips.
Zach far exceeds his athletic reputation, winning a giant teddy for me after sinking puck after puck into the goal at an electronic hockey game. All I have to show for my efforts are a broken nail and the most gorgeous man in all of Sable Creek offering me his arm as we wander through the crowd. I call that a win.
The sun begins to set, casting a golden glow over the festival. We meander past rides meant for daredevils and risk-takers. I, for one, am not a fan of spinning in circles upside down at warp speed. Nor is it wise after downing cheesy pretzels, cotton candy, and a giant cola. But when we find ourselves at the end of the game strip with the Ferris wheel looking out over the lake, the urge to see the view from on high gets the better of me.
“Step right up, folks. Experience the view and a gentle breeze as you soar high above the carnival,” the ride operator pitches to the crowd, then singles us out. “Romantic ride for two? I’ll make it the ride of a lifetime.”
“Up for it?” I nudge Zach toward the gate, but he’s less than enthusiastic.
“I’m not really a heights kinda guy.” He tilts his head back, eyeing the top of the Ferris wheel.
“Zach Brooks. Are you afraid of heights?” I tease. Finally, I have a competitive edge.
“Of course not.” His brow wrinkles, and I swear his skin pales a shade lighter. “It just doesn’t look safe, is all.”
“Safer than the highway and slower than a grandma wandering around on a Sunday afternoon,” the carnival worker cuts in.
“Safer than slamming into the boards on ice skates with a rival breathing down your back,” I snicker. “I promise I’ll protect you.”
“Promise?” He cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “And hold my hand?”
“And I’ll hold your hand.” A tiny burst of glee ripples through me. This is small potatoes, but Zach trusts me.
We leave the giant teddy bear at the gate and climb into one of the brightly colored cars. As promised, I hold Zach’s hand while he grips the bar with his other hand. The wheel turns, lifting us backward into the air. Sable Creek and the lake stretch into the distance below us, with the sky a breathtaking swath of pinks, golds, and baby blues. I wiggle my feet, causing the car to rock. Zach tightens his grip, and I get the feeling holding my hand isn’t a ruse. He really is uncomfortable with heights.
“The view’s amazing.” I snuggle closer to him, enjoying the closeness but also distracting him as we continue to rise.
“It is,” Zach agrees, but when I glance up at him, he’s looking at me, not the view.
My cheeks flush, slightly embarrassed by his focused attention. The car sways in the gentle yet cool breeze, and I shiver.
“Cold?” He releases my hand and wraps his arm around my shoulder.
“A little.” I scoot closer, leaning into his side with my hand perched on his thick thigh.
He surprises me when he loosens his grip on the bar and slips his fingers between mine. A rush of warmth spreads through me like wildfire in a drought. The wheel halts when we reach the top, the view spreading out before us for miles. The sounds of laughter and music fade into the background, leaving us in our own private bubble on top of the world.
“I would have missed this view if it weren’t for you,” Zach says, breaking the quiet. “Thanks for suggesting it.”
“You’re not regretting it?” I ask as the car sways in the breeze. “I thought you were kidding about not wanting to ride. I shouldn’t have insisted.”
“No, I’m glad you did.” He draws a ridiculously dizzying circle on my shoulder with his finger. “Nothing wrong with pushing our comfort boundaries.”
The deeper meaning behind the sentiment isn’t lost on me. Any niggling worry that Zach is anything like what I’ve experienced in the past is gone. He’s right. Risking a chance is the only thing that can drive us forward.
And it’s driving me slowly but surely, madly in love with him.
***
Zach
I’m true to my word about keeping our date free of expectations with no strings attached, at least on the surface. I want plenty from Madison, but my attraction to her goes well beyond physical. For some reason, getting outside the arena with her helps build a true camaraderie that has nothing to do with news stories and sports.
After our date, I walk her to her door. She fiddles with her keys in no apparent hurry to get inside. We stand on her stoop in the cool breeze, stretching out our goodbye. The tension surrounding us builds, thick as it hangs in the air. An electric charge hums between us. Madison steps forward, her chest brushing against mine. The zing that whips through my body is fierce and fiery hot.
She rises on her toes, meeting my lips with a soft, tentative kiss. I let her lead, giving her the power to take things where she wants to go. My heart races as she leans into me, the scraps of cloth between us a barrier that does little to temper the desire building in my veins. The kiss deepens, and I feel the spark between us clear to my toes.
I grab her waist and fist the hem of her shirt in my hands, needing something to hold onto so I don’t go off half-cocked. Madison wraps her arms around my neck, lacing her fingers through my hair. My scalp tingles and my cock reacts with a violent jolt, knocking against her stomach with a deep, throbbing ache. She moans against my lips, rattling my soul. I dig my fingers into the upper curve of her ass, my gentlemanly resolve holding on by a thread.
Her eyes flutter open as she pulls away from the kiss. I’m breathless, fire burning my lungs. I rest my forehead on hers, regaining my composure. A mix of exhilaration and disbelief wash over me. In all my years, a woman’s never affected me like Madison. Head to toe, heart to brain, fingertip to fingertip. She’s got me hanging by a thread, unraveling by the second.
“Wow,” she whispers.
“Yeah,” I agree, awestruck by her soft lips, brilliant eyes, and how my heart swells when she’s near. I brush my thumb across her cheek. “You’re incredible, Madison.”
The chemistry between us is undeniable, the air charged with hope and unspoken desire. We stand on her doorstep for a moment longer, the world and all its minutia fading to nothingness. For a fleeting moment, it’s just the two of us, caught in a perfect, electrifying moment. But I’m well aware of my promise to keep tonight expectation-free.
“I should go in.” Madison tilts her head, eyeing me with those chameleon eyes of hers. She weaves a certain kind of magic over me, the kind that stops me in my tracks. “Unless you want to–”
I capture her lips, hungry and desperate for her, my resolve broken. Her heartbeat quickens against my chest, spurring mine to a gallop. My heart pounds erratically, bruising my ribs. The kiss is intense, desperate, and full of heat. My hands rove her curves as she presses against me, our reckless behavior on full display for anyone to see.
When we finally pull apart this time, we’re both breathless. My lungs burn as I gasp for air.
“There’s something about you. I can’t stop thinking about you,” I murmur, my voice husky. “The way your eyes dance when you laugh, the way your hair bounces along your shoulders when you walk, and the way you taste when we kiss.”
“I feel the same about you, Zach,” she whispers back as she traces the edge of my jaw with her fingertip. “What are we going to do about it? At the end of the day, I’m still me, and you’re still you.”
“I don’t know.” It’s difficult to wrap my head around the fact that I’ve fallen for someone, especially a reporter. But I can’t deny my racing pulse when she’s near or how my mind goes down the rabbit hole fantasizing about her when we’re apart. “But I don’t want to stop.”
“Neither do I.” She smiles, and her glimmering eyes dance under the moonlight. She dangles her key between us. “Come inside, Zach.”
I take a deep breath and eye the keys, symbolic in a way, opening a door of opportunity I never thought possible. “Are you sure? I don’t want to rush things.”
Madison tips on her toes and brushes her lips against mine, slow and tender. “We’ve got all night to take things nice and slow.”
She jiggles her keys again, and I can’t help but hope she’s offering me more than entrance to her apartment. I want the key to her heart.