Chapter 7
Reed
Punching another man was not on my itinerary for today, but if this motherfucker didn’t back off, I would happily add it.
I glued myself to my seat, using every ounce of my control not to knock the adventure guide off the boat.
He was strapping Cici’s harness on, completely oblivious or unempathetic to her eyes glistening and her body shaking despite the warm sun casting golden rays on her skin and making the lighter parts of her hair shimmer.
It was Baretta who made the first move to help her, and that made me feel like a total ass. Rather than wanting to pummel the man torturing my girl—well, Cici—she took the more rational route of offering comfort.
“I know it’s scary at first,” she whispered to Cici, rubbing her shoulder. “But it’s worth it once you see the beauty around us from that glorious height.” Rather than relaxing, Cici squinted hard, and her teeth lashed out against her lower lip, swiping back and forth.
“How high?” She looked to Baretta, then me, then the parasailing instructor.
“Oh, about five hundred feet.” Of course it was Vivian who answered. Her voice was anything but reassuring. “I read that it’s as high as a fifty-story building.”
“Seriously?” Cici’s eyes bounced again, this time from Vivian to Baretta, then to the tour guide, and then me.
I wanted so badly to tell her that it wasn’t true, and that fucking Vivian didn’t have her facts straight.
But she was right. We’d be flying that high, something that normally wouldn’t faze me at all.
“Mm-hmm, like one and a half football fields high.” Vivian’s snark was coming on strong now, and I changed my mind. It was her I wanted to throw off the boat.
I turned to her, seething, “If you make one more backhanded comment to my girlfriend, I’m going to throw you to the sharks.”
“Sh-sh-sharks?”
Oh fuck. Wrong thing to say.
Cici’s voice was getting smaller and shakier each time she spoke, and Vivian had the audacity to smile coyly and lick her lips in my direction.
The last click of the harness sounded, and I launched in front of Cici before the guide could take two steps away.
An accidental man overboard would definitely halt this adventure and put my girl out of her misery.
Fuck, stop calling her your girl, you idiot.
Regardless of the footage I needed to get, no photos were worth seeing this ray of sunshine endure torment.
I touched my forehead to hers and imagined siphoning every horrible scenario running through her mind.
Her glistening dark eyes peered up at me.
She was chewing her poor lower lip raw. I’d wanted to kiss her countless times in the last twenty-four hours, and now the temptation to give her mouth something else to do was strong, but I held back.
Instead, I brought the pad of my thumb to her plump lip, easing the red streaks her chewing made on the otherwise sweet pink skin.
She froze. The shivering stopped. The desperate nibbling ceased. And her stare latched on to mine before she squeezed her eyes shut. For a moment, we merely stood there, my thumb holding back her quivering. Then she dipped her head down, resting it on my chest.
I traced circles at the nape of her neck and felt her rapid breathing slow through my shirt.
“We don’t have to go. It’s okay.”
“?Estas listo para ir?” The guide held out my harness.
I shook my head and pushed it away. “Nosotros decidimos no ir.”
“No, no!” Her eyes were shimmering pools, but determination crackled behind them. “Si, I’m ready.” She reached for the guide and nudged my hip. “I’m fine,” she whispered, her voice still breathy and weak, but the tone radiated assurance.
The man prepped and geared me, and we were moved to the stern and attached the seat pads to our harnesses.
As we sat down, side by side, preparing to launch, the determination in Cici’s set jaw contradicted her clenched fist. I laced her fingers in mine with a squeeze, and her eyes fixed on our hands as the guide approached and asked, “?Listo?”
She turned to him and nodded. Moments later, we both clung to our harnesses as the boat’s engine revved, and whoosh, we went.
Cici’s chest heaved, tightening against her restraints as we rose.
With fists squeezed closed, she gripped her chest straps, her knuckles turning white.
Her riser was right next to mine, connecting us, so I cupped my hand over hers, and her eyes blinked open.
They darted down, and she gasped, looking like she couldn’t suck enough air in.
I reached for her chin and turned her gaze to mine.
“Look at me, don’t look down.” I exaggerated my slow and steady breaths. “Just look at me.”
She pursed her lips and fixed her gaze on me, nodding a few times. Soft skin kissed my thumb as I brushed it against her cheek and smiled. Leaning into my touch, not peeling her eyes from mine, she steadied her breaths and loosened her lips.
I took the hand that was clutching her chest strap and held it with mine, secured on our risers. She looked up at where our hands and harnesses connected and took a deep breath. Then she slowly turned her gaze to the side.
“Wow.” The word was more like a breath, but the sound released my pent-up tension.
She was okay. We sat quietly, soaking in the view and warmth of the sun.
I needed to get my camera out soon, but I remained as still as possible, not wanting to jolt Cici out of her comfort zone.
With slow, subtle movements, I tugged down my sunglasses, concealing my long stares while I watched her experience the scenery.
The blue water below, white waves rippling.
As we drifted toward one of Cabo San Lucas’s main attractions, Cici’s hand loosened under mine.
A smile finally curved her lips before she pointed to the sand formations to our right. I leaned into her and wrapped my arm around her shoulder. “That is El Arco.” I pointed toward the side of the bay she was admiring. “And that is Playa del Amor.”
“Lover’s Beach?”
God, her grin is gorgeous.
With a nod and a wink, I pulled a giggle from her as her face lit up.
Her head tilted back, and the breeze swept her hair around.
It was a breathtaking scene. If I was editing a photo of this moment, I wouldn’t change a thing.
The way her vibrance collided with the golden sun balanced the saturation perfectly.
Making sure not to rock too much, I pulled out the small GoPro camera from the equipment secured to my chest and attached the extender. Normally, these were the moments I lived for, but for once, I wanted to live in this picture, not capture it.
Through the viewer, I saw her head tip toward mine, and her brilliant smile radiated straight to my heart, making it thump in my chest. The shutter snapped repeatedly before I pulled it back in.
“It’s so tiny,” she said, staring at the camera in my lap.
I scoffed, “Well, that’s presumptuous of you.”
She blushed but brought the sass back with an eye roll. “Does it take tiny pictures?” She lifted a brow, and if I couldn’t feel how tight her grip was above mine on the riser, I’d think she was as relaxed as if her seat were a park swing.
“Hasn’t anyone told you size doesn’t matter? It knows how to do the job.”
She giggled, letting her chest drop, which caused her harness to pull forward. She startled upright with a grimace and clung to her chest straps.
The harnesses jerked when I moved my leg and hooked it behind hers, then grabbed her hand, linking us together. She stiffened at first, then squeezed my hand and looked around again.
With my other hand, I moved my camera arm around, capturing pictures of the view surrounding me. Then I rotated the camera and snuck some of Cici, hair breezy, wonder in her eyes.
When I knew our time in the air was ending. I checked the viewer in my camera to make sure I had what I needed for my assignment. Every shot was perfection, but none of them compared to the series of shots of Cici smiling into the sun.
The urge to kiss her was consuming, and what would be more romantic than a breathtaking kiss to end a breathtaking adventure.
I leaned in and tugged her hand toward me.
She turned her face, and there was no mistaking the way her head inched closer.
Our noses touched, and I smiled, ready to feel her lips after what felt like forever.
But then we unexpectedly lurched forward, and my stomach plummeted. My glare shot up, and the guide waved at us from the boat. Time to go in. Moment over. Thanks, dude.
The space between Cici and I felt further than it had during the entire ride through the sky, as if that rope lurch was a parent walking in on us and we jumped apart. The way down to the boat was quiet, but I wanted to make sure our spark didn’t leave us when we left the air.
She let out a yelp as I pulled her close to me, enough to speak in her ear without yelling. “Please tell me I didn’t miss my only opportunity to kiss you.” My voice was soft, borderline pleading.
She side-eyed me with a grin and shook her head. “We’ll see.”
And that was all I needed to count this adventure a success—and a beautiful beginning.