Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
CLOVER
What kind of menace to society plans a hot-air balloon as a date? Janine Weavers, that’s who. There are not enough waivers in the world for me to be convinced this is safe.
“It looks like a glorified bird’s nest,” I hiss under my breath to Roman.
We stare at the small wicker basket in front of us, and the grinning guide trying to convince us it’s safer than it appears.
To his credit, Armando seems like he knows his stuff.
It’s the whole apparatus itself I’m not sold on.
The fabric of the balloon is made up of patches of color, giving the deadly activity a deceptively fun look, and the wicker basket looks small and rickety.
Not nearly secure enough to be sailing thousands of feet in the air.
Plus, it’s awfully tight quarters to be in with Roman after what we did last night.
Heat flashes through me and pressure builds between my legs when I think about how hard he made me come.
Roman takes a step forward toward the balloon, and my hand darts out, grabbing him by the forearm and holding him there. Is he insane?
“Scared, Sparky?” he whispers in my ear.
“Anyone with survival instincts would be.”
“We don’t have to do it,” he adds, placing his hand atop the one I’ve got death-gripping him. His thumb rubs a soothing circle on the back of my hand.
But when I look back, I can see other people observing us as they wait to board a balloon nearby.
They’ve clearly clocked that Roman Everett is here, and I don’t want to give anyone a reason to report anything back to the press about us.
Lord knows, us pulling out of this at the last minute would probably turn into some headline about how we stiffed a small business.
Trying to swallow down the fear that’s building in my chest, I shake my head.
“No. I can do this.”
“I’ll let you hold my hand if you need,” Roman teases. Little does he know, I may need to take him up on that.
As we step into the basket, Armando beams.
“Welcome aboard, please keep your arms and legs inside the structure.”
“No problem,” I squeak. It’ll be a miracle if I don’t plant my ass on the floor of this thing for the entire flight.
After a minute or two, Armando has us lifting into the air. A sense of vertigo seizes me as I watch the people on the ground get smaller and smaller. I think I might throw up if I keep staring at them.
“Hey,” Roman steps behind me, pulling me back to his warm chest. The sensation grounds me despite the heights we’re soaring to. “I’m right here.”
It shouldn’t make me feel better. But it does. Having him hold me and hearing his voice gives me a tether. A shiver rolls through me at being this close to him.
“Close your eyes, I’ve got you.”
A couple of minutes go by, and I’m becoming increasingly comfortable with staring at the floor of the basket when Roman lets out a soft “wow.” I slowly lift my eyes to see what he’s looking at, and my stomach bottoms out when I see how far up we are as the lush hills slowly move past us below.
It has to be one of the most breathtaking things I’ve ever seen in my life, but it also scares me shitless.
“Easy there, Sparky,” Roman laughs and draws a smooth circle on my back with his hand.
I’m clasping his other arm so hard I feel bad.
Just not bad enough to actually loosen my grip.
“You’ve got this,” he whispers. And I’m sure it’s because Armando is on board with us, but he also presses a kiss to the top of my head.