Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
BELLAROSE
The zipline looms ahead of us, a series of wooden platforms connected by cables that disappear into the forest. My stomach performs a series of terrible cartwheels, and I’m thankful I didn’t have a chance to eat breakfast.
“You sure about this?” West asks, offering me an out.
“Nope. You?”
“Absolutely not.” We exchange smirks that are probably eighty percent bravado and twenty percent actual courage.
“If I die, please don’t let my mom sell my My Little Kitten collection for what I said it was worth.”
“I would never allow that to happen.” He takes my hand, not even teasing me about it.
“Which one, letting me die or letting my mom sell my collection?”
“Both.” He winks at me, which turns those cartwheels into butterflies. If only I had wings.
I eye the zipline check-in area. It isn’t busy, and I recognize most of the people hanging around. A woman with a clipboard spots West and waves us over.
“Mr. Hayes! We’re glad you can join us.” Her smile is professional, but her eyes dart between us, noticing our joined hands.
I’m sure she’s not the only one. How had it slipped my mind that I’m holding the CEO’s hand in front of everyone?
“I have you down for a solo tour. But I can add your…” Her brows rise. “Friend?”
“Yes,” West says, keeping his hold on my hand firm. “Bellarose Fontaine. She’s with me.”
With me. That sounds extra personal. It makes warmth bloom through my chest and down to other areas. It’s like I belong to him.
The woman checks a few things on her clipboard with a pen. “All right, we’re good for you two to begin. We’ll get you both harnessed up, then you’ll start at platform one.”
Platform one? How many platforms are there? I don’t have time to think about it before we’re being led to the equipment area. Fifteen minutes later, I’m strapped into a harness that digs into my thighs, making me feel like a plushie at Build-A-Bear that’s gotten too much stuffing.
West, however, doesn’t look ridiculous at all. In fact, he looks like he could be the one instructing the course. He could model for a photoshoot advertising the place. They’d be booked out solid for eternity.
“You’re sure this is safe?” I whisper as we follow our guide toward the first platform. She must overhear me because she answers my question.
“Statistically, you’re more likely to be injured by a vending machine,” she tells us, then pauses. “Shit, that probably doesn’t help.”
West is giving her a hard glare, but it is kind of funny.
“Well, that’s great. I thought the only thing to fear from a vending machine was generic fruit snacks and flavorless pretzels.”
I peek over at West, and my face must give away what I’m feeling on the inside even though I’m teasing.
West stops walking and turns to face me, his expression serious. “We can go back, get these ridiculous harnesses off, and find that candle-making class. I don’t care about a zipline. I care about you not being miserable. I want this to be fun.”
The sincerity in his voice relaxes me. He means exactly what he’s saying. West would do the walk of shame with me back to the stand to have the gear removed. Even with everyone knowing we chickened out.
“I want to do it,” I say. “With you.”
Something flickers in his expression. Relief, or maybe something like affection.
“Together?” he asks, and I nod.
“Together,” I agree.
“Then when we’re done I’ll find you Gushers and Cheez-Its.”
“I’m down with that.”
We climb the stairs together up to the first platform. The higher we go, the more my legs turn into jelly. West stays beside me, matching my pace, never rushing.
“You know, I don’t trust stairs. They’re always up to something.”
“What?” I snort a laugh.
“Just saying.” He shrugs. “But I have a confession.”
Oh shit. That’s never good. “What?”
“I’m not actually afraid of heights.”
“Seriously?!”
He gives me a sheepish expression. “I’m afraid of the sudden stop at the bottom.”
“Oh my god,” I laugh. “Have you been hanging out with my dad?”
I have to admit, West’s dad jokes are pretty good.
“Whatever works.” He motions to the platform, and I realize we made it to the top. I hadn’t noticed because I was too busy wrapped up in West’s silly jokes. He’s good, too good.
West steps closer, his gaze dropping to my harness. He reaches out, fingers brushing the straps at my shoulders, then following them down to where they clip at my waist. His touch is methodical, thorough, and sends a completely inappropriate thrill through my body.
“These look tight enough,” he mutters. He tugs at a strap near my hip, testing the give, then frowns. “Actually, let’s do another thorough check—”
“I can do that,” the platform guide Jake says, stepping forward. He’s maybe in his mid-twenties with sun-bleached hair.
Jake reaches for my harness, fingers hooking into the straps at my chest to check the tension. West’s expression shifts so fast I almost miss it. His shoulders go rigid, and his jaw tightens. When Jake moves to adjust the thigh straps, West clears his throat, and it’s a deliberate sound.
“That’s enough,” West says, and his voice has dropped deeper. It carries an edge I hadn’t heard before.
Jake pauses with his hands hovering next to my hips. His eyes go wide as he looks between us. “I thought you wanted me to…”
“I got it.” West steps between us, blocking Jake from my line of sight.
The next thing I know, West is checking the same straps and clips, but his movements are precise and possessive. “She’s good.”
Jake raises his eyebrows, looking between us. “Okay then. Now all I have to do is clip you both to the line.”
He demonstrates how the safety line works, and I’m grateful West is listening. His hands are still resting on my harness, his thumbs brushing absently against my hips like he can’t quite stop touching me. It makes it hard for me to pay attention to anything anyone is saying.
“Any questions?” Jake asks.
“Nope,” West says before I can answer. “We’re ready.”
Jake clips us in, then steps back. “The first one is the scariest. After that, it’s smooth sailing.
” I nod, but I’m not sure I fully believe him.
Nothing about this is going to be smooth.
But I got this. Maybe. Then he starts counting, and I know I’m literally out of time.
“On three, you’ll push off together. Keep your feet up until you hit the next platform. ”
He positions us at the edge, and the cable stretches out before me. My knees threaten to buckle as Jake counts us off.
“One,” Jake says.
“Why is it always on three?” I blurt out. I’m one hundred percent stalling.
West’s hand finds mine, our fingers threading together.
“We can go on two if you’d rather.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Just do it.”
“Three!”
West doesn’t hesitate or allow my own mind to get away from me as he pushes us off together. My heart stops, and then there’s nothing beneath my feet but empty air.
The cable catches, momentum carries us forward, and then I fly. We’re flying!
I let out a scream that shocks me because it’s not in fear. It’s exhilaration as the forest rushes past us in a blur. The wind whips my hair back, and West whoops beside me, a sound of pure joy that makes me laugh even as my stomach drops.
Before I know it, we’re at the next platform and it’s over. We stumble onto solid wood, breathless and grinning like giant goofballs.
“That was—”
“Incredible,” West finishes for me, and I laugh.
Why does it always feel like we’re on the same wavelength? Someone on the outside might think we’ve known each other a lot longer.
West’s eyes are bright, and his smile is easy, making him look more boyish than a CEO. We’re breathing hard in the aftermath of shared terror, but I still feel West’s hand in mine. Neither of us lets go as he stares down at me. I sense a shift between us, then his eyes drop to my mouth.
“Bellarose.” His thumb traces my jaw, feather-light. “Is this okay?”
I nod because words have abandoned me.
West leans in slowly, giving me every chance to pull away, but I’m not going anywhere. I rise up on my toes to meet him, and then his mouth is on mine, warm and tasting like mint and adrenaline.
His other hand comes up to cradle my face, and before I know what I’m doing, I grab fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him closer, kissing him back with the same intensity.
When we finally break apart, we’re both flushed and breathing hard all over again. West rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed, a smile playing at his lips. I love that I’m having this effect on him. I’ve never ever thought of myself as sexy, but right now I do.
“That was—” He echoes my earlier words.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “It really was.” My lips still tingle, and I never want the sensation to end.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since you fell out of the tree.”
I open my mouth to respond, to tell him I’ve wanted it since then too, but a voice cuts in.
“Everything okay up there?”
“We’re fine!” West calls back, not taking his eyes off me. “Just catching our breath.”
“The next platform is waiting when you’re ready!”
West groans, pressing his forehead against mine again. “I really hate that guy.”
“You don’t even know him.” I snort a laugh.
“I hate him anyway.” He kisses my nose, then my cheek, then the corner of my mouth. “Are you ready?”
“With you? Yeah, I’m ready.” I mean that way beyond the zipline course.
Together we work our way through the course, platform by platform. Each zip gets easier, the fear melting away. By the fifth platform, I’m actually looking forward to the drop, the rush of wind, and the weightless moment before the cable catches.
At each platform, West fusses over me. He keeps finding excuses to touch me like adjusting my helmet or brushing pine needles from my hair. Each time his hand lingers at the small of my back.
“I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun,” he says when we land back on the ground. He’s staring down at me. “Maybe ever.”
“Better than becoming CEO?” I tease.
“Infinitely better.” He turns to me, and the intensity in his expression makes my breath catch. “Bellarose, I…”
“West! There you are!” A flash of annoyance shows on his face at the interruption. With a sigh he steps back, putting a little space between us. A group of employees are lingering at the end of the course.
“Mr. Hayes,” a man says. He’s in a polo shirt I recognize from the corporate office. “We’ve been looking for you. There’s an issue with the Q3 projections that needs immediate attention.”
West’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his calm. “It can wait.”
“Sir, it’s urgent. The board is asking for you.”
I watch his expression change as he goes back to being serious. “Of course. Give me a moment, Grant.” He turns back to me. “Ms. Fontaine,” he says, his voice neutral. “Thank you for joining me today. I hope you enjoyed the activity as much as I did.”
The formality of what he’s saying hits me all wrong. What the heck just happened? How did I turn right back into being just another employee?
“Yes, sir,” I manage, my voice steady, not that I feel it. “Go,” I say, forcing a smile. “It’s okay. Really.”
West squeezes my hand once, where no one can really see it, then he releases it.
I stand there for a moment, watching him walk away with Grant, slipping back into that CEO role. The two personalities are so different. It’s like the man who kissed me breathless on a platform suspended in midair never existed.