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“What is it, baby?” Vaughn asked, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
“I figured that climbing inside would be more like running hurdles than a regular race, and my heels wouldn’t be up for the challenge.”
“Have no fear,” he murmured after we greeted the pilot and got into the basket. “I would’ve picked you up and tossed you in if it came to that.”
“Gee, thanks,” I chuckled, craning my neck back to watch the balloon as it rose off the ground. The way the hot air filled the brightly colored material was a mesmerizing sight.
After the pilot took us up, he began to tell us about the geographic details of the region as we floated through the air, until Vaughn interrupted him to ask, “Do you mind if we do a less formal version of the tour?”
He nodded with a grin, gesturing toward a picnic basket in the corner. “A little less talking and a little more romance, eh?”
“Yes, exactly,” Vaughn agreed before reaching into the basket to pull out a bottle of red wine and two glasses. He deftly opened it and poured each of us a half-glass, holding one out to me.
I tapped my glass against his and said, “Cheers.”
I turned to look at the view, and Vaughn stood at my back with his arms on either side of me, bracing one hand against the basket. At about two thousand eight hundred feet in the air, the view was amazing. I cuddled against his chest and stared out at the San Bernardino mountains and San Andreas fault line, and snow-capped Santa Rosa summit. “I love being up here like this; high in the sky looking out over everything beneath us. Something about it gives me this rush of adrenaline. Whenever I’m on a Ferris wheel, I pray it gets stopped at the top because I love it so much. But this is like a million times better.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
I twisted my head to the side to look up at him. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never been on a Ferris wheel before.” He said it so matter-of-factly, but I heard a hint of sadness in his tone.
I kissed the edge of his jaw before turning back to the view below us, not wanting to make a big deal about his admission since he kept his gaze focused on the view below us and didn’t meet mine. But I also made a mental note to get him on a Ferris wheel as soon as humanly possible. “You should give it a try sometimes. I bet you’d love it.”
“If it’s anything like being up in a hot air balloon, I’m sure I would,” he agreed after finishing his wine.
I lifted my glass to my lips and took a sip, shaking my head as I swallowed. “I don’t think there’s anything else quite like this.”
It must’ve been the perfect response to shake off the sadness because his voice was playful when he said, “I did good, huh?”
“You did fucking amazing.” I downed the rest of my wine and handed him my glass to put back into the picnic basket. Then he picked up the blanket that was folded underneath it and wrapped us in it, pulling me tight against his chest. We floated through the air, pointing out sights like orchards, polo fields, and golf courses when we spotted them.
I was sad when it was time to land, but I couldn’t complain too much since we’d been up in the air for more than an hour and had traveled almost four miles.
“Thanks for the fantastic trip.” I noticed that Vaughn had slipped the pilot a tip when he shook his hand.
“Smooth move there,” I teased as he led me over to a blanket spread across the grass.
He shook his head and chuckled. “Apparently not smooth enough if you noticed.”
There was another picnic basket on top of it, and after we got settled on the ground, he pulled a bottle of chilled champagne, another with sparkling juice, a plate of cheese and crackers, and a box of chocolate truffles out of it. It all looked delicious, but I was curious about one thing. “What’s up with the juice?”
Having already learned how much I loved chocolate when I devoured the candied bacon roses he’d give me, he nudged the truffles in my direction before grabbing the sparkling juice to open it. “I’ll have precious cargo in my car during the drive home, so the glass of wine I had when we were up in the air is my limit.”
Answers like that one had me falling for Vaughn hard and fast. He reached for the other bottle, and I asked, “And the champagne?”
“Just because I’m not drinking doesn’t mean you won’t want some of the bubbly.” He poured a glass and handed it to me. “And it’s my job to make sure you get what you want.”
