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Chapter 10 - Laurel
I woke up early out of excitement to spend the day with Ben. It did feel a bit odd getting paid to be Ben’s tour guide, especially since I was fairly sure he didn’t need one. I supposed keeping things professional would keep me on the straight and narrow though since I still found him dangerously attractive. Three days of him hiding away on the top of his mountain like an ogre king didn’t make that stop. I was determined that he would have a good time, maybe shake him out of his shell a little and even loosen him up enough to see that there’s no reason why I shouldn’t be able to do my jump.
My ankle felt as good as new so I left off the bandage, knowing we’d mostly be sticking to easier trails and maybe taking a swim. I put my cutest swimming suit on under my shorts and tank top, then remembered that Shakes had said the yellow and black striped bikini made me look like a bumble bee and wondered if I should change. I didn’t want to be late though and I really didn’t want to obsess over how I looked. This was a job, nothing more. I packed us some granola bars and apples, then headed out to wait for him at the diner. I had to force myself to sit when I got there, as nervous and excited at the same time as I was on a school field trip day.
He pulled up a few minutes after ten, jumping out of his jeep to open the passenger door for me, apologizing for being late. I was stunned at how nice he was being and only stared at him until he asked me if something was wrong.
“Who are you?” I asked. “You’re being so nice.”
“I’m always nice.” He made a face as he shut my door after I was in. Two seconds and I was already having too much fun. When he got in on his side he pointed to a pastry box. “Help yourself.”
I opened it to see two perfectly beautiful donuts, one with a fluffy powder coating and red jam spilling out the side and the other with a thick chocolate glaze on top. “Where did these come from?” I asked. The closest donut place was twenty miles away and these were light years nicer than anything they ever had.
He grumbled like the donuts had offended him somehow. “My assistant overnighted them. She worries about me.”
I stopped with the jelly donut halfway to my lips. “You have an assistant? I guess I knew you were rich, but not New York donuts overnighted rich.”
He opened his mouth and shut it, unable to deny it. “She’s more like a wrangler than an assistant, I guess. To be fair to her.”
“At least you recognize you’re difficult,” I said, taking a big bite of the donut. “Mmm, heaven.”
He turned and looked at me long enough for me to get embarrassed, then feel a wash of heat rising up in places other than my cheeks. I slowly licked the powdered sugar off my lips and smiled when he turned away, his own cheeks getting red. I liked that I could fluster him, but the price was that I was also flustered.
I pointed out the direction to the river, hoping the spot I wanted to take him wasn’t going to be crowded. It wasn’t exactly secluded, but it was further upstream from where most people fished and there was no cleared area along the overgrown bank for swimmers so most people just ignored it, despite my fun addition to the area.
We parked along the edge of the road, and I led him through the woods until we got to the river. The rain had swelled it considerably and it was high for that time of the year, but not dangerously rushing. I was pleased to see we were the only ones there.
“Are you a strong swimmer?” I asked.
I pointed to the rope that was strung across from one bank to the other. It was about twenty feet across. Nothing when it was calm, but we’d need to hang on tight with the current the way it was if we wanted to cross in the water. If he let go before his feet touched the bottom on the other side, he’d need to keep his head above water until the curve several hundred yards downstream washed him into the shallows.
He eyed the whitewater eddies crashing around a boulder halfway across. “Do we need to cross?” he asked.
I linked arms with him and pointed straight up. A few weeks ago I rigged a zipline at the top of the incline on the opposite side and it was a nice, refreshing shot over the river back down. He swallowed and grimaced at me.
“Do you get itchy or something if your feet don’t leave the solid ground after a certain amount of time?”
“Something like that,” I said, leaning into him as I stood on my toes to grab his shoulders. I gave him a hearty shake, enjoying the feel of those muscles under my fingertips. “I don’t think you’re afraid of heights if you snowboard.”
He smirked down at me. “Are you trying to kill me?”
I let out a yelp of frustration. “I’m trying to have fun with you, old man.”
He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me close. “There are ways to have fun without leaving the ground,” he said in a mock menacing tone.
I felt as light as air in his arms and let my head tilt back as I laughed. He was treading on dangerous ground. Far more dangerous than my little zipline. I remembered the other night on his couch and how antsy I’d been for his lips on mine.
“Think of this as foreplay,” I said. “We have all day, you know.”
He let me go and bit his lip, looking first at the line to get us across the river, then up at the zipline, thirty feet overhead. All the color drained from his face and the mischievous sparkle in his eyes faded.
There was something behind the brick wall he put up, maybe the thing keeping him from letting himself go was the brick wall. I was no psychologist, but I felt compassion for him I didn’t quite understand. I took his hand and waited while he kept looking at my setup.
“It’s basically your job to set these things up, isn’t it?” he finally asked. “So, it’s probably perfectly safe.”
“Yes,” I exclaimed. “Oh my God, I’ve been trying to tell you that since we first met. It’s one hundred percent safe.”
“Nothing’s one hundred percent safe,” he said bitterly.
