But in her mind, she wasn’t seeing the three colorful balloons right in front of her. Instead, it was hundreds and hundreds. Rising up into the air in a spectacular airborne ballet. “I went to the balloon festival once in Albuquerque,” she realized aloud. “When I was in high school.”
“I know. You told me about it.”
She pretended to focus on her ice cream. “I think it was one of the few times everyone was happy together. My parents with each other. My parents with me. Did I tell you that, too?”
His hand tightened on her shoulder. Then he pressed a gentle kiss to her head. “Yeah.” His voice was gruff.
A knot formed inside her chest and she suddenly felt like crying. Which she was determined not to do.
Not on a beautiful summer evening when she had peanut butter ice cream in her hand and this man standing beside her.
How many times had Dr. Granger reminded her that her faulty memory needn’t rule her present? That, against all odds, she’d survived a horrific accident. She could either disappear into anxiety over what she couldn’t yet remember, or she could move forward, living the life she’d been gifted.
She lifted her chin, staring blindly at the balloons. Feeling the warmth of Adam’s hand. The lingering sensation of his kiss against her hair.
I could love this man.
The thought filled her. Lifted her. Just as certainly as the hot air lifted the enormous, gently bobbing balloons.
“Want to try?”
She startled, looking up at him. “Ah—”
“Going up.” He nodded toward the trio. “There aren’t so many people waiting in line now.” His gaze seemed to look right into her. “We could take the ride if you’re—”
“Yes.” She sounded so eager she was almost embarrassed. She tapped her spoon on her ice cream. She hadn’t even realized she’d been stirring it into mush. “What about this?”
His eyes crinkled. “What about it?”
“I doubt we’ll be able to take ice cream up with us.”
“They did.” He gestured with his cone at the same couple who’d been sitting on the bench outside the souvenir shop. “But don’t worry. I would never make you sacrifice anything that has peanut butter in it.”
“I could say the same thing about you and hops. If that ice cream cart would have had beer-flavored ice cream—” she shuddered “—you’d be all over it.”
His grin widened. “True.” His hand fell away from her shoulder. “I’ve been working on Ashley to put a boozy float on the menu at Provisions, but so far, no luck.”
Her nerves suddenly pinched. Ashley.
She focused on her cup, mashing the ice cream even more. “She must miss you a lot.” Her voice sounded hollow to her ears and she prayed he wouldn’t notice. “Considering how often she texts you.”
He bit off the side of his ice cream, reducing the round scoop by nearly half. “Think it’s her age,” he said after he swallowed. He looked wry. “She’s only twenty-three. Why make a two-minute phone call when you can accomplish the same thing in twenty text messages.” He grabbed her hand again and set off for the balloons, angling toward the table where a woman was selling the tickets.
Five minutes later, the ticket lady was minding the shopping bag and they were approaching the wicker basket occupied by the balloon pilot—a boy who looked too young to even shave. “If you want that ice cream to stay ice cream, better eat it up quick,” he advised. “Gets toasty in here.”
Adam took care of the rest of his ice cream in two bites, leaving only what was pushed down inside the waffle cone. He glanced at the contents of Laurel’s cup. “You always did stir it around until you turned it into ice cream soup. Go on. Drink it up. I know you want to.”
She managed a smile and quickly swallowed down the milkshake-like remainder and tossed the cup in the trash bin before stepping into the wicker basket. It felt alarmingly insubstantial and she nervously latched onto the side. Several fuel tanks were strapped in the interior and she suddenly wondered who in their right mind had ever thought a hot-air balloon seemed like a brilliant idea.
The pilot—“I’m Bobby, nice t’ meetcha”—gave a brief safety spiel and asked if either one of them had questions.
Laurel shook her head, mostly because she hadn’t really heard a word he’d said in the first place.
And then she felt a fresh rush of heat from the burner above them, and braced herself for God only knew what.
Only there was no yank as they left the ground. No crash as flimsy wicker gave away beneath their feet.
Instead, there was only the simple sense of floating. As easily as a feather drifted on a breeze.
She looked up, up, up, into the balloon. The brilliant colors of the exterior seemed even brighter from the inside. Then she looked out over the side of the basket.
Even though they were leashed to the ground, they still seemed to be rising incredibly high. The tethering ropes grew taut. She knew there was a breeze but couldn’t feel even a whisper of it. It was so amazing she actually forgot to clutch the basket like it was her only lifeline.
The entire town and the glittering river that wound around and through it seemed like it had been laid out just for them. “It’s so beautiful,” she breathed, looking around to find Adam.
He was smiling down at her and her heart stuttered.
She forgot the tethers. Forgot Bobby the balloonist.
Forgot everything except Adam.
“We’ve done this,” she realized aloud. Wonder was warming her from the inside out and she touched his chest with her fingertips. “You and I. We’ve done this before. Only there weren’t any ropes tying us to the ground.”
He closed his hand over hers, pressing her palm against him until she felt the deep thump of his heartbeat. “Yes.” His voice was low. Hushed in the stunningly silent air. “And we’ve also done this.”
Then he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to hers.
Chapter
