The closest guy looked from Rue to Ethan and back again. “None today.”

“I’m your pilot, folks. You can ignore him.”

Ethan jumped at the voice. Overreact much? He and Rue both turned. The words belonged to a relatively sane-looking, fairly young man. He probably had a lot to live for, right?

“Someone has died today?” Ethan asked.

The pilot grinned. “Not here. I’ve never lost a customer.”

The words, Ethan was sure, were intended to be a comfort but he took them in a whole new direction. He hadn’t considered getting lost.

Oblivious to Ethan’s panic, the pilot continued. “The way this works is basic science. Hot air rises, so when we heat the air in the envelope with the propane burner, we go up. To descend, I open a valve at the top and release hot air, which cools the envelope and causes it to sink. Steering is a matter of drifting higher or lower to find an air current moving in the direction we want to go.”

Rue elbowed Ethan. “See? Nothing to it.”

“I’m Gabe, by the way, and I’ll stay discretely out of your way. All I ask is that you remember you’re in a public place, and you can otherwise pretend I’m not there.”

Remember they were in a public place? Did people actually…? “We’re—”

“We’re looking forward to it,” Rue said. And then she started talking about paragliding, and he tuned her out. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to think about her risking her life at every turn. She didn’t see it that way, but extreme sports were called that for a reason. She’d be so much safer if she’d stay home and knit or paint something.

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Yeah, because that worked out so well for Amy.

Ethan stood somewhat numbly while Rue chatted with Gabe. The balloon slowly unfurled and expanded in full glory, a geometrically patterned burst of yellow, blue, and red against a lazy sky. The basket wasn’t as flimsy as he expected, but knowing it would hold three people and fire didn’t offer much comfort.

By the time they were to board, only one thing kept him from fleeing to the parking lot: there was no way in hell he’d abandon her to go up there without him. And the fact that she stood brighter than the humongous hot air balloon was telling…she’d never turn back. And didn’t that just pretty much sum up everything he knew about her? She tackled everything head on.

And that terrified him. Made him want to drag her into his arms.

But she wasn’t his to hold.

He quickly found there wasn’t a single satisfactory place to stand in the basket. The choices were two: under the fire, or by the edge. And before he could wallow too much in that particular bit of misfortune, the flame roared and the basket lifted. At first, the weightless sensation matched that of a particularly forceful elevator drop, but where that feeling usually waned after a second, this one only grew. The only thing that kept him from closing his eyes to the odd sense of floating—made even stranger by the periodic jarring of the basket—was the absolute need to watch the woman who’d coaxed him up there. He quickly realized staring at her wouldn’t keep her safe, but seeing her joy made his heart want to burst.

And break.

She belonged on the edge, and that wasn’t something he could live with.

The edge was too damned close to another good-bye.

Compared to that reality, the balloon ride seemed easy. Eventually, he figured out how to breathe. Especially if he didn’t look down, but he couldn’t not look. The world below them was endless and green, the sky a sea of blue that would probably forever remind him of Rue’s eyes. He couldn’t see them now. She stood in front of him, practically hanging over the edge of the basket, while he kept toward the middle, with a hand on her ready to pull her toward him. It might not be any safer there, but he managed to convince himself otherwise. Especially when she leaned forward, tipping the basket—probably only an inch, but inches mattered, in particular the ones that kept her from plummeting toward earth. He wanted her safe. He wanted her with him. He used that excuse to haul her backward, and holding her felt so good, he didn’t bother pretending he wanted to let go. And after a moment, she made no pretense of acting like he should. She relaxed against him, leaving him to realize just how perfectly she fit in his arms. Like she belonged there.




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