Stolen
Page 27
“Don’t worry about me, Atticus.” His mother tiptoed up and gave him a peck on the cheek. “I’m going to walk the bridge. This is once in a lifetime, and I don’t want to miss it.”
“Me either.” Arlene hooked her arm through Agatha’s.
“If you’re sure.” He made eye contact with his mother, then Arlene, then Caity. “But we can turn around anytime you want. No shame in that.”
In truth, he was itching to get up on that skywalk. It just surprised him . . . in a good way.
Caity led the way at a brisk pace.
Today must be the day for setting aside fear.
Arm in arm, the moms soldiered on, but slowly. He turned to check on them. The wind blew their hair back, showing off their shining faces. They looked like happy campers to him, so he hurried to catch up with Caity.
Her complexion had paled and the skin encircling her lips was tinted blue.
He pulled her up short. “You sure you want to do this?”
Crowds and heights weren’t her thing, and it seemed like she might be doing all this for his sake. He loved the adrenaline rush of peering down over rocky cliffs and crashing waves and Caity knew it—she’d heard his Acapulco cliff dive story enough times.
“Never more sure of anything in my life.”
“Okay.” He couldn’t quite read her face. Either she was terrified or excited . . . or maybe both. “But I have a feeling there’s something you’re not telling me.”
“That’s because it’s a surprise.”
He glanced back over his shoulder. The moms weren’t far behind, and they had their heads together.
Coconspirators?
“We didn’t come to Taos for Luke’s gallery opening?”
“That’s not until tomorrow.”
“So why all the rushing around today?”
“Do I really have to define the word surprise for you, or will you, please, just shut up and trust me?”
This was one of those plans that seemed like a great idea on paper. But that was before Caitlin stepped onto the 565-foot-tall Rio Grande Gorge Bridge. As traffic whizzed by, the wind lashed against her skin like a cat o’ nine tails, and flapped her hair into her face, nearly blinding her. She pulled a scrunchie out of her pocket, secured her long tresses in a ponytail atop her head, and voila, the least of her problems was solved.
Her palms were damp, and her heart was keeping time to a punk rock drum beat.
Then Spense moved in close, shielding her from the punishing wind, and she remembered why she’d come up with such an extreme scheme.
She loved him.
Here was a man who’d saved her from a mountain lion, risked his career for her, and complimented her mother’s cooking. The same man who’d helped clear her father’s name, then adopted a star in his honor. Now, anytime she needed her father, all she had to do was look to the night sky.
This was the least she could do for Spense.
Up ahead she caught sight of their destination, a small platform cantilevering out from the main bridge over the Rio Grande River.
She grabbed Spense by the hand, sucked up her courage, and said, “Come on.”
Together, they stepped onto the platform and peered down into the gorge. From this height, the river looked like a sliver of broken mirror coursing through a bank of green wool.
“Do you remember the first time we made love?” she asked.
“Hmm. Let me think.” He grinned big, and then said, “Sorry, but what kind of question is that?”
“A rhetorical one.”
“Baby, never ask a man a rhetorical question about sex.”
“Spense, be serious. Remember how we wanted to take that Tahitian vacation, and we kept waiting and waiting for the perfect moment to make love?”
“And then we realized that perfect moment was up to us to create.”
“At a budget motel, you turned the night into something special and made me feel like the most loved woman in the world.”
“You are the most loved woman in the world.” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her against him.
She could barely breathe, but she needed to get this out. “I know you’re struggling right now to make sense of what happened with your dad. When you asked me to marry you the other day, we’d just gotten kicked off a murder case, and I’d just had a creepy encounter with Grady Webber. It wasn’t by any stretch the perfect time for you to propose. I thought we weren’t ready, that it was too soon. But I was wrong.”
“What are you trying to say, Caity? I’ll wait for you, however long it takes. I never meant to make it seem like I was giving you an ultimatum. Marry me or else is not exactly a woman’s dream.”
“I’m saying that just like there was never going to be a perfect moment to make love for the first time, there isn’t going to be a perfect moment to propose marriage. I love you so much it makes my heart pound like I’m in a free fall off this bridge—and it terrifies me. Then I think about the time you dove off the cliffs in Acapulco, how you said it was one of the most exhilarating moments in your life, and that you’ll always be glad you took the chance.”
He broke their gaze, looking past her, over her shoulder. She turned to see what he saw.
They were here.
Three guys, two of them carrying harnesses and cords, all of them wearing red shirts that read Bungee Dream Adventures.
There was no more time to waste. If she was going to do this, and she was, she’d better get to it. She waited a few more beats for the moms to catch up. She gave them the thumbs-up, and they stepped onto the platform with Spense and her.
She dropped to one knee. “Marriage is a leap of faith. But sometimes when you’re scared, you just have to jump.”
“Caity, you don’t have to do this for me. I want you to feel safe and happy. You have nothing to prove. I love you, but I want you to be sure.”
“I’m sure of this. You are the love of my life. And I’m ready to take that leap of faith whenever you are.” The wind buffeted her about, and she gripped the fence for dear life with one hand and extended her other up to Spense. “Atticus Spenser, will you marry me?”
“Oh hell yes.” He pulled her up and into his arms. With his body he shielded hers from the wind. His feet planted wide, he became a wall protecting her from wind and traffic and any trouble that might pass by—no—they became a wall protecting one another. His lips found hers, and he coaxed her mouth open, kissing her thoroughly and shamelessly, right in front of the moms and the Bungee Dream Adventures guys and the tourists and the good lord above.
They finally broke apart, and the crowd let out a cheer. Or maybe they’d been cheering all along, but she’d been too caught up in the kiss to notice.
Spense was her world, and he was all she ever wanted.
“We’re still going to Tahiti, right?” he asked.
The bungee guys were setting up. The sound of harnesses rattling shook her to the core.
“Stop stalling.” She grinned. “Of course we’re going to Tahiti. But not next week, for goodness sake. I need time to plan a destination wedding. We’ll invite Gretchen, and Enrique, and Dutch of course . . . all of our old friends, maybe even Hatcher . . .”
“Now who’s stalling?” the head bungee man asked.
She looked at Spense. Her entire body was trembling.
He took her hand, turned her palm up and kissed it. “Only if this is what you really want.”
In answer, she nodded and opened her stance. An adventure guide rushed to help her into her harness and fasten the safety belts while another guide helped Spense. Behind them cars sped by, and people stopped to gawk and whoop. The guides took plenty of time going over instructions and safety rules.
Then together, she and Spense stepped out onto the edge of the platform.
She took a huge breath and climbed atop the railing a safe distance from Spense.
Below them the Rio Grande River raged.
Ahead of them, their life together waited.
“I’m going to count down from five,” a guide said. “Five.”
She squared her gaze with Spense’s. “I’m so scared.”
“Four.”
“Me, too,” he said. “Isn’t it great?”
“Three-two-one,” shouted the guide.
Jump!
And then they were flying.
Acknowledgments
Thank you readers! I am so grateful that you take time out of your busy lives to read my books. I really hope you enjoy them. I love hearing from you, so don’t hesitate to e-mail me. You can find my contact information and sign up for my newsletter at www.CareyBaldwin.com. I welcome your feedback and appreciate your reviews.
As always, I want to thank my family, Shannon, Erik, Sarah, and Bill for putting up with me and loving me. You guys are my everything.
Thank you to my wonderful friends Leigh LaValle, Lena Diaz, Tessa Dare, Courtney Milan, and Brenna Aubrey for your support. I couldn’t do this without you.
K and T ladies: Sarah Andre, Diana Belchase, Manda Collins, Lena Diaz, Rachel Grant, Krista Hall, Gwen Hernandez, and Sharon Wray—you rock! I am blessed to have you in my life.
Carmen Pacheco, what can I say? You have been such a wonderful friend and beta reader and I am truly grateful for you.
I’d like to thank my amazing editor, Nicole Fischer, for her brilliant insights and her unflagging patience. And finally, a huge thank-you to my fantastic agent, Liza Dawson for taking me on and believing in me, and to Caitie Flum and everyone at Liza Dawson Associates for all your help and support.
About the Author
CAREY BALDWIN is a mild-mannered doctor by day and an award-winning author of edgy suspense by night. She holds two doctoral degrees, one in medicine and one in psychology. She loves reading and writing stories that keep you off-balance and on the edge of your seat. Carey lives in the southwestern United States with her amazing family. In her spare time she enjoys hiking and chasing wildflowers. Carey loves to hear from readers so please visit her at www.CareyBaldwin.com, on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/CareyBaldwinAuthor, or Twitter https://twitter.com/CareyBaldwin.
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Also by Carey Baldwin
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Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
stolen. Copyright © 2017 by Carey Baldwin. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.
Digital Edition FEBRUARY 2017 ISBN: 9780062495549
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062495495
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