She sucked air in through her nose and shoved it out through her lips. Father, for some reason I don’t understand, this is important to me. Please help me do it.
She squared her shoulders and jerked open the door.
Then dashed back to grab her keycard.
MITCH LEANED INTO HER. “You okay?”
She nodded with a confidence she didn’t quite feel. They shared the cabin with Chad, who gave her an encouraging smile every time he caught her eye. He was probably bracing himself for another round with her hysteria.
But she’d done pretty well with the takeoff, and the engine noise didn’t bother her. No reason it should, really. Prop engines sounded different from jet engines. No high-pitched whining. So, at least as far as going up in a propeller plane, Mitch had succeeded in ridding her of her fear of flying. Would her newfound confidence extend to the jet that would fly her home? That remained to be seen.
Mitch took her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it, and reminded her of how the buddy jump would go. Again. He’d touched on it during the drive out to the airport, had reminded her as they suited up and headed for the plane, and now, again. As if he was just as nervous as she. And if he kept it up, her nervous tension would amp up another level.
“I know.” She placed her other hand on top of his. “I’m okay.”
He gave her a pride-filled look and kissed her fingers. The gesture made her heart skip a beat. She couldn’t let him down.
But when the yellow light flickered on over the cockpit, her nerves jerked tight. Chad rose and pulled the door open, and her pulse raced.
Mitch squeezed her hand. “Still good?”
She bobbed her head and lied. “Yeah.”
They stood. Chad came and checked her straps, then stood back so Mitch could connect with her.
She twisted away. “I can’t.”
She strode with long steps back toward the tail of the plane—then pounded the wall and plopped onto the bench.
He sat beside her. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes I do.”
“I don’t understand. This isn’t a matter of life or death. It’s for pleasure. And if you don’t find it pleasurable, then why are you taking it so hard?”
“Because I said I would. I keep my word. I always keep my word.”
“That’s admirable, but this isn’t important, honey. It’s supposed to be fun.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She shifted toward him. “Look, you wanted to know more about me, here it is. Before G-pop died, I promised I’d take over his practice someday, and I did. Before Daddy died, I promised I’d take care of Mom, and I did—or I tried. But the money G-pop left for me was invested until I turned twenty-five, and Dad’s health bills ate up what we had. Mom didn’t work, didn’t know what to do with herself. She just stayed drunk until she died of cirrhosis three years ago.”
His eyes filled with sympathy, but she couldn’t stand his pity. She stood and paced in the tiny space to keep from looking at him. “When I was fourteen, I faked an ID and worked at a Kroger after school, checking steaks and seafood and fancy vegetables all day, then I’d take home Ramen Noodles and frozen peas to feed myself and my mom each night. I saved all I could, then worked my way through college, through grad school. I kept my word to Daddy and G-pop. I always keep my word.”
“But this isn’t like that, JoJo. It isn’t life or death. It’s not important.”
She whirled toward him. “It is to me!” She took a breath to settle the frantic anger rising in her chest, then lowered her voice. “I don’t understand why, but it is important to me.”
“All right, then.” He stood and took her by the shoulders. “You’ve always done things all by yourself. But you don’t have to now. You have me. You’ve trusted me all week. Trust me a little longer.” He slid his hands down her arms. “Lean on me. Rely on me. Relinquish your control just long enough to trust me. We can keep your word together.”
She studied him, the intensity reflected in his eyes, the determination showing in the set of his jaw, and nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this before I lose my resolve.”
“Yes!” He hugged her, gave her a resounding smack on the lips, then twirled a finger in the air and shouted to Chad, “Circle the drop zone. We’re jumping!”
Chad relayed the message to the pilot, then checked her straps again. As Mitch hooked them together, the yellow light switched to green, and Chad pulled the door open. Wind filled the fuselage, and she sucked down as much of it as she could. Mitch felt firm and solid against her back. But trusting him was a challenge as he walked her closer to the opening.
She pulled her goggles over her eyes. This is it, Lord. I’m trusting this man you sent my way. Please keep us safe.
He rubbed her shoulders. “You’ll love this. Really, you will. I’m excited for you.”
She nodded and leaned back to yell in his ear. “Just don’t drop me.”
Chad held up a finger, then his thumb, then, “Go!”
She did everything as she’d been taught — crossed her arms over her chest, tucked her legs when he stepped out. And fell.
The sensation of free-falling thrilled her like nothing she’d ever experienced. When Mitch signaled her, she straightened — arms and legs out — and rushed through the air like some masked superhero charging toward Earth. A hundred twenty miles per hour, he’d said. One hundred twenty from ten thousand feet in the air.
Laughter bubbled up from the pit of her stomach and erupted through her lips. She couldn’t stop it if she’d wanted, and she didn’t want to. She had no control over the gravity pulling them toward earth, no control of the wind speed — no control at all. Just faith and trust and a release she’d never allowed herself to experience. And she felt giddy with the joy of it.
Just over a minute of free-falling, then Mitch pulled the ripcord. The drag of the canopy being deployed gave her the sensation of going upward, of being jerked back into the atmosphere. They’d slowed from their rapid speed to thirty miles per hour. The wind noise softened at this speed, no longer rushing past her ears.
The patchwork landscape seemed even more breathtaking with no obstruction to her view. The river that ultimately wound its way through San Antonio, the highway, with its ant-like cars zipping down it — and the drop zone, signaling the end of the jump.
“Ready to land?” Mitch asked in her ear.
No, she wanted to stay up forever. But, gravity being what gravity was, she crossed her arms and tucked her legs.
He toggled the canopy, and they slowed more. Soon he was running to a stop on the tarmac, and her experience ended.
Still effervescent with laughter, she jerked off her goggles and squealed.
He disconnected them, and she threw her arms around him. “What a rush! I’ve never felt anything so liberating.”
“I knew you’d love it.” He rested his hands at the small of her back.
The excitement shining from his eyes shifted to—what? Curiosity? Longing? Whatever it was, in that instant, she felt the same. His lips were nearer to hers than they’d ever been, and sampling them would be just a matter of tilting her head …
His kiss — soft, tentative, probing — sent her head reeling back into the clouds. The heat off the tarmac rose and amped the flame he himself caused by pulling her closer, holding her tighter. She’d stumble if he let go. Her legs wouldn’t hold her. Passion flared, urgency demanded—
And that scared her.
She rested her hand on his cheek — still smooth from the morning’s shave — and pulled away. Just a little. Not so far she couldn’t taste him again with the least effort. She traced his jaw and dared to raise her eyes to see the hunger smoldering in his.
Then he shifted his gaze over her shoulder and stepped back. He shouted and waved at Chad, who jogged toward them.
Mitch held up her arm in victory. “She did it!”
“That was awesome! I’m excited for you.” Chad leaned toward her and kissed her cheek. “W
ell, what do you think? Ready to go up again?”
She glanced between him and Mitch. “Could we?”
Mitch laughed. “That’s up to Chad and the pilot.”
Chad studied her for a moment. “You think you liked it well enough to go solo?”
Mitch raised his brow at the question and turned to her. “I’ll be with you all the way. We just won’t be connected — not like that, anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” he gestured between himself, her, and Chad, “the three of us can jump together and hold wrists on the way down.”
“Like in the pictures I saw.”
“Yeah, like that. You game?”
The buddy jump had been amazing, breathtaking. Second only to kissing Mitch O’Hara. Could she jump without him?
If she didn’t do it now, she’d never get another chance, a thought that bothered her more than she’d expected. But now, the bucket-list dare she hadn’t even wanted became the thing she wanted to do most.
“I’m in!”
Chapter 10
JoJo almost hated to jump into the shower. It would be too much like washing the day away. The smell of the fuel and the oil and the air. And Mitch. The invigorating sensation of free-falling, the feel of Chad and Mitch clasping her wrists. The sound of the wind, the sound of their laughter. The tug of her canopy as she toggled to her landing. Not a very good one, not at all graceful. Still, she hadn’t broken anything.
But worse, the shower would wash away the feel of Mitch’s arms around her. The taste of his lips as he explored her own.
She hadn’t experienced anything so heady since Stewart Youngblood kissed her in the stables back when she was an undergrad. She’d been a college junior before she experienced the magic of a kiss. They’d dated off and on for years. Studied together as both pursued a degree in veterinary medicine. But with her studies, her full time job, and her frequent trips home to tend to her mother, she hadn’t been able to make it work.
Now, she was in the same boat. With her practice and the distance between Hereford and San Antonio, she and Mitch would never get to see each other.
She tested the water, then climbed in under the spray. She’d been foolish to let things escalate between them anyway. She needed to rein in her heart. After tomorrow, she’d never see him again. Probably after tonight.
But she still had tonight.
She dried and styled her hair, applied her makeup with more care than usual, then sifted through the clothes she’d brought with her. If she’d shopped this afternoon instead of jumping from a plane again, she’d have something different and more appropriate to wear. The only classy-looking outfit she had was the one she’d bought the other day. She sighed and slipped into it.
At least this time, she could wear the heels.
She rode the elevator down to wait for him in the lobby, but he was already there, lounging in one of the chairs with a bouquet of long-stem roses resting in his lap. More red than yellow. The romance between them would be short lived. She’d have to let him down easy.
He saw her and rose from his chair, almost dropping the flowers. He gathered them together in a haphazard bundle, then crossed to meet her. “You look great.”
“You said that the first time I wore this outfit.”
“Meant it then, mean it now.” He lightly brushed his lips against hers. “Hope you still like roses.”
She accepted them and brought them to her nose. Sweet, intoxicating. Just like the man who’d given them to her. “Still do.”
He nodded toward the sliding glass doors. “Ready?”
“Just a moment.” She stopped at the desk and asked the concierge to put the roses in water and send them to her room. With his assurance, she left them with him and rejoined Mitch. “Ready.”
He’d put the top up on the beautiful blue Audi, which was fine to keep her hair from blowing, but she’d miss riding in the convertible and feeling the wind on her face. They drove only a few blocks to a steakhouse and went inside a restaurant that smelled like grilled beef, wine, and class. She shuddered to think how much money he’d spent on her today alone. Finding a rich man had never been one of her goals — finding a man had been put on the back burner until her college loan was paid off — but being treated like a princess did have its perks.
Even if it was just for one more night.
He gave his name to the hostess, who seated them at a candle-lit table out of the way of traffic and left them with their menus. He held her chair for her, then settled beside her.
“I know you work on cattle, but are you opposed to eating beef? — aside from hamburgers, that is.”
She laughed. “No, that’s one of the ways I keep my ranchers in business.”
“Good.” He opened his menu. “If you’d like a suggestion what to have, try the Brazilian Picanha. It’s out of this world. A top sirloin cap coated with rock salt and flame-grilled to perfection. You don’t want to miss it.”
“You’ve been right about everything else during my entire vacation, so I’m happy to take your advice.”
A waiter came and offered the wine list. Mitch raised a questioning brow at her.
Well, why not? She wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but this was the last day of her vacation. One glass wouldn’t hurt. “The house white will be fine.”
He ordered a Pinot Grigio for her and a Merlot for himself, then placed the dinner order.
After the waiter left, Mitch took her hand and played with her fingers. “I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier.”
“What’s that?”
“About you working your way through college and about keeping your word. About your mom.”
She winced. Had she really spilled her entire past to him? She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump on you.”
“No, don’t apologize. I admire you.” He shifted from playing with her fingers to tracing the veins on the back of her hand and focused on the movement. “Rand and I had it easy. We were both spoiled rotten. Mom and Dad were … well, let’s just say they had several healthy investments and a couple of nice, hefty accounts. I had the attitude of an affluenza kid before the Air Force knocked it out of me.”
She glanced around their surroundings, then raised a brow at him. “So now, you’re just a regular Joe?”
He released a sardonic laugh. “Not entirely. But at least I don’t expect everything to be handed to me anymore. What I have now, I’ve worked for.” He paused for a moment. “But meeting you, realizing how hard you’ve worked to get what you want — that’s humbled me. I can’t imagine … “
Her cheeks grew hot, and she turned away. What was she supposed to say to this? What was he doing? Offering her — what? Sympathy? Pity?
“I’m botching this all up, aren’t I?” He paused while the waiter set wine glasses before them and filled each one. After he left, Mitch shifted toward her. “All I mean is that I admire you. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Had he realized that before he’d discovered she was poor, or after? She bit back a sarcastic remark and reached for her wine. “Well, that’s me. One of a kind.”
His lips tightened into a grim line for an instant as he reached for his own goblet, then he smiled. “So, what’s next on your bucket list? Anything that competes with skydiving?”
Small talk. After everything they’d gone through together, they would now revert to small talk.
She sighed inwardly. “I really don’t know. I’ve been living my bucket list.” She laughed. “I just hope the girls don’t dare each other again. It’s turning out to be more than I can take.”
HE DROVE HER BACK TO the hotel after dinner, but pulled into a parking place instead of the circle drive. He killed the engine, then kept both hands on the wheel.
“Look,” he said, staring out the windshield. “I know everything I said came out wrong earlier. All I meant was that I admire you. You probably think I’m a Class A jerk now.”
“Oh, no.�
�� She twisted in her seat to face him. “You’ve made my vacation special. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. And to top it off with that fabulous meal—I won’t have to eat for a week.”
“I figured you’d like it.” He stretched his arm across the back of her seat and massaged her neck gently. “I guess you’re leaving tomorrow?”
“Yes. Have to get back to my cinders and ashes before my rental carriage turns into a pumpkin,” she said, then winced at the poor-girl-rich-prince reference.
He chuckled. “I guess I deserved that.”
“No, you didn’t. And I didn’t mean it that way. I was just trying to be funny.” Maybe in the darkness of evening, he couldn’t see her blush. “I didn’t realize how it would sound until it popped out of my mouth.”
“I guess we’re even then.” He kissed her fingers.
“I guess we are,” she murmured. With his head bent over her hand, all she wanted to do was run her fingers through his hair. Caress that strong jaw again. Bring his lips to hers. “I guess I need to go in and start packing. I have an early flight.”
“I can drive you.”
“Thank you, but no. I need to return the rental.”
“Next time I’m in Amarillo—”
“Mitch.” She shook her head. “I loved my time with you, and I’d love to see you again, but I don’t see how it would work. I’m up before dawn, in bed at dark. Sometimes I’m called out during the night. Once I get back to my real world, I won’t have time for anything else. And with the miles between us … Well, you know about long-distance relationships.”
Again his lips formed that tight line. He glanced out the windshield for a moment. Cars passed, headlights reflected off street signs. Ahead, the traffic signal turned green and a pickup swung into the parking lot, sweeping them in the truck’s twin beams.
Mitch focused on her again, then pulled her into his arms and kissed her. A soft, tender kiss that made her want to take back everything she’d said. Then he pulled away, releasing her and leaving her with a dazed heart and dizzy head.
Skydiving to Love Page 6