by Diana Duncan
She closed her eyes to blot out the stars’ mocking gleam. She no longer believed wishes came true.
Liam’s voice echoed in her thoughts. Faith is the ability to trust in what you can’t see.
Try a little faith for a change, Chabeau.
It was windier away from the shelter of the building. The breeze picked up, rocking her swing. She bit her lip. Clutched the harness. “Hurry, Liam,” she whispered.
A clink sounded overhead. The shard of metal fell, tumbling end over end until it disappeared in the darkened sky, far below.
Uh oh. That can’t be good.
Suddenly, the connection popped, and the seat flipped forward. Her shriek abruptly cut off as the underside of the harness jerked her to a stop, slamming the air out of her lungs. She dangled upside down over a thousand feet in the air. “Liam!”
“Almost there!” He sounded far, far away. “Hang on!”
Hysteria bubbled in her throat. She sure as hell wasn’t about to let go. Blood rushed to her head, making her woozy. The strained harness creaked. “Hurry!”
Several centuries crawled past.
Then he shouted, “I’m right below you!”
Hope collided with disbelief. “How?”
“Commandeered the hot air balloon.”
“Get me out of here!”
“I can’t come directly to you. The swing’s arms will tangle with the balloon. You have to open the harness and fall to me.”
Say what? She couldn’t see anything but vast, black sky. “I don’t know which direction to go.”
“Doesn’t matter. I have the basket perfectly positioned. It’s not that far, really. Unbuckle the harness and let yourself fall.”
“Are you insane?” Her sweaty fingers dug into the straps. “Redundant question. No way!”
“I’ll catch you.”
She fought the urge to throw up. “What if you miss?”
“I won’t.” His tone was deadly calm. “Kate, listen to me. You feel safe because you have something to hang on to. But what you’re clinging to is broken. Faulty. It can’t hold you much longer. When it breaks, it’ll fling you into a free fall ... in a random direction.” His low voice caressed her, wrapped her in a warm cloak of reassurance. “Sweetheart, you have to let go to survive.”
“I c-cant!”
“You can. I’ll catch you, I promise. Trust me enough to let go.”
Sweet baby Jesus. Deliberately releasing the harness and plummeting blindly into nothingness warred with every survival instinct she possessed. How did Liam boldly walk up to bombs every day and unflinchingly stare death in the face?
“C’mon, babe,” he urged. “I’ve wanted you to fall for me in a big way since we met.”
Humor. He coped by using humor. And he seemed to have unlimited faith. She swallowed another retch. Hey, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. “If you let me splat, Lucky Charmer, I’m gonna come back and haunt you forever.”
“Deal.” His laugh was strained. “I can’t hold my position much longer. Unbuckle the straps. Do it.”
Amazing how finding a tiny shred of amusement helped make the situation somewhat less dire. She struggled to get free. Her handicap and suspended weight worked against her. The buckles wouldn’t release. Stressed metal groaned. She pried harder.
At last, the catch snicked open—and she hurtled through space.
She didn’t have time to think more than fuck, fuck, fuck! before Liam’s arms closed around her. He grabbed her, swung her inside the basket. The balloon dipped sharply as they both tumbled to the floor. She gasped in ragged pants of air.
He held her tight. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
Breathless and shaking, she flung her arms around him. Choked back the shrill scream still fighting for release. No use freaking out now.
“Easy.” He rubbed her back. “My brave lady. You are amazing.”
He was warm, solid, strong, and she never wanted to let go. Her emotions were as shredded as the harness. Just as apt to spin her into a deadly free fall.
He sat up and opened the burner jets. Flames hissed out, the balloon drifting skyward. “Perfect night for a balloon ride.”
She strove to regain composure. “W-when did you learn to pilot a hot air balloon?”
“Grady and I compete in balloon races.” He eased her into a sitting position, then sat beside her. Their shoulders touched and he bent his long legs at the knees.
“You do have skills.” Trembling, she leaned against him. “Where are we headed?”
“As soon as we clear the populated areas, I’ll bring her down. Until then, we fly where the wind takes us. I brought your purse because I knew we’d need a phone. I’m gonna get it out, okay?”
Still too shaky to manage that herself, she nodded. “Who are you calling?”
“Air O’Rourke.” He brought up the home screen. “Phone’s in low battery mode.”
“I haven’t exactly had time to charge it during the past twenty-odd hours. And oh, yeah, my charger went bang along with my apartment.”
Grimacing, he dialed. “Con? Why are you answering Grady’s phone? Yeah, I’ve heard of call forwarding, wanker. Can you get a message to him?” He frowned. “What? You’re where?” A huge, goofy grin broke over his face. “Holy shit, bro! Whahoo!” He chuckled. “When you come down off that high, inform Grady we’re in a hot air balloon headed northeast. We’ll need an extraction. Hang tough, bro.”
Still grinning, he hung up. “Bailey passed out and Con took her to the E.R. They thought it was the climate making her sick.” He laughed. “Different kind of heat. I’m gonna be an uncle.” He pumped his fist. “Mom and Letty, our adopted grandma, are gonna wig out!”
She remembered how torn she’d felt when she’d discovered Aubrey was on the way. The news had been bittersweet, heavy on the bitter. Liam’s delight was contagious. “Congratulations.”
“Yeah. I love rug-rats. Want a bunch of my own.”
Then he must anticipate eventually making a commitment. Maybe he was just waiting for the right woman. A lump formed in her throat. “A bunch is pretty ambitious. Maybe start with one and work your way up.” He’d be a great dad. Loads of fun, but also caring, protective, and responsible. Liam’s children would never doubt they were loved. “What about Murphy? Won’t he be jealous?”
“Nah, he adores kids. He’ll be a big ole nanny sheepdog and herd ’em into line.” His irises sparkled brighter than the stars, and she wished him that much joy always.
She longed to be the one who brought the glow to his face, the light into his eyes. Maybe—
Did she believe in destiny?
He focused on her. “I find it hard to believe loving someone else’s child is enough for you.”
“We’ve already had this discussion.”
His brows lowered. “You have a lot more to give than you think.”
She stared down at her leg and saw blood snaking down her calf. “I’m bleeding.”
He started. “Damn! Shrapnel?”
“Yeah. It’s not bad, though.”
His fingertips brushed her thigh. “Needs to be cleaned.”
“I carry antibacterial wipes and bandages in my purse for Aubrey. She’s klutzy like her auntie.” She dug for supplies. He took the package of wipes, and she scowled. “I can do it.”
He ignored her. One big hand closed gently over her thigh and the other dabbed the blood on her leg.
“Hearing problem, Lucky Charmer?”
His impish grin slanted. “Say what?”
She winced as the antiseptic burned. “Youch! Have mercy!”
“Sorry.” He pursed his full lips, bent and blew softly on the wound. “Better?”
Pain was displaced by tingling warmth. Substituting one torture for another. Better was relative. “Sort of.”
He carefully positioned two cartoon bandages over the cut, then visually examined her from head to toe. He gently raised her arm. “Shoulder’s bleeding in the back, too.”
“No big deal.”
“Now you sound like a SWAT cop.” His finger circled. “One-eighty it.” Not that she had a choice. His insistent hands turned her, positioned her spine toward him. He shifted behind her, then the zipper on her dress hummed. He skimmed the black linen off her arm, baring her shoulder. “Does it hurt?”
“Not really.” Cool wetness stroked her shoulder blade, followed quickly by the sting. She flinched, but Liam’s breath immediately feathered over her skin. Though his caress was warmer than the desert breeze, a shiver rippled down her backbone.
Tender fingers smoothed adhesive strips on her shoulder. She tipped her head back against him, soaking up his reassuring heat, breathing in his clean, woodsy scent.
His fingers stroked through her tangled hair. The gentle massage was heaven. “Sure you’re okay?”
He felt like a safe haven. If only she could curl up in his arms and ride out life’s storms. He’d stayed steadfastly by her side through the entire, horrible ordeal today. Constantly put himself in harm’s way to protect her. She trusted him with her physical well-being. Longed to trust him with her heart. Could she?
She blurted out the truth. “I don’t know.”
Liam continued those soothing strokes through her hair. “Just breathe. You’re safe now.”
Vivid neon colors glowed below, city noises silenced by distance. Stars glittered overhead. The basket swayed in the desert breeze, ropes softly creaking. Peaceful moments were so rare, she could count them on one hand. She soaked in contentment, like the desert soaked in rare, precious raindrops. Snuggled close and steeped in quiet companionship, they floated through the air in a serene waltz.
If only the dance would never end.
Liam gathered her hair to one side and zipped up her dress. His fingers curled around her neck, and he leaned forward and brushed a soft kiss across her nape. “Kate?” His murmur tingled down her spine and through her center. “We started something two years ago. Don’t you want to see how the story ends?”
She turned to face him. Released a sigh. “I’m afraid it ends with you angry and me with a broken heart.”
“Only in Nicholas Sparks’s novels, babe.”
The waltz was over. Time to pay the piper. “I’m not just physically disabled. I’m emotionally disabled.”
His forehead creased. “Translate that into guy-speak.”
“My ability to trust has been damaged. I don’t know if I’m capable of sustaining a relationship.”
“Kate, you’re warm, vibrant, and responsive, and any man would be damn lucky to have you.”
“No,” she choked out. “Not any man.”
“God damn,” Liam whispered as realization hit. “Look at me. This is about more than the dog attack, isn’t it? And has something to do with why you went home with me that night. Can you tell me what happened?”
She stared at the horizon. “Unlike my pretty, popular sister, I never dated much.”
“What was wrong with those guys?”
“Most were intimidated by an intelligent, outspoken, ‘artsy’ female.”
“I would’ve dated you in a hot second. I love smart, creative women.” Of course, he hadn’t realized it until he’d met Kate. He’d breezed through superficial party girls until she’d come along. Hadn’t known what he was missing.
“People casually bandy that word around all the time, don’t they? Like, ‘I love to go to the movies.’”
Torn, he hesitated. Though he longed to tell her how he felt, she wasn’t ready to hear it. He had to disarm her fears as carefully as a ticking detonator. Or his hopes and dreams would get blown to hell.
She continued. “So I was totally naive, a disaster waiting to happen. And boy, did it ever.” She grimaced. “A little over four years ago, I attended a presentation at the restoration firm I worked for on reducing ecological harm from artists’ chemicals. The man who gave it invited me to lunch, and we started dating. Before long, I was madly in love with him. He showered me with attention and compliments. After a lifetime of coming in last to my sister, I was starving for affection. Stupid, I know. Now.”
“First love can knock you for a loop.” As he’d recently discovered to his dismay. “When you’re mired in any deeply emotional situation, it’s tough to step back and analyze.”
“Exactly my point.” Her lips compressed. “After a few months, he asked me to marry him, and I was thrilled. But then I started seeing him ogling other women when we were out. I called him on his wandering eye, and we had a huge fight.” Lost in the past, she absentmindedly rested her hand on his thigh, and his muscles tightened. “The next day, he sent a lavish bouquet along with a beautifully written apology and an invitation to a ‘romantic makeup dinner’ at his apartment. I fell for it. One thing led to another, and we ended up in bed.”
Liam frowned. He’d been her first, so what the hell had happened?
“Then ... I don’t know ... it was like a switch flipped inside me and shut everything down. I couldn’t go through with it. I felt like an idiot. He was really angry. He told me I was frigid.”
“Shallow, stupid, and selfish. Not a winning combo.”
“Yet he insisted he still wanted to get married. According to him, no other man would be able to live with a frigid wife, but he was willing to make the sacrifice because he ‘cared’ so much. Confused, upset, I said I had to think about it and left. The next day, I went back to talk to him, to try to figure everything out.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “Remember when I said I’d also had that gut-deep ‘something’s very wrong’ feeling? I let myself in with the key he’d given me, and he had a woman bent over the couch and was nailing her ... a woman who very obviously wasn’t frigid. My sister.”
His temper spiked. “Damn them!” He wanted to geld the dickhead. And have a come-to-Jesus chat with Drama Llama.
“After I’d arrived home upset the night before, she’d run right over to ‘console’ him. And Janine got what she always wanted—whatever I had at the time.”
“I’m sorry.” He pulled her into a hug. “You didn’t deserve that. Any of it.” He gritted his teeth. “Drawing and quartering is too good for them.”
She gave a deliberate shrug, but her shoulders were stiff. “Back then, it shredded my heart.” She took a trembling breath, then jutted her chin. “But it’s water under the bridge. He’s happily married now, has a family. All of us moved on with our lives. But you can see why I’d have trouble with trust.”
“You didn’t have any trouble in bed with me.”
“No.” She wouldn’t look at him again. “Remember I told you Aubrey was born that night? I was pretty upset, thinking I’d never have a husband or child. Then I got mad and decided to prove that cheating asshole wrong about being frigid. I was leaving for Paris the next day and when my car died outside the bar, with a drugstore right on the corner, it seemed like serendipity. I went into the drugstore and bought condoms, then into the bar. While I was in the restroom, I heard a couple of women talking about how ‘Love-’em-and-Leave-’em-Liam’ was so good at sex, and that he only wanted one night with each woman. I went out to find this perfect man. But then I saw you. And I didn’t care if you were him or not ... I wanted you. For just one night.”
His stomach cramped. Jesus, how many times had he thought the same thing about a woman? Apparently, karma wasn’t content with just sucker-punching him, she had to light a case of C-4 under his ass.
But this time, with Kate, everything was different. “Kate, listen, I need to tell you—”
Her head jerked up. “Is it my imagination, or are we sinking? Fast.”
He surveyed the landscape. Shit! He’d grown so absorbed in her, he’d forgotten to open the jets and heat the air. He normally multitasked with ease, but Kate fried his circuits. Every. Damn. Time.
Her confession consumed his thoughts as he pulled open the parachute valve at the top to slow their decent. She’d been betrayed by her parents, her sister, her fiancé, and become permanently di
sabled trying to save a pup who’d then died. Her struggle with trust was painfully clear. How could he possibly convince her that meeting her—falling in love with her—had changed him into a one-woman man? That she was now his number one priority, and he’d be loyal only to her?
The basket bumped to earth, bounced, then settled. He’d never run up against a problem that couldn’t be solved with a few strategically disarmed explosives.
Just Kate.
As he helped her climb out, a helicopter roared low overhead. Grady, ever pushing the envelope. The helo whirred down, kicking up a sandstorm, lights illuminating the desert. The passenger door opened. Murphy bounded out and raced toward him. Liam knelt and Murphy jumped into his arms.
Wriggling, the dog swiped his face with a wet tongue, and then sniffed him. You’ve been cozying up to that female again.
Laughing, Liam hugged his partner. “Missed you, too, Murph.” Kate made a small sound of distress and he looked up in time to see her bite her lip and turn away.
He rose, but before he could go to her, a woman hopped out of the pilot’s seat and strode up to them. A big, brawny woman. Sporting long brown pigtails. And wearing a blue gingham dress, white pinafore ... and combat boots?
“Yo, Dorothy.” Liam stared at his baby brother in drag. “I don’t think you’re in Kansas anymore.”
Grady’s eyes flicked to Kate and his dimples flashed. “It’s not a flying monkey, but it’ll get you where you need to go.”
Kate visibly collected herself. Her lovely mouth quirked in a half smile. The woman had grit. One of her many admirable qualities. “Did you lose your ruby slippers and your munchkins?”
“Damn hard to pilot a helo in high heels.” Grady snickered. “But never fear, darlin’, all munchkins are present and accounted for.”
Liam snorted. That was some “secret project” Grady and Zoe had been co-conspirating. “What in hellfire are you up to now?”
“Doing exactly what you ordered. Blending.”
“With whom?”
“The other ‘girls’ at La Cage. We’re doing lunch tomorrow.”
“You were dancing onstage at La Cage? No wonder you couldn’t answer your phone.”