“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe I’m not ready for the real thing yet.”
Then Charles took my hand in his and squeezed. I looked up, meeting his eyes.
“I’ve got you,” he said. “Trust me.”
The conviction in his voice sort of bowled me over. He was so sincere, so encouraging. I felt lighter. Whatever kind of Jedi mind trick he pulled on me, he needed to bottle that stuff. It was potent.
Before I knew it, I was off my feet and the ground was quickly getting farther away.
“Whoa!” I said, latching on to his arm for dear life as the lift carried us upward.
“See? Easy.”
“Uh-huh.”
Charles chuckled softly into my hair. “I love it up here. It’s the best view in town.”
He had that part right. As we were carried above the trees, the whole mountain range spread out before us, surrounded by bright blue sky and snowy lanes of swerving skiers.
“I suppose your mom taught you how to ski,” I said.
“My grandfather, actually. By the time I was old enough to get up on skis, she’d already given it up.”
“What were they like, your grandparents?”
A warm smile of reminiscence grew across his face. “The best. The kind of people that made everyone they met feel like family. They believed in community and helping people.” His expression turned wistful as he stared out at the scenery. “I don’t know. I think somewhere along the way we lost that. Nothing feels like it did when they were around.”
“You really miss them.”
“I do. Grandad was my best friend growing up.”
I loosened my death grip on his arm, which he then placed over my shoulder to hug me closer. It was a sweet, innocent gesture that still somehow felt intimate. Until the lift suddenly jerked to a halt. The chair swayed back and forth, dangling from the cable overhead.
“It’s not supposed to do that, is it?” I said, looking up at Charles with panic bubbling in my chest.
His brow furrowed. “Give it a second.”
A second turned into several, while we both peered toward the platform that was still several hundred yards up the mountain.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Charles assured me, obviously sensing my growing unease.
A gust of wind rattled the chair and a metal groan echoed above our heads.
“Well, that can’t be good,” I said, trying to cover the creeping alarm rising in my gut. “Is this a bad time to say I’m sort of mortally terrified of heights? Well, less heights than falling to my gruesome death.”
“Oh,” he said. “So, this was basically your nightmare idea of a second date?”
“Yeah, pretty much. But you were so excited, I put on a brave face.”
This hadn’t been my first choice of leisure activity, but I was grateful to have gotten out of my comfort zone a little. Less so now, however.
“Awesome,” he laughed, smothering his face in his hands. “I am really batting a thousand here.”
“I have had fun,” I told him, taking his hand. Because I didn’t want him to think the day so far was a total loss. “Now, as far as second date . . .”
“Well, I don’t count making croissants as a date,” he quipped.
“What about being friends?”
