Page 83 of Worth the Fall

GRANT

There are hard limits.

And then there are hard limits.

Like watching the specks in the sky above me as they hurtle to the ground and knowing one of them is Emerson.

My hand shields my eyes, and my stomach churns when I think of the feeling of falling. It’s total bullshit, there’s no way you can launch yourself into thin air and not feel like your stomach shoves up into your throat.

“C’mon, c’mon,” I murmur to myself as I wait for what feels like hours to see the parachutes deploy.

“A few more seconds,” Leo says and startles me. I was so focused on Emerson that I hadn’t realized he’d walked out.

I glance back to the sky in time to see the first parachute explode in a bloom of color. One after the other they open, dragging each jumper higher before slowly floating down again.

I want to say I breathe a little easier, but fuck if I’m not nauseated just watching the whole process.

“You really don’t like this, do you?” Leo asks, giving me that look that says I’m a disgrace to the male gender for being such a pussy.

I glare at him from behind my sunglasses, saying, “You people are all fucking crazy.”

“Yes, we are.”

The phone rings in the office, and he heads back in to answer it while the parachutes continue to get bigger as they glide closer to the ground. From the corner of my eye, I watch the field person get ready to help jumpers if they need assistance, but I never take my full attention away from trying to find Emerson.

I mean, I know she’s fine, but I need to see it for my own eyes. And when I do, my feet start moving on automatic to where she is standing amid the long grass of the field with a huge grin on her face.

“Great jump, everyone,” she says as she goes from jumper to jumper and pats them on the back or gives them a high five. She takes pictures of a few of them, and some ask her to be a part of the shot with them.

“I have it, Em,” Leo says, appearing out of nowhere when she begins to detach the parachute rigs for the clients. “You need to make sure Nervous Nelly over there’s heart is still beating.”

I open my mouth to make a dig of my own, but when Emerson laughs, it stops the words on my lips. She looks my way and waves animatedly before holding up a finger to tell me just a minute.

Leo may have offered to help, but the control freak in her can’t simply walk away without checking all the rigs out. She heads to the pack nearest her and tugs on one part or another before moving to the next.

Definitely a control freak.

Which, of course, was why I let her think she was in control the other night. Anything to make her feel comfortable in the moment and keep what we had going.

And going it did. Very well, too. So well that I pulled the friends with benefits bullshit out of thin air yesterday as a way to get what I want—more of her, in any way, shape, or form I can get her.

She bends over and tugs on the last jumper’s pack before laughing at something Leo says to her. And the adrenalized, carefree tone of it stops me in my tracks. Realization hits that I want to be the one who makes her laugh like that.

Christ. I know I want more with her—what that more is, I’m not sure—but until I heard that tone to her laugh, I hadn’t realized how much I wanted it.

Studying her as she walks toward me, I know I’ll pay whatever cost to make sure that happens.

“You have some serious balls,” I say off the cuff the minute she’s within speaking distance.

“At least someone does,” Leo coughs out, and I lift a finger in his direction, but my attention is focused on Em—the flush in her cheeks, the lines around her eyes where her goggles pressed against her skin, the ear-to-ear grin on her lips.

She laughs and shakes her head. “We both know that isn’t true,” she says in a voice for only my ears followed by a wink. “You missed a good jump. Perfect conditions. Great visibility. Calm wind.”

“I appreciate the hustle, but I’m not buying.”

“You don’t have to buy; you already have a gift certificate.”

“You’re relentless.”