The engine’s roar fills my ears.
I run through my mental checklist. Finish. Then begin it again as the rush of cold air dances around me and whips against my cheeks. My earplugs shift as I slide my jaw out of habit to equalize the pressure in my ears.
I glance over to where Leo is double-checking his own gear. “Head up. Wings out!” I shout over the roar. He gives me a thumbs-up, and with that, I loosen my grip on the door and dive headfirst.
My breath catches. My blood is flooded with adrenaline. My body spirals and hurtles and tumbles in a seemingly endless free fall.
But there is silence in my head. Peace. A bliss I can’t find anywhere else as I gain control of my dive, stabilize, and master the arch of my body. The ocean in the distance and the rolling green hills of northern California laid out like a topography map beneath me are as stunning as the first time I saw them like this.
There are no demands from Chris and his bank.
There are no duties left to fulfill for Travis before I can call it a night.
There are no thoughts of Grant Malone and those brown eyes of his that met mine yesterday and surprised the hell out of me.
There are no demons from my past—the ones seeing him again brought out of hiding—trying to weasel their way in.
It’s freedom.
It’s just me hurtling toward the earth at what feels like a million miles an hour in what could be certain death.
It’s my hand deploying the ripcord and my body jolting against the force before rebounding up as the parachute opens and saves me from that death.
Yanking me back to reality.
My parachute.
Saving me.
Grant Malone.
Saved me.
Stop it, Em. Don’t think about him.
Look at the fields sprawled out.
I knew it was bound to happen when I moved back here.
At the waves crashing against the cliffs beyond.
He is from before. I’m only about the now.
At the cars on the highway in the distance that look like ants crawling home in the early evening light.
I close my eyes, hating that I’m missing a single moment of my descent, but I use the moment to refocus my thoughts and shift gears.
With another slide of my jaw to re-equalize the pressure in my ears, I open my eyes and force myself to admire the beauty of it all.
After a bit, sometime between the lull of the gliding and the serenity of the silence, I’m able to shut the world out and do just that. Enjoy the moment that will surely dissipate the minute my feet hit the ground.
I think about what I’ll do with this place once Blue Skies becomes mine. Fresh paint on the sign. New marketing to tourists and locals. Convert the empty hangar into a clubhouse of sorts to entice the adrenaline junkies to stay longer and spend more money.
I have to get the loan first. Then I can dream.
My mental checklist begins again. The one I use to make sure I don’t neglect a single thing. It’s too easy to become comfortable when jumping out of an airplane day after day, so I use the repetition as my safety net.
My lone leash to sanity.
Plus it helps me to forget about Grant.
Well, in theory anyway.
“Desi’s thinking of having another one of her barbecues again.”
My jump coordinator’s eyes light up and his lips spread into a huge grin. “Tell her thinking is not an option,” Leo says. “She needs to pick a date and commit so my stomach knows when it’s going to get treated to the good stuff again.”
“No shit.” I laugh and shake my head. Friends, food, and relaxation are just what the doctor ordered. Especially when it’s her food.
“Just promise I won’t be forgotten when the invites go out.” He holds his hands together as if he’s praying.
“I promise.”
The phone rings on the desk before me, and Leo goes back to finalizing his schedules.
“Blue Skies, this is Emerson, how may I help you?”
“Emerson! Just the person I wanted to talk to.”
“Great. Who’s this?” I glance over to Leo, who’s sitting at his desk laughing at something.
“It’s Chris Severson with Sunnyville Trust and Loan.”
“Hi, Chris,” I say as I sink down into my chair and glance at the list of reports and paperwork he still needs for the loan. Of the ten items on it, I’ve only been able to cross two off as completed, and I don’t understand what three of the remaining eight even mean or how to go about figuring them out. “What can I do for you?”
“I was just calling to see where you are with getting the information I’d requested.”
“It’s coming. Slowly.” I chuckle because I already feel like I’m drowning.
“I know the list of requirements can be overwhelming, so know that you aren’t the only one who feels that way.” Sympathy resonates in his voice.
“That’s good to know. Since I’ve never applied for a loan before, I thought I was the only one.”
“No. Not at all. Is there anything I can help you with?”
My laugh is part mortification, part reprieve. “Really?”
“Of course. Since you decided to forego having a broker represent you—”
“Only because I know the owners of Blue Skies and they preferred not to use one,” I feel the need to explain for what seems like the tenth time. What he doesn’t need to know is the lack of a broker was my idea. I simply won’t have the extra funds to pay them their fees once the deal is done. I’m stretched thin as it is.
“No need to explain, Emerson. It isn’t always necessary to have a broker. Besides, I told you I’d walk you through everything step by step, and I will.”
My shoulders sag in relief. “Thank you. I really do appreciate it. You don’t know how much this means to me to have found—”
“No need to thank me.”
“I still feel I should.”
“How about this? How about we meet for a working dinner? It will give me a chance to review everything with you and answer the questions you have.”
“I couldn’t impose on you like that.”
“Nonsense. It’s just one of the many services I provide my clients.”
I chew my bottom lip, torn between pride and necessity. The silence stretches. “That would be great. I’d appreciate it.”
“Good. Then it’s settled.” He laughs, and I can hear a horn honk in the background. “I’m driving so I can’t access my schedule. Let me check it and I’ll email you some dates and times that will work.”
“That sounds great. Again, Chris . . . thank you.”