Page 57 of Flirting with Trouble

“That’s a loaded question.”

He flashes a playful grin and lets go of my chain. “Let’s see how high these things go.” He starts swinging.

I laugh.

“Afraid you can’t beat me?” He swings higher. “Where’s that adventurous girl who danced with me at the concert?”

“She’s about to kick your butt.” I grab the chains of my swing, push back until my legs are straight, and swing forward as hard as I can.

“Is that all you got?” he taunts.

We egg each other on, pumping our feet, swinging so high we bounce at the top. The sounds of the chains creaking and our teasing and laughter fills the air.

“Let’s see who can jump farther!” he shouts.

My heart races. “Are you crazy? I’m not jumping!”

“You definitely won’t be victorious with that attitude. Are you afraid?”

I haven’t jumped off a swing since I was a kid, so yeah, maybe I am a little afraid, but I’m not about to admit it. “No!”

“Yeah, you are!”

“Shut up. I am not!”

“Okay, then! On the count of three,” he shouts.

“You’re nuts!”

He laughs. “Be nuts with me, sweet thing! One!”

I try to remember how I gripped the chains when I was a kid. As I move one hand so it’s upside down gripping the chain, my elbow pointed out, I see he’s doing the same thing. My competitive nature drives me to pump my legs harder as I grip the other chain.

“Two!” he hollers.

We pump our feet, and as we swing forward, we both yell, “Three!” and jump. We fly through the air. My arms flail, and for a split second, as the world sails by, our eyes meet, and I feel young and free and not at all afraid. Our feet hit the ground, and we tumble into a tangled heap in the grass, cracking up.

“I can’t believe you got me to jump!” I say through my laughter and roll off his chest onto my back.

He leans over me. “I can’t believe you doubted I could.” He presses his lips to mine, and we both laugh again. “Let’s stay here tonight and explore the Inner Harbor tomorrow.”

My heart nearly stops out of sheer nervous excitement. “What about Tessa? Isn’t she waiting for us?”

“I might have told her that there was a chance we’d stay. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to go bar hopping or take advantage of me. I know how you are.”

“Might have, huh?”

“Believe me, I wanted to assume we’d stay and plan a whole night, but I feel lucky that you gave up your regular Friday-night dinner to come with me, and I didn’t want to push it.”

I’m having such a good time, I haven’t even felt guilty about not going to the tavern. “You’re serious? You really want to stay?”

“Absolutely. When’s the last time you explored someplace new?”

“I don’t know. I usually work on the weekends.”

“I got that impression when you said you buried yourself in work. Do you have anything lined up that can’t wait until Sunday?”

“No,” I say honestly, but even if I did have plans, I’d cancel them to stay with him.