Page 90 of 10 Signs You Need to Grovel

I join her and peer down at the water. “It’s not quite as tall as the jump we used to do.”

She leans back a bit. “I think it’s taller.”

“Sprite.” I face her and cock my head. “Are you afraid of heights now?”

“No,” she says quickly. “I’m fine. I’d jump.” But she takes another step back.

“You’re afraid of heights.”

She looks ready to keep lying, then her shoulders sag. “I’m maybe a bit more freaked out by heights now.”

“So why’d you bring me up here?”

She shrugs a shoulder and scrunches her cute nose. “You used to love jumping off the cliff into Bear Lake. I wanted to do something fun with you.”

Just when I didn’t think I could love her any more. “You’re facing your fear for me.”

She doesn’t reply, just knocks into my side and rests her head on my chest.

“You don’t have to jump, honey.” I breathe in the fresh air, loving the heat of the sun on my skin. The heat of Sadie leaning on me, while learning new things about her . . . so I can use that intel to rile her up. “I can just jump on my own and heckle you from the bottom.”

She smacks my stomach. “Still so obnoxious.”

“It’s a gift,” I say and pinch her side.

“Coming through!” a guy bellows, then blows past us in a running leap, hollering as he launches into the air and falls down, down, down, smack into the water.

Sadie gasps and clutches her chest.

I laugh at her horrified expression. She may have developed a fear of heights, but I don’t think she just came up here for me. I think she wants to remember what it’s like to be wild and youthful. Not think before she acts, when all she’s done for the past decade is think and plan.

I drop my head to her eye level. “Jump with me, Sprite. I’ll hold your hand.”

She worries her lip. “I don’t know. I mean, I want to. I’m just . . . ugh.” Her wide eyes find mine. “Why does this scare me now?”

“Because you have more to lose.” A son she loves. A great job. Adult responsibilities. Hopefully me. “But that’s just your adrenaline talking. You’re a badass who slays at axe throwing. And we’re safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me. We’ll do it together.”

She blinks a few times, then nods and firms her jaw. “Yep. Yes. I used to do this all the time. I’m being silly, freaking out over nothing.”

“That’s my girl.”

I check that the water below is clear, then I take her hand and lead us away from the edge, preparing for a running launch. “Ready?” I ask.

Her face is on the pale side, but her body is pitched forward, determination in her tense expression. “I was born ready.”

God, I love this woman.

I give her hand a squeeze, then we’re running and jumping, the air rushing at us as Sadie screams and I whoop, my grin almost as wide as her shell-shocked eyes. We hit the water with a crack, the force of it pulling us apart. I kick up, breaching the surface with a gasp, and there she is, the center of my world, grinning and laughing, my chest so full and warm I’m sure I swallowed the sun on my way down.

We swim over to a shallower section and laze about for a bit, floating and swimming around each other as we talk and laugh. A few families are nearby, along with other couples on the surrounding rocks. Regular people out in the Sunday sun, having fun and relaxing, and I’m struck by how long it’s been since I’ve done something like this. Just enjoyed a day for the sake of it.

“I want a do-over on my wild and frivolous wish,” I say.

Sadie kisses my wet neck, fits herself behind me as we balance on a rock. “What’s your new choice?”

“This.”

She sighs happily. “It’s a slice of paradise.”