Ben stands almost an inch taller, his hands balled into fists on his hips. “Of course I did. I promised you I would.” He points toward thebathroom. “Now go take a plunge in our little private pool in there while I arrange for us to see to a few of the stops on your bucket list.” And with that, he walks out the bathroom doors, closing them behind him.
Forty minutes later,I’ve changed into a pair of skinny jeans and a T-shirt and emerged feeling lighter than I’ve felt in years.
“Better?”
“Yes. But I hope you’re okay with casual. I didn’t exactly pack that stunning silver cocktail dress you bought me months ago.”
“This works for now. And I’ll see what I can do about a change of clothes for dinner and dancing later.”
My cheeks ache from the stretch of my smile. “Dinner and dancing?”
“Well, sure. We can’t re-enact Rusty and Lucky’s movie without going out for dinner and a show. And, boy, did they dance.” He chuckles.
I let out a snort, attempting to picture this larger-than-life man watching that old movie—Ann-Margret and Elvis gyrating all over the screen.
Ben holds out his hand for me. “Come on, Gracie. Let’s go paint the town red.”
Moments later, we’re being whisked away to what appears to be a private airplane hangar. Ben escorts me toward a helicopter in the distance, and I shake with both nervousness and excitement. The helicopter pilot greets us before ushering us inside.
The hum of the helicopter’s rotors vibrates through my chest, and I swear my heart is trying to keep up with it. I grab the seatbelt like it’s a lifeline, but my fingers tighten more around Ben’s hand when I realize he’s sliding his over mine. My stomach does a little flip. I don’t know whether it’s from fear, anticipation,or him.
“Relax,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “You’re safe with me.”
I want to argue, but I can’t. His calm presence makes the fear inside me shrink, just a little. The pilot taps the intercom.
“Ready for lift-off? We’ll climb to about fifteen hundred feet, then head toward the dam. There are amazing views ahead.”
Then before I know it, we’re surging into the sky. The helicopter lifts off, jerking me against Ben’s side. I press a little closer, my cheek brushing the warmth of his arm. Below, the desert stretches endlessly, awash in yellows and burned sienna. The Colorado River threads through the canyon like a silver snake.
Ben leans closer, his breath warm on my ear. “Hold on tight,” he says, and there’s a teasing edge to his voice that makes my stomach do another somersault. I almost laugh, but it comes out as a breathless exhale.
I gasp when I see the Hoover Dam from above. It’s enormous. I’d never imagined actually seeing it firsthand, so I’m not entirely sure what I expected it to look like. Its concrete walls gleam in the sunlight. The river below twists and glimmers like liquid glass. I can see the tiny powerhouses at the base and the winding roads clinging to the periphery.
The pilot’s voice comes through the headset, but I hardly hear him. “It was completed in 1936. It’s supposed to be a symbol of human ingenuity.”
I nod absently, my eyes fixed on the dam, my hand entwined with Ben’s. He squeezes my fingers gently. “Imagine building something this massive in the middle of a desert during the Depression,” he murmurs. “It’s insane.”
I turn slightly to glance at him. The sunlight catches his jaw. His dark inky hair falls across his forehead, and my chest tightens. How is it he’s as mesmerizing as the view below? “I can’t even imagine the effort, the planning… the people who built this,” I whisper.
The helicopter dips, giving me a sweeping view down the length of the dam. Water thunders from the spillways, mist sparkling like diamonds. My laugh escapes me, small and breathless, and Ben leans closer again, brushing his arm along mine. I can feel the heat radiating from him, feel the subtle press of his thigh against mine.
“See?” he questions, his voice close enough that I feel it tickle my skin. “Even that which seems impossible, seems so until it’s done.”
I shiver. “Is that a famous quote?”
“Well, Nelson Mandela said something similar.” His words, the closeness, the hum of the rotors…this moment feels electric.
My fingers curl around his, holding on a little tighter. “It’s… perfect,” I breathe, barely daring to look at him. But when I do, his eyes hold mine, and suddenly everything else, the canyon, the dam, the river, it all disappears.
The helicopter banks, and for a moment, I feel dizzy, not from the height, but from Ben. From the way he’s here like no man ever has been.
We fly in silence, letting the wind and the hum fill the space, but my chest hammers with anticipation, every nerve alive with the promise of more. Then he tilts his head toward me, eyes dark and playful. “Ready for the next turn?”
I laugh, my voice caught somewhere between thrill and something dangerous. I squeeze his hand, holding it like a lifeline, and lean into him a little. The helicopter dips again, and he throws an arm around me. My heart races, not from the drop, but from the warmth of his body against mine, both his nearness, and this undeniable pull between us I don’t want to fight anymore. And in this moment, high above the Hoover Dam, everything feels possible, just as he said. I realize I’ve never wanted anything, or anyone, like this before.
The helicopter skids to a stop, rotors whirring down to a low hum. My heart hasn’t slowed. If anything, it’s pounding harder. I blink against the bright Nevada sun, still dazed from what just transpired.
Ben unbuckles his harness and slides the visor off, his hair slightly mussed and equally as delicious. It’s taking real effort not to reach up and run my fingers through it. He’s looking at me inthatway. The way that makes me want to melt on the spot.
