Page 85 of Holding Grace

“It’s cute,” he answered, breaking into a grin. “Just a little...uh, windblown.”

Oh lord. I closed my eyes and shook my head. No doubt I’d shriek when I saw myself in a mirror.

As we dipped through the bottom part of the circle, Michael reached over, smoothed my hair into a low ponytail with both hands, then held it securely in the hand he’d rested on my far shoulder.

“Maybe this will help. I should have thought of it before. You okay with it?”

With him stroking his big, warm hands over my hair? Or with him holding it, gripping it in his hand, not tight or painful, just secure, like he might if I was...

I took a quick breath as I slammed on my mental brakes. I nodded, avoiding Michael’s eyes so he wouldn’t see the rated-R detour my mind had just taken.

We completed two more rotations without incident. Michael held my hand as we exited our seat and made our way down the steep steps, then much to my disappointment let it go when we reached secure ground.

I tossed my empty cup in a nearby trash can then turned back to Michael, running one hand over my head.

“Okay, be honest. How bad is it?”

Michael gently edged my hand away and fixed whatever I’d displaced. “It isn’t. Bad, I mean. You look great.”

He pushed his hands in his jacket pockets as he had most of the evening and looked around at the various tents, rides, games, and outdoor areas lined with lights.

“What do you want to do next?”

Go back on the Ferris wheel so I can be snuggled up next to with your hand in my hair? How would he respond if I said that?

I didn’t have the courage to find out.

“Well...” I let my eyes take the same path that Michael’s had. “We visited the sponsor lounge and the beer and wine gardens, we walked through the vendor tents, rode the Ferris wheel, and went down the alpine slide, which I still haven’t forgiven you for, by the way.”

Michael chuckled at the look I gave him. “You loved it, admit it.”

When I’d seen the ride’s name, I’d thought it was, well, a slide, as in a sloping hill-like structure that you slide down on your butt.

It wasn’t.

It was a steep descent on a narrow path which you careened down on a wheeled cart with dicey steering and very questionable brakes. I’d sat in front of Michael, his legs on either side of me, gripping his strong thighs and praying with everything I had that we made it down alive.

So, it had been a tiny bit exhilarating. And the feel of Michael’s muscular body surrounding me hadn’t sucked.

“I survived it,” I finally shot back at Michael, sounding less than convincing even to myself.

He chuckled again and I couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“We might want to head over to the fireworks viewing area. I’m sure we can see them fine from anywhere, but Jamey mentioned there’s a VIP area we have access to.”

We headed that way, making our way around the edge of the large man-made lake adjacent to the event grounds. When we reached the VIP area, we realized that the fireworks show would take place right over the lake.

VIPs had access to a roped off section right at the front of the viewing area. It was a little more than half full when Michael and I arrived, people standing in couples or groups, some sipping their beverage of choice, talking and laughing while waiting for the fireworks to start.

Determined not to let things get uncomfortable with Michael after the nice evening we’d had, I curled my hands into my sleeves against a sudden cold gust and turned to him.

“Thanks for bringing me. This has been fun.”

Michael didn’t seem to notice the cold. I wore several layers, flannel-lined jeans, thick socks with my boots, and gloves, and his jacket wasn’t even zipped all the way up.

“It has been,” Michael agreed. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I think people are going to like it.”

“I think they are, too.” Another gust of wind hit me, and I shivered. “I hope the weather stays decent.”

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