Page 206 of Altius
The line moved forward again, and I gave his hand a gentle tug, urging him to keep up. “Window.”
“I thought so.”
I was unprepared to take the full brunt of his delighted, boyish smile, which made his dimples pop and eyes shine. Handsome to the extreme, but it was his genuine curiosity and thoughtfulness that made him so attractive.
“Booked you the window seat on both flights.”
Holding up my ticket so that it obscured his face, pretending I was asking him to read the fine print, I leaned in and stole a fleeting kiss.
Wyatt looked at me in surprise. “What was that for?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I teased, moving a few steps ahead of him. “I forgot. No kissing untilafterthe first date.”
***
Wyatt’s proposed itinerary was almost comically overloaded, especially for a frigid Saturday in February. I axed the proposed mountain hike and snow-tubing, suggesting we bundle up and explore the historic areas downtown instead.
We left our quaint hotel and wandered hand-in-hand through the snowy streets, drinking in the European ambiance, ducking into the occasional shop.
After buying souvenirs for the guys and my family, I suggested we try to find a housewarming gift for Kelsey.
Wyatt spotted a retro-inspired home goods boutique where we hit the jackpot: funky table linens and dishtowels, animal-themed spatulas, and a frilly, vintage-inspired apron in a foxprint reminiscent of one of Kelsey’s favorite sweaters. They were perfect. Exactly my sister’s taste, and easy to transport.
“Thought you didn’t care about kitchen stuff?” Wyatt asked, taking the bag from me as we walked out of the store.
“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been paying attention. She loves stuff like this. It’s only fitting that I reward her for respecting my preferences for so many years.”
We headed downhill toward the St. Lawrence River, into the Old Port area.
I spotted an ice skating rink and gave Wyatt a playful nudge. “Was that on your list of first date activities?”
Despite his windswept, ruddy complexion, a faint green tinge surfaced. “Uh, no. Definitely not.”
“What, no ice rinks in Arizona?”
“Baby, I’ve never even been roller-skating. I’ll fall on my ass in two seconds flat.”
“I think you’re selling yourself short. You’re in amazing shape and have excellent command over your center of gravity. Besides,” I said, huddling closer to whisper in his ear, “don’t you want to surprise Ethan when he challenges you to a hockey game next Christmas?”
Determination made Wyatt seem to double in size, and we were soon booted up and taking to the ice. However, despite my best efforts to guide him, Wyatt had never seemed more like a desert transplant than when he was shuffling along in his skates, trying not to faceplant.
I rewarded him with a small mountain of poutine, which we ate in a cute bistro, overlooking the frozen river as the light began to fade.
“Are we heading back to the hotel now?” Given my night vision issues, I wasn’t thrilled by the idea of being out after dark in an unfamiliar city.
“Not yet. There’s still one last item on the date to-do list.”
He nodded toward the snowy river and a bridge leading to an island where a mammoth Ferris wheel slowly turned, illuminated by enchanting blue lights.
“Appealing to my weaknesses,” I said with a soft smile, bundling myself back up to brave the cold once more.
It didn’t matter whether it was ten feet or ten thousand, I loved to be up high, pretending I was soaring.
Huddled together for warmth, we rushed across the bridge, at the mercy of the unforgiving wind whipping off the ice. To our surprise—and relief—the gondola was heated.
Even so, we settled on the same bench, my head resting on Wyatt’s shoulder as we took to the sky.
Our first rotation passed in comfortable silence as we drank in the fairytale charm of the streets below.
