Page 10 of Christmas in Paris
But his daughter, without even knowing it, kept him from doing whatever stupid thing that he probably would have otherwise done. It was a bit of a surprise to hear from her, actually. Part of the deal had been that he wouldn’t bug her too much, that he’d treat her like any of the other kids. That had been the only way she’d been okay with him coming along.
“Hey, Ash,” he greeted her, and she shot him a smug grin in return.
“Bonjour, Papa,” she replied, and he groaned and rolled his eyes in an exaggerated way that made her giggle, and which was supposed to do just that.
“I’m the only person here who doesn’t speak French,” he complained. “How’s Paris so far for you?”
“It’s awesome. Can you even believe that we’re standing on the Eiffel Tower right now?” she asked, her enthusiasm obvious and completely shared by Ray, who nodded. “It’s crazy. Are you having fun?”
Ray found one corner of his mouth wanted to sneak up into a little smirk. Was he having fun? Well, if unresolved sexual tension with her teacher was fun, he was having a blast. But that was something that she didn’t need to hear about.
“Yeah, I am,” he admitted, and he was. The whole thing with Simon was confusing, yes, but it didn’t change the fact that he was in Paris, and that that was a dream come true. He even had, he realized, the most important person in his life right there with him. It couldn’t get much better.
“Good. I want to go up to that higher floor up there,” Ashley informed him. “Can we?”
One of her friends overheard, and then suddenly, all thirty kids were clamoring to go up. Ray turned to look at Simon, who looked alarmed.
“No way. It’s way too high up,” Simon protested. Ray laughed and looped his arm around Simon’s waist. It was just a friendly sort of teasing thing, he figured, and none of the kids even seemed to notice.
“Come on. I bet you’ve never been up there. Let’s go.”
Chapter Eight
Simon
It wasn’t that Simon had any particular problem with heights. It was just that there was such a thing as too damn high. That was all. He had never been quite brave enough to go all the way to the top of the tower. It was hundreds of feet in the air, and he had just never seen the need.
But something about the way that Ray was looking at him made it impossible for him to turn the other man down. Ray made him want to be brave, even reckless, and that was just one more thing about the younger man that made him utterly irresistible to Simon. And yet, he somehow had to resist.
Maybe he could have found a way to turn Ray down, but then every one of the students backed him up. They all wanted to go, and Simon found himself with very little choice but to get into the elevator with his class.
In the elevator, which wasn’t particularly large, he tried to tell himself that he wasn’t deeply thrilled by the way Ray was pressed right up against him. Their hands brushed, and just as Simon wished that he could take Ray’s hand in his own, he felt the sweet, all-too-brief, deeply intimate curl of fingers around his own. It lasted just long enough for him to be sure that it wasn’t an accident, and then it was gone as the elevator doors slid open.
Simon let himself be pulled out along with everyone else, feeling the air around him. The wind up here was strong enough that it lifted his hair, and everyone else’s, with playful fingers, and when he glanced over at Ray, his heart jumped uncomfortably in his chest.
The man was so damn beautiful, and at least half of it was the smile on his face, the easygoing attitude, the way he was with the kids. Even as Simon looked at him, Ray was smiling and laughing so easily with one of the girls, a young lady that Simon knew as being somewhat sullen and uncooperative. The daughter, actually, of the woman who had screwed him over so thoroughly, or who would have, if she could. Mandy always seemed very quiet and withdrawn, like she was used to being repressed, but when she grinned at Ray, she looked just as radiant and beautiful as every teenager should.
Although from the looks of it, she had a bit of a crush on Ray. Who could blame her? It seemed likely that they would all, every single person on this trip, end up heads over heels in love with the gorgeous, charismatic man. Simon knew he was in a dangerous situation, though, because there was always the chance that he could be with Ray. Mandy didn’t have that, but Simon did.
He was going to have to be careful of thoughts like that, though. Because it wasn’t an option, and that was the number one thing that he needed to keep in mind.
It would just take time, he supposed, until he could stop thinking about the kiss they’d shared. Was it on Ray’s mind, too? Another dangerous thought process, and he knew it. Things like this were a slippery slope. Shouldn’t he know? He had ended up with Nick in just such a gradual, slow, natural way. He didn’t think that Ray was anything like Nick, not really, not deep down, but they had enough in common that Simon had to be careful.
They were both gorgeous and in the same tall, blond, leanly-muscled way. They were both open, friendly, and charismatic. And while Simon was almost certain that Ray didn’t have the same malice hiding in his eyes that Nick did, he hadn’t seen it at first in Nick, either, so how could he be sure?
Ray might have been just exactly what he seemed. But was that a chance that Simon could take? It had taken him far too long to get over Nick, so why would he put himself through more? Why would he even take the risk?
And so on, his thoughts raced, the tracks through his mind worn wide and deep just through the sheer amount of practice they had. It would have continued for hours more, most likely, but then Simon felt something grip around his wrist, tugging him away from the dubious shelter of the tower and out toward the guardrails at the very edge.
It was Ray, who, it seemed, wasn’t content simply to get him up here. Simon cast the other man a startled look, but he allowed himself to be pulled, reassured by the look of mischief he saw on Ray’s face. Ray was the sort of guy who was always pulling people to the edge, Simon was sure of that, and this time he was doing it metaphorically, but he was also doing it physically.
“Close your eyes,” Ray suggested, his voice low and intimate in Simon’s ear, his hand still wrapped around Simon’s wrist. “Feel the wind through your hair. Doesn’t it feel like you’re flying?”
For Simon to relax and let himself trust was an incredibly rare thing. For him to do it hundreds of feet up in the air, in an incredibly hazardous social situation, and with kids in his care, that was not only rare but completely unknown. He should have laughed, made some joke that wasn’t a joke, anything to defuse the situation.
Instead, he did something that he wouldn’t have expected from himself in a million years. He gripped the handrail, yes, but he did close his eyes, breathed deeply, and let the wind ruffle through his hair. He found himself smiling because Ray was right. It did feel a lot like he was flying, like he was completely free and clear with nothing, not his thoughts or anyone else, to hold him back.
It was glorious, and as Simon opened his eyes again, he glanced over so that the first person he saw was Ray.
