Page 98 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
“Hey! I wasn’t done,” I pout.
“Well now I’m awake and it’s my turn,” she says and presses me onto my back. Leaning on one elbow, she trails her hand down my chest and under the sheet. The muscles of my abdomen tighten as her fingers skate across each dip and valley, brushing down the dusting of hair there.
“Rory,” I grumble, a warning in my voice, because I won’t hold back if she keeps this up.
“Yes?” she says sweetly, like that’s what she’s hoping for.
“You’re playing with fire, baby.”
Her fingers move lower, making my breath catch when she whispers, “I’m not afraid of burning, not with you.”
I grab her wrist, flipping us with ease so she’s pressed beneath me. Every inch of my body lines up against every inch of hers. I don’t release her, lifting her arm over her head toward the headboard. Then I follow suit with the other until both her hands are held in one of mine. I smooth my thumb over the delicate underside of one wrist and she melts beneath me.
“I hope that’s true.” With my kiss, we catch fire and burn until there’s nothing left but sweat and panting breaths between us.
I didn’t want to leave the warmth of my bed with Rory held safe in my arms. But her excitement, and that of my daughter, to climb the monstrous metal bridge looming before us pulled me from it—reluctantly.
It was always the plan to climb the Harbour Bridge on Willow’s eighth birthday, but then we spent it in Tahoe. Wehaven’t prioritized going since being back. I’m glad for that now, because this is perfect. I have both my girls bouncing on their toes beside me, anticipation rolling off them as they look toward the bridge.
Wes and Joss sidle up to us with the guide who’ll take us to the top for the most stunning three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the city.
“Are you ready?” I ask Willow and she nods, blue eyes alight, dark pigtail braids trailing down her back. I ask Rory the same and she beams her brightest smile, pressing up onto her tennis shoe–clad toes to coast her lips over mine.
“I am.”
“Y’all are insufferable,” Wes says and laughter overtakes the group, including the guide.
We put on our climb suits and harnesses, and Wes and Joss take the lead, hooking in first with Willow, me, and Rory following after. It’s a two-hour journey to the top and back down now that we’ve completed all of our pre-climb prep.
The sun is shining, there’s little to no cloud cover, and there’s visibility for miles. There’s not much opportunity to talk, but that doesn’t stop Willow from trying. She squeaks excitedly and points out different parts of the city to those of us who can hear her.
We stop as a group to take pictures at the top. Rory was disappointed when they told her she couldn’t bring her camera up with her. In fact, we all had to empty our belongings into lockers at the base of the bridge because they can’t have anything falling from top. We’re going to have to trust the professionals stationed up here to capture the moment for us.
“Alright, can you gather the whole family together for this first one?” the photographer asks, and I look at the four people around me. Theyaremy family. We squeeze in close and Istretch my arms across the back of the group, letting the feeling of rightness settle over me.
After our group picture, we all take some individual ones. When it’s just Rory and me left, I press my lips to hers then pull back a few inches, searching her face.
“I love you.” I breathe the words, only loud enough for her. My heart soars at her answering smile before she kisses me again.
“I love you too,” she whispers against my mouth, and I want to live forever in this moment. I’m literally on top of the world.
After our climb, Wes all but thrusts Rory’s suitcase at me, having packed it into the back of Joss’s car.
“No point in her sleeping on the couch at our place when there’s a perfectly good bed she can sleep in at yours,” he says with the all subtlety of a firework.
Willow’s excitement over the prospect of a sleepover with Rory is palpable, especially when she says, “It’s going to feel just like being back in Tahoe.”
Rory asking if she can tuck Willow in for bed after dinner is different than when we were in Tahoe, though. That was a boundary she never crossed even when we were living together, so her asking for this moment tonight gives me hope that the conversation we still need to have is going to go the way I want it to.
My heart squeezes as I watch them saunter back to Willow’s bedroom. I finish up with the dishes we left strewn on the tablewhen we opted to fit in a couple rounds of Attack Uno before Willow’s bedtime.
Grabbing the woven blanket off the couch, I head for the back door. The telltale creak as I open it and the mesh of the screen pulling away from the frame feel nostalgic as I step onto the back porch.
I toss the blanket onto the double Adirondack chair I built a few years back and start stacking logs in the firepit. This is my favorite part of this house. It’s what I’ll miss most if—
I break the thought, not ready to fully go there yet. Rory and I need to talk first.
I look over my shoulder, still bent over the firepit, and find Rory unabashedly checking me out from the stairs.
