Page 245 of Off Limits: The Firsts

Grant Malone.

Saved me.

Stop it, Em. Don’t think about him.

Look at the fields sprawled out.

I knew it was bound to happen when I moved back here.

At the waves crashing against the cliffs beyond.

He is from before. I’m only about the now.

At the cars on the highway in the distance that look like ants crawling home in the early evening light.

I close my eyes, hating that I’m missing a single moment of my descent, but I use the moment to refocus my thoughts and shift gears.

With another slide of my jaw to re-equalize the pressure in my ears, I open my eyes and force myself to admire the beauty of it all.

After a bit, sometime between the lull of the gliding and the serenity of the silence, I’m able to shut the world out and do just that. Enjoy the moment that will surely dissipate the minute my feet hit the ground.

I think about what I’ll do with this place once Blue Skies becomes mine. Fresh paint on the sign. New marketing to tourists and locals. Convert the empty hangar into a clubhouse of sorts to entice the adrenaline junkies to stay longer and spend more money.

I have to get the loan first. Then I can dream.

My mental checklist begins again. The one I use to make sure I don’t neglect a single thing. It’s too easy to become comfortable when jumping out of an airplane day after day, so I use the repetition as my safety net.

My lone leash to sanity.

Plus it helps me to forget about Grant.

Well, in theory anyway.

“Desi’s thinking of having another one of her barbecues again.”

My jump coordinator’s eyes light up and his lips spread into a huge grin. “Tell her thinking is not an option,” Leo says. “She needs to pick a date and commit so my stomach knows when it’s going to get treated to the good stuff again.”

“No shit.” I laugh and shake my head. Friends, food, and relaxation are just what the doctor ordered. Especially when it’s her food.

“Just promise I won’t be forgotten when the invites go out.” He holds his hands together as if he’s praying.

“I promise.”

The phone rings on the desk before me, and Leo goes back to finalizing his schedules.

“Blue Skies, this is Emerson, how may I help you?”

“Emerson! Just the person I wanted to talk to.”

“Great. Who’s this?” I glance over to Leo, who’s sitting at his desk laughing at something.

“It’s Chris Severson with Sunnyville Trust and Loan.”

“Hi, Chris,” I say as I sink down into my chair and glance at the list of reports and paperwork he still needs for the loan. Of the ten items on it, I’ve only been able to cross two off as completed, and I don’t understand what three of the remaining eight even mean or how to go about figuring them out. “What can I do for you?”

“I was just calling to see where you are with getting the information I’d requested.”

“It’s coming. Slowly.” I chuckle because I already feel like I’m drowning.