Taste of Romance (7 page)

She froze, her stomach taking a ninety-degree dive straight into a pool of dread.
Did he intend to take her up off the ground in that thing . . . and
fly?

Chapter Six

Life is a daring adventure or nothing at all.

—Helen Keller

“W
HAT’S WRONG?”
N
ATHANIEL
asked, his smile fading as she drew closer. “Are you afraid of heights?”

“No,” she said, each step toward him heavier than the next. “I’m afraid of
flying
.”

He gave her a hesitant half-grin. “Are you sure you don’t want to even try?”

Her gut wrenched with indecision. Nathaniel had looked so excited when he first saw
her. She glanced at the open picnic basket that he had placed on the ground by his
feet and saw sandwiches, red grapes, cinnamon rolls, and two plastic glasses.

Dear God, she didn’t want to disappoint him, didn’t want to ruin things between them
before they even got started. Kim looked from him to the balloon, then back to the
hope in his beautiful blue eyes.

He pulled away from her gaze and shrugged. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I got the idea
when I carried one of your paintings out to the Cupcake Mobile during the fire. The
painting of the sky full of balloons, with the girl on the ground reaching out her
hand as if yearning to fly over the trees and set off on a grand adventure of her
own.”

Kim stared at him. “That’s exactly how I felt when I painted it.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“My mother. She died in a plane crash when I was seventeen, and my plans to travel
the world crashed with her. I tried to board a plane after college. I got my passport,
bought my ticket, walked up the boarding ramp . . . and I panicked. All the memories
of my mother’s death came flooding back, and I couldn’t go on.”

“So you fear your own death?”

“I fear being hurt,” Kim said, and tried to swallow the painful memory. “She . . .
didn’t die right away.”

“This is my brother’s balloon,” Nathaniel told her. “At festivals we take people up
a hundred feet, but the balloon stays tethered to the ground the whole time. We don’t
have to go up in the balloon if you don’t want.” He shrugged. “We can have our picnic
right here on the ground among the other people waiting to get eaten by trolls.”

Kim smiled and looked up at the balloon again. How she did yearn to fly!

“Maybe we could have our picnic in the basket while it’s tethered to the ground?”
she asked. “Or . . . as long as it’s still held by a rope, we could lift off the ground
just a little bit? Like, maybe only a few feet?”

The enormous smile Nathaniel gave her erased her doubts over the suggestion, and he
replied, “
Ja,
we could do that.”

Taking Nathaniel’s hand, she climbed into the wicker basket connected to the balloon
above by a series of strong cables. The basket was large enough to hold sixteen people
and open enough to keep her from feeling claustrophobic. If she wanted to, she could
climb over the side and jump out any time she wished.

Nathaniel sat beside her on a portable box with the picnic basket between them. Kim
discovered the bottle she’d seen in his hand earlier wasn’t wine, but champagne.

“Is this a champagne brunch?” she inquired.

Nathaniel took the bottle, popped the cork, and poured her a glass. “When people first
began ballooning, the balloonist would carry champagne to soothe angry or frightened
spectators at the landing site.”

Kim smiled. “Perfect for me.”

“These days a champagne toast is tradition upon landing,” he told her. “But since
we aren’t going anywhere, we might as well have some now.” Raising his glass, he said,
“To soft winds and gentle landings.”

And to soft, gentle kisses.
Kim glanced at his mouth. She wouldn’t mind if he kissed her.

“Nathaniel—does everyone call you Nathaniel, or do you go by Nat or Nate?”

“They call me Nathaniel. To reduce the name my parents chose for me would dishonor
them.”

Kim took a sip of champagne and smiled. “Why? Are you part of royalty or something?”

He laughed and shook his head. “No. Not royalty. But my mother couldn’t love me any
more than the most upstanding person, and this is how I show her respect.”

Kim raised her brows. “I never thought about it like that. Everyone I know uses nicknames.
Seems easier in a fast-paced world.”

“What is your full name?” he asked.

“Kimberly Nicole Burke.”

“Doesn’t anyone in your family use your full name?”

“My mother did.”

“And your father?”

Kim smirked. “He doesn’t call me much of anything, and when he does, it’s Kim. My
father likes to keep things short.”

“And sweet?” Nathaniel prompted.

“No, just short,” Kim corrected. “My relationship with him . . . is difficult.”

“Kimberly is a beautiful name. I like it very much.”

He leaned close enough to take her breath away, and her heart pounded in her chest.
But no kiss.

“Would you like to go higher? Ten feet?” he asked, his hands already on the burner,
ready to pump the flame.

She nodded and gripped the edge of the box on which she was sitting. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Nathaniel worked the burner and the fan, which directed the hot air from the short
bursts of flame into the gaping mouth of the balloon. To Kim’s surprise, a thrill
of excitement instead of fear shot through her, and when she looked at Nathaniel,
she couldn’t stop smiling.

“I’ve always wanted to go up in a hot air balloon,” Kim admitted, pulling herself
over to the edge and gripping the cable attached to the balloon. “Do you want to go
higher?”

Nathaniel’s eyes sparkled. “Do you?”

“At least to twenty-five feet,” she suggested.

The balloon lifted, and a great weight she didn’t even know she had been carrying
seemed to lift with it, leaving her light and bubbly. Could it be the champagne? Doubtful.
She hadn’t even finished one glass.

“Oh, Nathaniel, isn’t it wonderful? Imagine flying over the hillside, past the cupcake
shop, and across the Columbia River to the other side. Imagine the sights we could
see!”

“You don’t have to imagine, Kimberly. Some sights were meant to be seen firsthand.”
He tied the rope to secure them at twenty-five feet and came back to sit beside her.
“I could tell you about my homeland in Sweden, but if you were to go there and see
it with your own eyes . . . well, it’s a different thing altogether.”

She thought of her bulletin board in her room filled with pictures of all the places
she’d like to travel. Thought of the empty pages of her blank passport, which she
had renewed and kept current . . . just in case.

Finishing the champagne, she handed him her glass and took the delicious-smelling
gourmet beef and cheese sandwich on golden crusted bread he held out to her.

“It must be hard for you to be so far away from the rest of your family,” she said
and took a bite of the sandwich.

“My parents are coming for my brother’s wedding, and then I’ll be leaving with them
for home three days later.”

Kim coughed, sputtered, but managed to squeeze out the words “You’re
leaving?
”

Maybe it was better if he didn’t kiss her. She didn’t need a repeat of the past, didn’t
need Nathaniel to leave her behind like Gavin. Sitting at the airport. Waving goodbye.
Alone
.

“How long will you stay?” she asked and set the sandwich down in her lap.

“Forever if my mother has anything to do with it.” Nathaniel shook his head and gave
her a rueful grin. “My mother never wanted me to come here in the first place.”

“What about your roses?” she asked. “Sjölander’s Garden Nursery?”

“My brother will take care of her,” he said and smiled. “Now, what do you think of
your first balloon flight?”

Kim’s stomach churned. “I—I think I need you to take me down.”

Nathaniel frowned. “Just a moment ago I saw the excitement in your eyes, heard the
longing for adventure in your voice. I don’t think you’re afraid of flying, Kimberly.
I think you’re afraid to fly, to let go, to take hold of your dreams. Perhaps afraid
of where they will take you.”

She wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t let his warm, lilting, musical voice penetrate
her heart. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” Drawing her close, he brushed his mouth against hers and kissed her.

Kim resisted at first, but his lips were so soft and gentle, that her eyes closed,
and she found herself lost in a world of enchantment, of wonder, bursting through
the air, soaring . . . flying . . . higher and higher.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered, holding her tight.

She opened her eyes slowly, her lashes fluttering against her skin. Then she looked
up into his face, just inches from her own, and her heart signaled she’d just taken
the trip of a lifetime.

“Don’t hate me,” he said, his mouth twitching as if to hide a smile. “But I may have
let the rope slip a bit further.”

Kim glanced around her and tightened her grip around his waist. “We’re high. Like,
fifty feet high!”

“More like seventy-five.”

Kim gasped. And smiled. And laughed. “I’m
flying
.”

“I love your passion, Kimberly. You put your passion into everything you do. It’s
in the way you paint, the way you decorate your cupcakes, and . . .” He grinned, his
mouth drawing near hers again. “It’s also in the way you kiss.”

She prepared to kiss Nathaniel again, when a sharp ring sounded from her pocket. Her
cell phone.

Nathaniel drew back, and she answered the call, hoping she hadn’t lost track of the
time. Had she been gone from the cupcake stand for more than an hour?

“Grandpa Lewy is missing!” Rachel shouted through the phone. “He was sitting in the
chair behind me, and then he was gone. I left Meredith in charge of the booth, and
Mike and I have been all over the place but can’t find him. Where are you?”

“I’m up in a balloon.”

“A what?”

“A hot air balloon.”

There was a pause on the other end, then Rachel asked, “You’re kidding, right?”

Kim laughed. “No, I’m serious.”

“I’ll need details later,” Rachel said, “but right now I need to find my grandfather.
Can you see him?”

Kim looked about and whispered to Nathaniel, “Rachel’s grandfather is lost. Can we
go up higher so I can try to spot him?”

Nathaniel nodded and took them up to one hundred feet. They peered down at the crowd
below, hoping to spot the old man, but it was hard to tell one person from another.
Then Kim saw a man with white hair holding a box close to his chest. “Rachel, I see
him,” she said into the phone. “He’s over by the Polka Chicks, sitting on a bench,
east of the cupcake stand.”

“I’m on my way. Thanks, Kim.”

Kim put her phone away and turned toward Nathaniel.

“I need to get back,” she told him.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked.

Another date, another kiss, another heartbreak when he left her for Sweden. She shouldn’t
make the inevitable even worse. She shouldn’t say yes.

“Yes?”

She nodded. Common sense told her she should decline, but it looked like her heart
had a different plan.

K
IM RETURNED TO
the Creative Cupcakes booth to find Rachel screaming at Meredith.

“What happened?” Kim asked, eyeing Meredith’s belligerent expression.

Rachel swept her arm toward the back of the tent. “The cupcakes are gone!”

Kim glanced at the empty table where they’d stacked the dozens of cupcake boxes they’d
unloaded from the Cupcake Mobile earlier that morning.

“We were pretty busy. Are you sure we didn’t sell them all?” she asked.

Rachel shook her head. “When I left to find my grandpa, there were still thirty dozen
boxes on the table. Meredith only sold eight dozen during that time. That means twenty-two
dozen cupcakes are missing. How could Meredith not notice someone lifting the flap
and stealing from the back of the tent?”

“I was too busy to notice,” Meredith shot back. “With both you and Kim gone, I was
the only one here to serve. You shouldn’t have left me here alone.”

Kim glanced from one fiery redhead to the other, and guilt crept up her spine. If
she hadn’t been with Nathaniel and had stayed to help Meredith, this never would have
happened. There was no way twenty-two dozen cupcakes would have gone missing under
her
watch.

“Hey, great cupcakes,” a young man said as he walked by. He took a bite of a cannoli
cupcake with a Swedish red candy fish on top. “Tastes fantastic!”

“I didn’t sell him any cupcakes,” Meredith said, her eyes wide. “He could be the thief.”

“Where did you get that box?” Rachel demanded, stepping toward him. “You didn’t pay
us for them.”

“I got them from the troll,” the man said with a grin. “He said everyone had to try
one.”

“Troll?
” Kim demanded. “What troll?”

Rachel pursed her lips. “Maybe a troll followed you from the race.”

“The guy said he was a troll,” the young man replied, giving them both a mischievous
grin.

“Wait!” Kim shouted, running after him. But he had disappeared in the crowd. Then
she realized that several other people around her were eating their cupcakes.

“Excuse me,” she asked an older woman. “Where did you get that cupcake?”

“A handsome man gave it to me,” the woman told her.

Handsome? They had a handsome thief who claimed he was a troll?

“What did he look like?” she persisted.

“He was tall,” the woman answered.

The next woman Kim stopped said, “He was short. He went that way.”

Kim ran down the path in the direction the woman indicated and came across more and
more people eating Creative Cupcakes.

A group of kids laughed when Kim asked about the cupcakes, and one of them said, “The
troll had white hair and a beard and a pointy green hat. He was fierce and ugly and
handed us the cupcakes and ran away.”