window, or what?”
“Step back, little lady,” he said, and sauntered up to the window. What a goof, she thought. What a saunter.
And those back muscles. Good grief, they danced as he tried to pull the window up. Then they strained and his neck started turning red.
“Must be locked.” He shaded his eyes and peered into her office.
“Lock’s broken.” She shrugged when he looked back at her. “It’s on my list of things to fix.”
“I can take a look at it.”
“I don’t want to bother you.”
“It’s no bother. It’s a lot less bother than being stuck on a roof.”
“Sorry. In my defense, it wasn’t my idea for you to climb up here with me.”
Jake moved to the edge of the roof and peered down, hands on his hips. Grace took a tentative step toward him, and the edge.
“Well, we’re going to have to climb down,” said Jake with a decisive nod.
“But—” Grace tried to think of a good reason why she couldn’t climb. She had weak wrists. She had vertigo. She didn’t want to die falling from a ten-foot roof. “I can’t.”
“Sure you can.” He gave her a confident smile. “You won’t fall. I’ll make sure.”
Damn that smile. That smile made her believe that she could make it off the roof alive. That she could rappel down a mountain if she wanted to. That smile made her consider hang-gliding.
“Okay, I’m going to go first,” Jake said, tucking his killer smile away and getting down on his haunches. “Watch what I do. You just have to put your hands and feet where I do, and then I’ll be at the bottom to catch you.”
Grace kneeled by the side of the roof as Jake slowly lowered himself down. “ Catch implies that I will be falling.”
“Grace,” he grunted. “Don’t argue semantics when I’m climbing off a roof.”
She watched him climb down. She watched his hands as they gripped the cornice, then leaned further to see his feet touch the top rail of the porch. He shifted his hands for a more secure grip, then gently swung his legs out behind him. She held her breath as his hands disconnected, and then he was crouching on the grass, smiling up at her.
“See? No problem,” he said, wiping sweat off his forehead.
“No problem!” she called out, hoping she sounded more enthusiastic than manic. But she was not confident of that.
“Lie down flat,” he instructed, and she did. He’d gotten down alive; he was obviously an expert.
“Okay,” she called from her flat position on the roof.
“Now swing your legs over, nice and slow.”
Was he crazy? If she swung her legs over, she would be half off the roof and then she would die.
“Grace?”
“Legs over,” she muttered to herself, and swung one leg down. She felt Jake’s hand above her knee.
“Great, now one more,” he said.
“One more,” and she slowly inched her foot off the roof until there was no more roof, and then there was just air and her one leg flying toward her other one with far more momentum than she could control, and she started to slide.
“Whoa! Okay, slow down, I got you,” said Jake, and he did. She was hanging on to the edge of the roof with her fingers with a grip she could not sustain, but she felt his arms strong around her legs, his face pressed into her stomach.
“Grace—” His voice was muffled by her shirt. “One hand at a time, let go.”
“I can’t,” she said.
“Sweetheart, I can’t hold you like this for much longer.”
“Are you calling me fat?” Perfect time for jokes, Grace!
“No, Grace, I’m calling you gravity. Come on, one hand. Just move it from the roof to my shoulder.”
So she did it. She let go with her right hand, but she couldn’t reach his shoulder, not while still holding on to the roof. So she grabbed on to his hair. He yelped, she apologized, but she still held on to the roof with her left hand.
“Grace.” His voice sounded both muffled and strained now. “Other hand.”
Even though she knew if she let go of the roof she would bend
“Step back, little lady,” he said, and sauntered up to the window. What a goof, she thought. What a saunter.
And those back muscles. Good grief, they danced as he tried to pull the window up. Then they strained and his neck started turning red.
“Must be locked.” He shaded his eyes and peered into her office.
“Lock’s broken.” She shrugged when he looked back at her. “It’s on my list of things to fix.”
“I can take a look at it.”
“I don’t want to bother you.”
“It’s no bother. It’s a lot less bother than being stuck on a roof.”
“Sorry. In my defense, it wasn’t my idea for you to climb up here with me.”
Jake moved to the edge of the roof and peered down, hands on his hips. Grace took a tentative step toward him, and the edge.
“Well, we’re going to have to climb down,” said Jake with a decisive nod.
“But—” Grace tried to think of a good reason why she couldn’t climb. She had weak wrists. She had vertigo. She didn’t want to die falling from a ten-foot roof. “I can’t.”
“Sure you can.” He gave her a confident smile. “You won’t fall. I’ll make sure.”
Damn that smile. That smile made her believe that she could make it off the roof alive. That she could rappel down a mountain if she wanted to. That smile made her consider hang-gliding.
“Okay, I’m going to go first,” Jake said, tucking his killer smile away and getting down on his haunches. “Watch what I do. You just have to put your hands and feet where I do, and then I’ll be at the bottom to catch you.”
Grace kneeled by the side of the roof as Jake slowly lowered himself down. “ Catch implies that I will be falling.”
“Grace,” he grunted. “Don’t argue semantics when I’m climbing off a roof.”
She watched him climb down. She watched his hands as they gripped the cornice, then leaned further to see his feet touch the top rail of the porch. He shifted his hands for a more secure grip, then gently swung his legs out behind him. She held her breath as his hands disconnected, and then he was crouching on the grass, smiling up at her.
“See? No problem,” he said, wiping sweat off his forehead.
“No problem!” she called out, hoping she sounded more enthusiastic than manic. But she was not confident of that.
“Lie down flat,” he instructed, and she did. He’d gotten down alive; he was obviously an expert.
“Okay,” she called from her flat position on the roof.
“Now swing your legs over, nice and slow.”
Was he crazy? If she swung her legs over, she would be half off the roof and then she would die.
“Grace?”
“Legs over,” she muttered to herself, and swung one leg down. She felt Jake’s hand above her knee.
“Great, now one more,” he said.
“One more,” and she slowly inched her foot off the roof until there was no more roof, and then there was just air and her one leg flying toward her other one with far more momentum than she could control, and she started to slide.
“Whoa! Okay, slow down, I got you,” said Jake, and he did. She was hanging on to the edge of the roof with her fingers with a grip she could not sustain, but she felt his arms strong around her legs, his face pressed into her stomach.
“Grace—” His voice was muffled by her shirt. “One hand at a time, let go.”
“I can’t,” she said.
“Sweetheart, I can’t hold you like this for much longer.”
“Are you calling me fat?” Perfect time for jokes, Grace!
“No, Grace, I’m calling you gravity. Come on, one hand. Just move it from the roof to my shoulder.”
So she did it. She let go with her right hand, but she couldn’t reach his shoulder, not while still holding on to the roof. So she grabbed on to his hair. He yelped, she apologized, but she still held on to the roof with her left hand.
“Grace.” His voice sounded both muffled and strained now. “Other hand.”
Even though she knew if she let go of the roof she would bend
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