Page 61 of The Love Dare
“That depends.”
“On what?”
He turns his face into her shoulder, voice low for only her to hear. “On whether or not you plan to keep giving me hard-ons in public all the time?”
Her cheeks flame so hot they must be tomato red. She burrows her face against his broad chest, trying to hide. Naturally, Tyler chooses that exact moment to plop her down.She forgets to be embarrassed the moment he slips the blindfold from her eyes, revealing—well, she doesn’t really know what it reveals, because it sort of looks as if they’ve somehow been transported to Mars. Or the moon. Or, she doesn’t even know what. Black rocks crunch beneath her feet as she shifts her weight, taking in an endless veranda of glistening ice beneath the cloudless blue sky.
“Where are we?”
“Welcome to the Vatnajökull glacier,” an unfamiliar deep voice says—their guide, if the bright orange jacket, bulging backpack, helmet, and ice pick balanced on his shoulder are anything to go by. “I’m Aron.” He extends his hand. She takes it, still trying to understand as her gaze drops to the spiky metal cleats by his feet. “Those are called crampons,” he adds quickly. “Slip them over your boots, and we’ll get suited up for the hike. It’s a beautiful day, and you’re in luck. One of the ice caves is still safe to explore. They’re usually too unstable in the summer, but we think this one still has a week or so left in her. You might be the last visitors of the year.”
Winnie makes eye contact with Tyler while wiggling into her harness. “Admit it. I’m totally turning you on right now.”
He grins. “You’ve never been sexier.”
Aron tightens the belt around her waist, then fiddles with the straps around her thighs. In two quick beats, he cinches one then the other, so deep she jolts. They’re so tight her ass cheeks have ass cheeks. Her pants pull into what she can only imagine is an extremely unflattering full-leg wedgie. Winnie stretches from one side to the other, then kneels, trying to loosen the straps, but they won’t budge. Totally unaware of her predicament, Aron hands her a bright blue helmet with a smile. She straps it on with a frown.
“The producers definitely did this on purpose,” she mutters, still trying to subtly loosen the harness. Screw safety.
“What, Win?” Tyler calls.
She turns, ready to repeat her accusation loud enough for the entire crew to hear. Instead, a barking laugh erupts from her lips. Aron is working his magic on Tyler. Winnie knows where it’s going even before he pulls the second thigh-loop tight, bulging out a lot more than Tyler’s pants in the process. She slaps her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. Tyler furrows his brow, confused. She waggles hers. He still doesn’t get it. So she can’t help it. She drops her gaze, giving in to the urge to stare at a certain attribute very much on display, and says, “Is that an ice pick in your pants or are you happy to see me?”
He finally looks down.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Tyler pulls at the harness, trying to readjust himself, but it’s no use. “Do these things have to be so goddamn tight?”
“Standard procedure,” Aron answers apologetically, though the little smile he’s trying to hide suggests otherwise. Winnie can’t help but notice that none of the harnesses the camera crew are sporting seem to fit quite so snug. She’s not a betting woman, but she’d put money on the fact that the producers set them up for this. Between the harnesses, the headgear, the warm puffy jackets, and the crampons, they look absurd.
But at least they look absurd together.
And honestly, within five minutes, any concerns about how they look are completely wiped away by just how freaking cool this date is. The hike across the glacier is unlike anything Winnie has done in her entire life. She feels like Jon Snow on the wrong side of the Wall. Any moment, a white walker is going to jump out and zombify her. She just knows it. Thank god for these crampons though. The surface is slick. Though the ice is dusted with debris from the surrounding lava rock, it’s not at all soft like snow. It’s solid and slippery, steep and sharp, a mix of giant boulders, plunging cracks, and flowing cliffs. Water creepsbetween crevices in a nonstop melt, forming rivers and pools. They’re warned to keep tight to the designated path, because even a puddle that seems shallow or small might be a hundred feet deep. The reflective nature of the ice makes it difficult to tell.
Tyler holds her hand the entire time, guiding her, helping her, protecting her. They take turns pointing out spots of bright cobalt and vibrant turquoise, little hints of the wonder waiting within. After about twenty minutes, they come to a stop beside a cave-like opening. Crystals bend and break to form a jagged arch. If Winnie thought the top of the glacier was unearthly, nothing could have prepared her for this. Walking inside it is like stepping into a watercolor painting. Every shade of blue imaginable swirls around her, solid ice, yet somehow moving, living, breathing. She presses her fingers to the cold wall, half expecting them to sink into the flow. Instead, it’s smooth and hard, a river frozen in time.
Tyler sidles up behind her, covering her hand with his.
“Worth it?” he whispers.
She spins in his arms. Blue light reflects off his cheeks, making his eyes that much brighter. “So worth it, you have no idea.”
“I have an idea, Win. A really good idea.”
He steps closer, one hand going to her waist, the other to the wall, caging her in. For the first time in her life, she sees the scene in her mind’s eye as though it’s one of her paintings. The slope of his broad shoulders. The corded muscles of his arms. The hooded passion in his gaze. The blond strands falling in sexy disarray across his forehead. The way her chest heaves, caught on an inhale as the anticipation builds beneath her skin. The pout to her lips. The hunger in her eyes, a match to his. In a split second, she can see it all—the way she would sketch it, the colors she would use, the framing and the artistry and the allure—as ifit’s a scene from one of her favorite romance novels and not her real life. Because that’s how Tyler makes her feel.
Like the heroine.
Like the main character.
Like the catch.
Or at least, that’s how shedoesfeel, for a minute there, before their helmets clonk together, knocking her right out of the moment. He shifts one way, and she shifts the other, lips straining to touch, but it’s no use. No matter what angle they try, their helmets bang and clang and crash like some sort of new age chastity belts. Tyler growls under his breath. Winnie can’t help it. She drops her head to his chest and cracks up, her body convulsing as she giggles. His frustration oozes into the air, but she sort of loves it. Because it’s a reminder that this isn’t a storybook fantasy. It’s not perfect. It’s wonderfully real.
Tyler gathers her in his arms, bringing her as close as their outfits allow, squeezing in a big bear hug as he lifts her off her feet. The deep sigh he releases is laced with humor before he mutters, “If the next part of this date doesn’t involve a hot tub, I’m suing.”
An hour later, when they’re still in parkas, Winnie nudges him with her hip and teases, “Better get the lawyers ready.”
They’re standing at the edge of a massive glacial lake, waiting for the crew to finish preparing a boat for departure. There’s a dinner table at the front beneath a canopy of fairy lights—romantic, yes. Warm? Not so much. At least if the stack of blankets set up next to their seats is anything to go by. Winnie doesn’t mind. It’s too beautiful to care about the cold. Massive chunks of ice float across the surface of the water, unlike anything she’s ever seen before. Black sand beaches line the shores, peppered with brilliant blue crystals of every shape and size—pieces of broken-off glacier. Peach tones are just beginning to sweep across the sky as the sun starts its nightly descent. Sealion barks fill the air, but try as she might, she can’t locate where they’re coming from. All the more reason to get out there and explore.
