All It Takes (Romancing Manhattan 2)

“It’ll be fun. Fresh air is exactly what we need after spending all this time around dusty papers.”

“I’m afraid of heights,” I admit and bite my lip, already dreading this. “Seriously, you can zip-line, and I’ll cheer you on and then we can go see the tigers.”

“You zip-line and then I’ll take you to see the tigers.”

We approach the gate and he pays for two passes, for both the zoo and the zip lining, and I follow him inside.

“Quinn—”

He pulls me into his arms now, holding me in a tight hug, his hands rubbing up and down my back. “Sienna, you’re the fiercest woman I know. You can do this.”

“I know, I just don’t want to.” I take a deep breath, snuggling against him, and then let it out slowly. I’m pouting, and I know it. I’ve never faced so many fears in my life like I have in just the short time I’ve known Quinn.

It’s actually kind of badass. He’s right, I can do it. And if it makes him happy in the process, what’s the harm?

He chuckles and kisses my forehead. “Let’s go check it out. If it still freaks you out, we’ll go see the tigers.”

“I don’t understand what’s so exciting about being three hundred feet in the air.” My voice isn’t pouty now, but more curious.

“I wish this were that high up,” he says with a sigh. “Unfortunately, we’re restricted by the city, and this one is only about forty feet off the ground.”

“Only. I could still fall to my death.”

“You won’t,” he says with the confidence that only Quinn has. “Not to mention, this is a side-by-side line, so we can go at the same time.”

“Is that supposed to be encouraging?”

He grins and winks. “Yep.”

Just then, two people sail over us, laughing and whooping.

“See? They’re having fun.”

“They looked sixteen.”

“This is a sport for all ages,” he assures me.

“I warned you that I’m not a thrill seeker.”

He frowns, and I feel a bit guilty. He’s trying to include me in things that he likes to do for fun, and given that the man is a workaholic who doesn’t get out of the office much, he’s not only taking time off, he’s including me.

And that says a lot.

“But I’m going to try it.”

His face transforms back into a smile.

“Thank you.”

I take a deep breath when we approach the guys in their gear, and the next thirty minutes is full of fittings and instructions.

“Here’s your helmet,” Quinn says, passing it to me. I try to put it on my head, but my bun is in the way. “You’ll have to take your hair down.”

I wrinkle my nose, but do as he says and tuck my hair tie in my pocket. The helmet slips on easily, fastening under my chin.

“You look cute in this outfit.”

“Oh good, because that’s what I was going for.”

Quinn laughs and takes out his phone, snapping a selfie of the two of us, and then we’re on a platform, looking down forty feet to the ground.

“It’s really high.”

“I’ve zip-lined five hundred feet in the air before,” Quinn says, shaking his head. “This is an easy one.”

“Goodie,” I mutter under my breath. I’m going to die. This is how it happens.

“Hey.” I glance over at Quinn, who’s smiling at me, and holding his hand out for mine, which I take. “I’m going to be right next to you the whole way. Don’t close your eyes because you’ll miss it.”

“Yes, sir.”

And the next thing I know, we’re sailing through the air, held up with only some cables and sheer will, and it’s . . . exhilarating.

Fun, even.

“Holy shit!” I call out. Our arms are stretched out as we sail, both of us laughing and looking at the zoo, the trees around us. It’s magnificent.

And something I never would have done without Quinn.

We go on three more runs, and then the gear is taken off me, the helmet unfastened, and I immediately twist my hair back up.

“You should wear it down,” Quinn says casually. “I like your hair.”

“It gets in my way,” I say and take his offered hand. “Are we going to see the tigers now?”

“A promise is a promise.”

“That’s right. Also, I want a churro and a Coke.”

“Now you’re asking a lot.”

“Hey, I conquered my fear of heights for you.”

“A churro and a Coke it is.”

“Is it Wednesday already?” I check the calendar on my desk when Uncle Patrick walks into my tiny office and sits in the chair next to my desk. I came to the office today for research and for a change of scenery. “Time is flying by.”

“Wednesday at noon,” he confirms with a wink. He looks so much like Grandpa, the way I remember him from when I was small. “But instead of going out today, I brought lunch to you.”

He sets a brown bag on my desk, and we dig into sandwiches and pickles.