Margo pulled her knees up and tried not to close her eyes as the ground got closer. When they landed she tumbled over onto Grifton, not so gracefully. It was a few minutes before she realized they were on the ground. Grifton could feel the heat of her body close to him, so close he was finding it hard to think about anything but the way she smelled, and how much he wanted to kiss her.
“Oh, gawd Grif, I am so sorry. Did I squish you into the grass?” Margo asked as she tried to stand up. Her legs felt like rubber bands.
Grifton laughed. “Squished. That’s not a word I would have used, but squished it is. Squished. Squished. Squished.” he repeated.
Margo lowered her head and looked at him with daring eyes. “Are you making fun of my words Grif?”
“Me? Of course not! Would I do a thing like that to you after you just jumped from a plane?”
“You just did,” she said.
“Are you talking about when you ‘squished’ me Margo?” he teased.
Margo started walking away from him, and it wasn’t until she was a few feet away that Grif realized she had taken his favorite ball cap with her. When she came back around the corner she had it on her head.
“Trade you for breakfast,” she said, “Or would you rather I squish it?”
He raised his eyebrows, and gave her a serious squint. “There will be no ‘squishing’ of the hat.”
“Does that mean you’re taking me to breakfast?” She waved the hat in the air a couple of times, as Grifton was pulling the chute back into the covered area.
“Yeah, it means I’ll take you to breakfast. You know how to drive a hard bargain.”
“Can we go to that place that has really good bacon and hash browns?” She asked.
“Any where you want Margo, just as long as you don’t squish me or my hat.”
“No promises.” she said as she sashayed away.