Déjà Date by Susan Hatler Page A

the beam, watching my pup sniffing at a rock in the sand. Then I eased onto the other swing, gripping a chain with each hand. “Why were you at my mom’s house, anyway?”
    “You mentioned that your dad wanted his ashes sprinkled over the Sierras from a hot air balloon. Well, I found a friend of a friend who’s willing to take me up and look the other way while I carry out your dad’s wishes. Your mom and I decided this Sunday would work best.”
    Of course Nate would know someone rebellious who was willing to break the rules. I sighed. Then a cold chill rolled through me as I realized what that meant. My throat tightened. “Today’s Wednesday. So that means in a few days the last remains of my dad will be gone.”
    He reached over, and caressed my cheek. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must be. I hope you don’t mind that I offered to help. I really liked your dad, and felt bad that your mom was having trouble carrying out his final wish.”
    My eyes burned. “He had a lot of last wishes,” I said quietly. Then I shook my head, thinking about his Carpe Diem list—especially task number four. I glanced over at Nate who was watching me intently, and I sucked in a breath. “In my dad’s letter, he said I had to fix my biggest regret . . .”
    “I remember.” He lifted my hand from where I’d gripped the chain, then laced his fingers through mine, stroking the groove between my thumb and index finger. His jade-green eyes darkened with emotion. “Anything I can do to help?”
    “Thanks for offering, but there’s nothing anyone can do to help.” A bitter laugh escaped. Then my gaze blurred and a boulder formed in my throat. “My biggest regret is that I never went up in a hot air balloon with my dad. It’s what he loved doing most in the world. He was even thinking about starting a tour business. Did you know that?”
    The corners of his mouth turned downward and he shook his head.
    “He absolutely loved being up there.” I glanced up at the baby-blue sky, fighting to hold my tears in. “He kept inviting me to join him, but I’m scared of heights. So I always turned him down. The night before the accident, he’d asked me to go up with him the next day and I’d wanted to say yes. But I didn’t.”
    A horrified expression crossed Nate’s handsome features, and his hand tightened around mine. “I’m glad you didn’t go that day.”
    I stared off in the distance, knowing it was no use begging my mom for the inheritance until I’d at least lined up all four tasks. “My biggest regret is that I didn’t go up in the hot air balloon ride with him, and that’s something I can’t fix now that he’s gone. I’ll never be able to complete his Carpe Diem list.”
    “That’s not exactly true.” He stared at me intently, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “You have one last chance on Sunday when I take your dad up for his final ride.”
    Chills vibrated through me, along with a tingle of hope. “But he’s dead. . . And those are only his ashes. He won’t know I’m up there with him.”
    “Maybe he will and maybe he won’t. But you’ll know. Won’t you?”
    I bit my lip, wondering if there was any possibility my dad would be aware I went up with him—that I’d finally been brave. “Um, when I said that I’m scared of heights that was kind of an understatement. Petrified is probably a more accurate word.”
    Slipping off his seat, he came around in front of my swing. “You can do it, princess.”
    Tingles flittered across my chest at the nickname my dad had always called me.
    “I’ll be with you the entire time.” His tone made it sound like a stroll in the park instead of my greatest fear realized. Then he proceeded to grip both edges of my seat, his hands brushing against my hips.
    Ignoring the flitters in my belly, I raised my brow. “You’ll stay with me even if I’m hyperventilating and clawing into you with my nails?”
    “Even then.” He pushed me up high