Her eyes darted at Ryan to gauge his reaction.
“Sure. Get us with the plane and Denali in the background.” Ryan motioned for her to stand next to him.
She moved closer but kept some distance, like a shy high schooler posing for prom.
“Come on, look like you’re enjoying this.” Curly fiddled with her camera. “O’Connor, put your arm around her.”
Ryan hesitated. For once, she sensed that he wasn’t calm and relaxed. She decided to help him out, so she slipped an arm around his waist and smiled. “It’s okay, go ahead.” No harm, right?
Once Ryan had the green light, he snaked an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. She inhaled the scent of his coat leather and a warm current zapped her. Here she was, standing on a glacier next to one of the best-looking guys in Alaska, alongside the tallest mountain in North America.
Curly aimed the camera. “Come on, O’Connor, plant one on her. You’re on a frigging glacier for chrissakes. Doesn’t get more romantic than this.”
Tara gave a jittery laugh. What’s the deal with these aviation guys and their romance comments?
“Well, Waters, should I plant one on you?” Ryan’s baby blues searched hers, asking permission.
She drew a short breath. Time stopped. Her heart became a rapid-fire, symphonic bass-drum, thundering her pulse at least up to two-hundred fifty.
“Hello? Tara, you in there? If you don't want to…"
She laughed. An unseen force strong-armed her to nod permission.
Ryan leaned sideways and pressed his lips to her laughing mouth for all of seven seconds. Maybe eight. She tasted mint and her heart imploded.
He lifted away like it was a touch-and-go landing and straightened.
Curly peered at the images. “Nice photos.” He walked to Tara and returned her camera. “You two look good together.”
“Thanks.” Staring straight ahead, she stood frozen, like the glacier, licking her lips and tasting mint. Did that really happen?
“See you after fire season, O’Connor. Nice meeting you, Tara.” Curly’s voice faded as he walked back to his plane to help his clients unload the last of their mountain climbing equipment.
“Thanks, Curly, have a good one,” Ryan hollered after him. He didn’t seem in a rush to let go of her shoulder.
“Good to meet you.” She waved a mechanical goodbye, at a loss for what to do or say now.
They stood still as stones watching Curly’s wheeled skis lift from the glacier. The K2 plane engine drowned out all sound until it rose and banked right. The wing caught the sun’s reflection as the plane gained altitude and grew small in the forever sky. The three climbers had taken off on cross-country skis toward their base camp, a good distance away.
“You know,” said Ryan, dropping his arm from her shoulder. “I can do better.”
She thought he meant taking off from the glacier. “So how do you plan to—”
“Like this.” His arms pulled her close as he swooped in for another landing. He brushed his lips over hers, then lifted off and touched down again to explore her upper lip. He slid his lips to her lower one.
Holy cripes, he sure knew how to kiss! The smell of ice and mountain air and the scent of his leather jacket spun her heart into a fireball, despite her best effort into talking herself out of him. Heat seared through her veins and every cell in her body ignited. Can I melt on a glacier? Why, yes, it seems I can…
He slid his tongue along her lips. She parted them shyly and kissed him back. His tongue slipped into her mouth, slow and easy, giving, and taking; she welcomed it with her own.
A low moan vibrated her throat and she squeezed the leather on his shoulders. She felt his body tense and she sensed him forcing himself to stop.
He gradually broke the kiss and eased his mouth away from hers. “I think that was a game changer.”
She still had hold of him. “Is that what you call it?”
They stared at each other, while Tara’s head swam.
Ryan rocked a little, as if willing himself to let go. He took a few steps backward with the back of his hand to his mouth. “Shouldn't have done that.”
She scrambled for logic. “Well, Curly told you to.”
“Not the second time.” Ryan stared at her as if they’d done something terribly wrong. For such an always-in-control guy, he was clearly rattled.
His being thrown off stride amused her, but she sensed the sudden awkwardness between them. Change the subject. “How do you know Curly?”
“My Talkeetna flight instructor. He taught me glacier landings.” Ryan fiddled with the zipper on his jacket.
“You’re good at glacier landings. And other things.” Heat crept up her face as she secretly gave him an outstanding performance rating on kissing technique. A game changer?
What an understatement.
“I’m sorry. We have to work together. We can’t let that get in the way of—”
“I know. Don’t worry about it.” But she would worry about it, even though she knew the drill. Oh shit. Her no smokejumpers rule had gone up in flames on a glacier. “We got caught up in the moment. Curly thought we were…you know, already hooked up.” She moved her hand in fast circles.
“I broke my rule of not dating trainees.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“But theoretically this wasn't a date. Gunnar was supposed to go.” She gave him a shy grin. “Besides, I didn’t exactly push you away.”
He smiled. “No. You didn’t.”
How do we get back to normal after opening Pandora’s box? She looked him in the eye. “We can pretend it didn’t happen…so we don't mess up our working together.”
“Good idea. Let’s just, let’s just…” He trailed off with a red face and cleared his throat. “We’d better get going. It’s two hours back to Fairbanks.” He seemed flustered.
She let out a nervous laugh. “Sure. What happens on the glacier stays on the glacier…right?” She flashed him a grin.
He chuckled. “Right.”
Tara turned and walked to the Cessna, her boots sinking in sun-softened snow. She
