Ryan closed her door and secured it.
She watched him circle the plane for his pre-flight inspection, hating herself for wanting him to kiss her again. Logic screamed no. Her reckless heart shouted yes! Well, he started it. What was that anyway?
Deep down, she knew. He’d ignited her spark. If it combusts into a roaring inferno, she’d be a goner. Doomed to repeat the past with another smokejumper. Holy hell.
Ryan settled into the pilot seat and fastened his seat belt. “Everything okay?”
She put on her headset and gave him a thumbs up, trying not to look like a lovesick puppy.
He studied his pre-flight checklist and slipped into pilot mode. His voice streamed into her ears. “Ready?” He said it softly, pulling her gaze to him as he smoothly flipped switches.
“All systems go.” She fake-smiled at the windshield as her insides turned to goo.
Ryan throttled the plane up to speed. As the Cessna rose from the glacier, Tara glimpsed Denali flirting with wispy clouds. He banked to follow The Great Gorge out of the park, staying to the right near the east granite wall. The landscape appeared different on the way out, a reversal of scale. He ascended the aircraft, allowing a bird’s-eye view of the braided glacial streams, like sparkling ribbons that splayed through the valley.
Tara peeked at the images on her camera and marveled at their carefree expressions; Ryan’s dimples, amplified by sunlight, his arm resting on her shoulder, as if they’d been together a long time.
He was noticeably quiet on the flight back, and she wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad. She wondered what he was thinking but hesitated to ask.
Leaving the park behind them, Ryan banked left and pointed the Cessna north to Fairbanks. The steady engine hum lulled her into relaxation.
Ryan’s voice streamed into her headphones. “Denali, on your left.” He leaned back, so she could see around him out his side window.
She took in Denali’s alpenglow, a neon cotton candy. The mountain was dazzling, but what caught her eye was the luminescence that backlit Ryan, like a Greek god. Her breath hitched.
She aimed her sunglasses out the window, but her gaze was one hundred per cent on him.
He turned to her and smiled. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
And just like that, he completely disarmed her. Was it elation that burned through her or something else? Something she didn’t want to feel…that she was afraid to feel.
Overcome by a sentiment she was powerless to name, all she could say was, “Yes. Beautiful.”
But she wasn’t referring to Denali.
Mel waited in the van while Tara and Ryan put the Cessna to bed in its hangar. Ryan climbed in front and Tara sat in back. It was the same as her first night in Alaska, except for one minor detail; the guy riding shotgun had become her kryptonite. His kiss had lurched her off balance. She didn’t know what to think or how to feel. He’s my flipping training instructor!
Mel dropped them off and as Ryan followed her to the barracks, there was an awkward, intimate silence between them. When they hit the second floor, they faced each other in the dark hallway.
The tension was palpable. Tara spoke first. “Ryan, I—”
“Let this simmer, okay? We need to finish training. I shouldn’t have done that.” He shook his head.
Her heart plummeted and despite her own suggestion they pretended The Kiss never happened. “I just wanted to thank you for today.” She said it fast, knowing where this was headed.
Nowhere.
“Oh, right. Sorry. Got ahead of myself.” He fiddled with his room key, flipping it between his fingers.
She swore he blushed.
“I appreciate you inviting me to go. I’ll return the favor sometime.” She couldn’t help hoping so.
“You don’t owe me any favors. I enjoyed your company.” He looked down at his feet and slid his gaze to her. “Well…fitness tests in the morning. We better get some rest.”
“Okay. Good night.” She partially turned, then faced him again. “Ryan, today was incredible. And you’re a damn good pilot.” And she meant it.
“Thanks. I appreciate that. Good night, Tara.” His footsteps echoed along the men’s hallway and as she walked to her room, she heard him open the door and close it.
She paused, her hand on the doorknob. He may have kissed me today, but I can’t let him into my heart. Nothing like being on a diet and someone offering you a donut. Or a hot fudge sundae.
Chapter 12
At 5:05 a.m. Ryan sprang out of bed with boundless energy. He went for a run, showered, and ate, all the while thinking about yesterday’s flight. With her. What an enjoyable day. The weather had cooperated, and the plane behaved as he knew it would. Once they had lifted off, Tara seemed more at ease. He liked to think he was the reason.
He had done everything he could to make her feel comfortable. It felt like holding a nut out to a squirrel—no sudden moves or he’d scare her away. While he managed to ignore Reeve’s romantic flight comment, he blew it when Curly suggested kissing her. Not one of his brighter moments. But she seemed to sense his awkwardness afterward when she said, what happens on the glacier stays on the glacier.
Then he went and fucked it up by kissing her a second time. She’s a trainee, for chrissakes. He turned it over a thousand ways from Sunday, but always with the same conclusion.
I want to kiss her again.
What he’d liked about yesterday was getting outside of fire world, and Tara seeing him as someone other than an instructor or a smokejumper. No fire hierarchy on the plane, just the two of them in Alaska’s endless, blue sky.
He would be working with her two more days. After that, it was anyone’s guess if he’d see her again before fire season ended. Tara was a rare jewel and he may not find another gem like her.
He
