Tara’s hackles raised along with her voice. “Why are you grilling me on this?”
“Why did you do it if your instinct told you not to—”
She cut him off. “Because he threatened to have us fired!”
He shot her a look. “He wasn’t your direct supervisor. Didn’t it occur to you that the three of you were singled out? You’ve taken the harassment training, same as I have.”
“You blamed me for the log incident with Hudson, when he was the one who got in my way. I know he’s the one who over-weighted Angela’s pack. He was the harasser, but you singled me out for it.”
“You’re the one who said when people ignore harassment and gender discrimination it spreads. Yet you didn’t call out Colonel Sanders. What the fuck, Tara?”
“Silva filed a complaint against the guy. I was a little out of it at the time,” she shot at him, pushing her temper back. Their discord knotted her heart into an aching glob.
“When he ordered only the women to put on the suits in damn near a hundred degrees, the three of you should have pushed back and told him why.” He lifted a hand off the wheel to make his point and gripped it again.
“I did after I became so flipping hot—told him to stuff it, then I lost my balance and blacked out. It’s hard to file a complaint when you’re flat on a road in an oversized bear head.”
He chuckled. “Sorry, but that visual is funny.” His brow furrowed and he grunted. “Good old Silva to the rescue.”
“What is it with you two? You’re jealous of him, aren’t you? He’s the main reason you took me to the Howling Dog.”
“I don’t want him hitting on you anymore. He's your crew boss, for chrissakes. He knows better than that.”
“You hit on me when you were my training instructor. What’s the difference?”
Ryan clammed up and focused on driving. They rode in mutual silence until he pulled into the barracks parking lot and turned off the engine.
She fixated on blinking runway lights in the distance. “He’s not my type.”
“Who is your type?”
She chose no response, only turned toward the side window and stared into the twilight.
Ryan stared out the windshield. “When you’re on a fire and she runs at you, you know your escape routes. But what would you do if given an order that endangered your safety?”
“What do you mean?” She rested her head back.
“Weigh decisions and keep safety a priority. I drummed this into all of you during training. All I’m saying is, don’t risk your life or the lives of your crew because someone tells you to. It’s okay to question decisions if you have good reason. I want you safe.”
She snapped her gaze to his. “Okay, I get it. Thank you for the advice.” His restless and edgy demeanor threw her.
“I’m sorry I screwed up tonight.” He sounded sincere, but she didn’t know whether to believe him. She didn’t know what to believe.
“Ryan, I don't think it’ll work with us. I'm not ready for another involvement.” She tried hard to believe it but knew she was on shaky ground. She opened the door and got out.
“Thanks for dinner. Thanks for everything.” She slammed the door and hurried inside the barracks before she would burst into tears.
Ryan caught up to her as she reached the second floor. “Tara.”
In the dark hallway, she turned to face him, walking backward. “There’s nothing more to say. Good night.” Heart speeding, she turned her back to him.
Take the hint and go to your room.
He didn’t.
She hated herself for hoping he wouldn’t.
She stopped at her door and rested her forehead against it. Ryan came up behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders. She turned to face him and eased his hands from her shoulders. She inhaled his scent, torturing herself with what she couldn’t have. Fear poked needles in her chest at the thought of taking another gamble with her heart.
“I told you. I can’t do this.” She twisted from him to fumble her key in the lock. Hands shaking, she turned the handle and pushed the door open. She was holding it together as best she could—but she felt fragile and exposed.
“I don't believe you.”
Tara entered the empty room and turned to face him, her eyes brimming with tears. “Listen, O’Connor. I don’t like a player. I won't share you or compete for your attention. Been there, done that. Not doing it ever again.”
“I’m not a player. I won’t cheat on you.” He stood framed in the doorway, diminishing it. “What will it take to convince you?”
“I won’t be hurt again, dammit!" She pushed the door closed so he wouldn’t see her spilled tears.
Ryan caught it and stepped in. He closed the door behind him. “Say the word and I’ll go.” He reached behind, his hand on the doorknob. “Say it.”
Her gaze slid away from his. “If I tell you to stay…” Her voice shook.
She was coming undone. She backed into her nightstand and things clattered to the floor. She didn’t care. Shaking her head, a tear rolled down her cheek.
“Say it, Tara.”
She couldn’t.
Her thoughts flashed back to the river…when he kissed her on the glacier…his head on her shoulder on the flight to Fairbanks. Hell, she’d fallen for him the second she’d locked onto his magnetic blues in the Montana fire. The undeniable truth rankled her.
If he stays, this will be my point of no return.
Her breathing grew ragged as her mother's words from long ago sounded in her head. Be resilient with love and you’ll have no regrets.
“Give me another chance. Jump this fire with me?” His voice was husky and seductive.
Her heart beat fast, knowing what he was asking. “Only if you promise me a safe landing.”
“I promise.” He said it sure and easy, as if taking an oath.
She had made split second decisions before, some good, some bad. He’d laid his cards on the table. It was her call whether to fold or keep playing.
Every reason to
