She squeezed her eyes closed. Ryan deserved honesty. Tell him now. “You.” She opened her eyes. “It’s always been you. At first, I was afraid you’d hurt me the same way my ex did. But after damn near dying, when I thought I’d never see you again—” her voice caught, and she struggled for composure. “You’re the closest thing to family that I have, and I’ve only known you a short while.”
He grasped her hands. “You need to see yourself through my eyes. I see a strong, capable, smart woman. You don’t have to be a Lolo Hotshot to be your father’s legacy. You already are. And you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, especially your dad. He’s gone. Let him go. You were no more responsible for his death than you were the man in the Copper Peak Fire.”
“And you were no more responsible for the family in California,” she said quietly. “I’d say you’ve evened that score. You saved me twice. In two different states. God, what does that say about me?”
“That you care about others more than yourself.” He seemed to see into her very soul. “You know, both of us need to get over our fucking guilt. We can’t be prisoners of the past. The past teaches us lessons, but it’s not intended as a life sentence. If we allow ourselves to be affected by every death, we’ll have a tough time moving forward.” He let go of her hands and picked up his wine glass.
“I’ll make you a deal. How about we both get professional counseling, then we can be each other’s shrinks?”
Tara locked onto the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean like, together?”
“Why not? We’re both struggling with the same thing, only on a different scale.”
“Okay, deal. Let’s do it soon. Together.”
“I’ll arrange it. Mel knows a good one.” He emptied his glass and set it down.
“Just so you know, I said goodbye to my dad. I have let him go.” She watched Rufous hummingbirds circle a feeder outside the picture window, then looked up at him. “In the helicopter. Did you say you loved me? Or did I dream it?”
“You do remember.” He pulled her into his arms. “You didn’t dream it. When you opened your eyes and said my name, I told you I loved you.”
She drew back to look at him. “In the fire shelter, the thought of never seeing you again was excruciating. But the hope of seeing you again made me fight for every blessed breath. You’re the miracle.” She paused a moment. “I loved you the minute your head plopped onto my shoulder on that bumpy flight to Fairbanks.”
He laughed. “Why didn’t you say so? We could have joined the Mile-High Club.”
She raised a brow. “We still can. It’d be fun to see how two tall people navigate a tiny restroom on a 737.”
“Who needs a rest room?” He dipped his chin toward the bed, his hands resting on her shoulders.
“Ryan…I don’t want what happened to Travis to happen to you.”
“Don’t think like that. It will drive you crazy. What we do is dangerous and we’re both adrenaline junkies. If we move forward together, we’d better be damn good at our jobs, right? No more close calls.”
Tara reached for the bottle of wine and refilled their wine glasses. She brushed her finger over an antlered moose etched on the glass and stepped to the window, watching the hummingbirds. “Move forward together?”
“You’re a born leader. I’d work on a fire with you as the crew boss any day. Stay in Alaska for the rest of fire season. Because after that…”
“After that, what?” She turned to him expectantly, prepared for unwelcome news.
He sipped his wine. “I’m taking you to the American Riviera.”
She watched him empty the bottle into his glass. “Something tells me I should know where that is.”
“You’ll know when you see it.” He raked his eyes up and down her frame, his gaze searing her like blue fire. “Come here.”
“No.”
Her turn for an up and down assessment. Holding her wine glass, she assumed an appraisal stance and pursed her lips. She twirled a forefinger. “First, give us a spin.”
He spread his arms and turned in a slow circle. “Do I measure up to your standards?”
“We’ll see.” She regarded him thoughtfully. It took every ounce of control to keep from launching herself at him.
I love Ryan O’Connor. He’s worth the risk. And I love Aurora Crew, my new family.
There it was. Her simple, undeniable truth. “All right, O’Connor.” She plunked her glass on the table and pulled off her tank top. She hadn’t worn a bra since the fire. Standing there topless, she smiled.
Ryan choked on his wine. “Damn, get to the point, Waters.” He slammed his wine glass on the table so hard, the stem broke—obviously stunned by her sudden release of clothes.
She laughed, tossing her hair back. “Ready to make love to an Alaskan firefighter?” Eyes latching onto his, she moved close and kissed him tenderly. Her love flowed to him like the Chena River.
“Knew you’d see it my way,” he said against her lips. He had her out of the rest of her clothes in record time.
Watching him shed his own clothes made her weak in the knees. Aroused at seeing him naked in broad daylight, she backed up and sat on the edge of the bed. Her back smarted a little and she furrowed her brow. “My burns—I can’t lie on my back.”
“I’m a smokejumper, remember? We’re known for hitting our jump spots without causing injury.” He gently picked her up, taking exceptional care to ease her down onto her side. He positioned himself on his side, facing her.
“The first time we made love, you said you had an Incident Action Plan for dating me. From now on when I attend an IAP fire briefing, I’ll think of you.” She gave him a heavy-lidded look.
His hand slid down her side, dipping
