Page 12 of The Smokejumper's Lady
The medic glances between us. “Right. Well, if there’s no injuries you need me to check out…” She turns to Clea. “You’ve inhaled a lot of smoke. Are you having any trouble breathing?”
Clea assures the medic that she feels fine and after a quick vitals check, the medic says, “You both are good to go. Make sure toget checked out further if you develop any new symptoms.” She gives us a curt nod and leaves.
When the door shuts again, Clea slumps back, covering her face with both hands. “We are never talking about this.”
“Like hell we’re not,” I say, grinning like an idiot. “You owe me a second date. In a room with doors we can lock.”
She peeks at me through her fingers. “This was not a date.”
“Felt like one.”
Her cheeks flush red again.
And I’m already planning how to get her alone next.
Chapter Five
Clea
Oh my God.
What’s happening?
I’m smiling bravely on the outside, but I’m freaking out in my head.
Because I’m pretty sure I just let a complete stranger—a literal smoke jumper—finger-fuck me in a medical room. At a wildfire evac site.
And I didn’t stop him.
Worse? I already miss the way his mouth felt on mine, the way he looked at me like I was something precious and breakable, even while his fingers absolutely destroyed me. My thighs are still trembling, and my head’s floating somewhere far, far away from this dusty makeshift clinic.
I don’t even hear the door open again.
“Hey,” says a new male voice, deep and teasing. “Sorry to crash the afterglow. You decent?”
I jerk upright. My gaze snaps toward the newcomer—another smoke jumper. He’s got the same ash-stained gear Ryan had onearlier, the same confident stance. Messy blond hair, square jaw, cocky grin.
Definitely trouble.
Unlike Ryan’s brooding thunderstorm energy, this guy’s got sunshine-and-beer vibes. He’s handsome, for sure, and judging by the way Ryan instantly groans and mutters, “Matt, timing,” I’m guessing this must be one of his teammates.
Matt raises his brows at me. “You must be the reason this guy’s been all hot and bothered since we landed.”
I blink. “Uh—”
Ryan cuts in smoothly. “Clea, this is Matt. Matt, this is Clea.”
“Pleasure,” Matt says, shooting me a wink. “Literally, from the look of it.”
I’m going to die. Just keel over and die right here on this gurney.
Ryan must sense that my pleased embarrassment is tilting toward actual discomfort, because he pushes off the counter and glares at Matt. “Shut up. What’s the status?”
Matt shrugs. “Bird’s grounded till morning. Winds are acting up and the fire’s mostly contained, but the perimeter’s still hot. They want us to stay put.”
I try to focus on the words.Mostly contained. Grounded. Stay put.My brain is still lodged somewhere around the part where Ryan almost made me come with his fingers in a public medical room.
Ryan turns to me. “We’ll have to wait it out near camp. There’s a ranger cabin or two nearby we can crash in until they send the next ride out. Not far from here.”
