Page 7 of The Smokejumper's Lady
He stares at me strangely for a second, then his mouth twitches at the corner. “Try not to pass out. Or throw up.”
“Wow. So helpful.” I roll my eyes at him.
“We’re gonna have to get that latch free. From outside.”
My blood runs cold. “Outside? As in, hanging off a helicopter mid-flight?!”
Ryan smirks. “Just the skids. I’ll climb out, you hold the base. I’ve done it before.”
“Of course you have,” I mutter, my eyes growing wide. “Do you also wrestle bears for fun?”
“Only in the off-season,” he says seriously.
A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it. It’s nervous, borderline hysterical, but it breaks the tension.
He grins. A full-blown smile. And damn it, it’s not fair how attractive he looks even while the world is metaphorically—and literally—burning around us.
We lock eyes, and for a moment, the roar of the rotors and the threat of death fade into a strange little bubble. My heart is beating fast. Too fast.
“I’ll need you to spot me,” he says, his expression turning serious.
Still sexy. Damn sexy.
I nod. “Let’s do it.”
We work in tandem. He’s out on the skid in seconds, muscled and sure-footed even with the chopper jolting. I keep one hand on his harness and guide him. It’s dicey, the wind’s rough, but we manage to get the latch free just as the pilot yells, “We’re clear!”
The chopper levels out.
Ryan climbs back in, sweat-soaked and breathing hard. “Not bad, trail guide.”
“You’re welcome, axe guy.”
He laughs—really laughs this time—and I can feel most of the tension leave my body.
“We’re gonna land safe,” Ryan calls to the Reynolds family. “Flat ridge just ahead.”
Mrs. Reynolds lets out a laughing sob. Mr. Reynolds sags against his seat, suddenly looking ten years older. Maddie drops her head on her mom’s shoulder, looking about done with the whole thing.
Me?
I lean back, my heart still pounding hard from adrenaline or nerves…or maybe both.
I try not to stare at Ryan as he settles into the seat across from me, but I’m failing miserably.
I’ve faced bears, storms, and entitled tourists…but nothing has prepared me for Ryan Lewis.
Chapter Four
Ryan
I’ve been in burning buildings, jumped out of aircraft into flame-choked forests, and stood so close to wildfires I could feel my gear melting. But nothing, absolutely nothing, has ever scrambled my brain the way that damn tour guide has.
And I don’t even know her name yet.
The second we touch down and the rotors cut out, I’m hauling gear and trying to reset my head, but it’s not working. My body’s moving on autopilot.
Drop pack, check in, debrief…
