Page 43 of Every Little Kiss
CHAPTER 9
“I told you to get to know her, not ask her out on a date,” Harris said into the headset, the wind and chopper blades muffling his voice.
“It’s not a date,” Ford shouted back as Bullseye barked into the wind.
Ford was leaning backward off the side of a Super Huey, Bullseye strapped to his side in a doggy Bjorn, with only a helicopter skid and a hundred-foot rope between them and rocky terrain.
Ty was already on the ground below, and because this was a joint training with CalFire, Harris was next to Ford, hooked into his rappelling gear instead of piloting the bird, and Bullseye was harness-on goggles-down, waiting for the go. Today’s exercise was supposed to be fast roping into uneven terrain, but Harris was making it an exercise in patience.
Harris could be a whiner.
“As head of community outreach, this is what I do,” Ford added.
Harris turned his head toward Ford, and even through his aviator glasses he could clearly make out abullshitexpression. “And you’re doing it when her kid is at camp?”
“Tomorrow morning was the only day I’m in the office and she had free.”
“If you don’t stop bitching like a couple of girls and clogging the airways, I might leave you here until Monday,” Ty said, his voice booming through the earpiece.
“As the father of a girl, I resent that, since it’s always the big boys who have a hard time following instruction,” he said, even as he looked at the training coordinator for the all clear but was signaled to hold until the other team cleared the landing zone. “And as a single parent, I can also tell you that if this kid-free coed outing involves a picnic, then don’t be surprised if you show up tomorrow and she’s dressed for romance instead of recon.”
All guys who wore a department-issued uniform and gun had experience with badge bunnies—women who would do anything to marry into the lifestyle. Ford had had his fair share of flings and cons over the years, and he’d learned what to look for.
“Liv isn’t the kind of woman to use her job to get a date,” he said, confident in his assessment.
Harris gazed over the top of his aviators and looked at Ford. “Liv also hasn’t gone on a date in over a decade.” Even though Ford was sitting under a fifty-foot fan, he felt sweat bead on his forehead. “Yeah, so maybe you want to rethink your whole zip-lining outing.”
Ford was tired of rethinking. He’d been doing it for two years without finding any closure. And if helping Liv with Wagon Days got him one step closer, then he was game.
“You suggested I get to know her, and she asked me for help with something that happens to be in my job description, so I said yes,” Ford argued. “As for the zip-line request I put in, she wants to do a mini one for Wagon Days, and I thought using the department’s training course would be a fun way to help her see the different kinds of courses we can build for the kids so she can get a better idea of what would work for the event.”
“That’s it?” Harris asked skeptically.
“That’s it, man,” Ford said. “But if you’d rather I call her and cancel so I can hold your hand while you clear some of those missing-pet cases off your desk, all you need to do is ask.”
The training coordinator gave them the thumbs-up, then held up five fingers, ticking off the seconds before they began their descent.
Harris held up another finger altogether. “About those cases—you’d better focus on holding on to that rope, because if I make it down first, you’re taking those back.”
“And if I make it first?”
Harris looked at Bullseye and laughed. “Whatever you want.”
Ford thought about the stack of applicants he had to call back and grinned. He might be carrying an extra sixty pounds in dog weight, but he also had the fastest rappelling time in his county. “You’re on.” Ford looked down at Bullseye, who was panting with excitement. “It’s go time, buddy.”
The coordinator dropped his last finger, and Ford pushed back off the skid and immediately let five feet of rope slide through his right hand. He was free-falling for a second before the rope tightened, swinging him and Bullseye up underneath the body of the helo.
With a final smile at Harris, Ford released his grip and quickly started descending. The air rushed past, pushing under his shirt and making Bullseye’s tongue flap to the side.
“That better not be drool hitting my face,” he said, but he was smiling because,man, he loved this. The rush, the weightlessness, the sense of freedom while being in complete control.
When Ford was in the moment, adrenaline pumping hard, he felt invincible.
And right then, nothing could touch him. Not the past, not the future, and certainly not Harris, who was a good ten feet above him, probably wondering how the fuck that had happened. Ford knew. Because while being tethered to a dog made the initial push-off more cumbersome, once they were hanging, that additional sixty pounds equated to one hell of a ride down.
And yeah, maybe Ford was easing up on the rope more than usual, but after this week he needed a win. So he didn’t up the pressure until he was ten feet from touchdown. His feet touched solid rock, and he was unhooking Bullseye when Harris finally caught up.
Goggles and earphones off, Bullseye ran in circles, barking up a storm, excited for his reward.
