Chasing Fire
Page 34
“Mostly. Marg and Lynn did what they could with your clothes. Salt’s what gets blood out; that’s what my ma uses.”
“Is that so?”
“Doesn’t work so well on walls, so we got them painted up. It kept us from going stir-crazy while the rest of you were having all the fun. Hell of a mess in there, and smelled like a hog butchering. Made me homesick,” he added with a grin. “Anyhow, that broad must be crazy as a run-over lizard.”
She walked over, bent down, kissed him on the mouth. “Thanks.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “It was a big, stinkin’ hell of a mess.”
This time she drilled her finger into his belly. After walking back to her mat, she stretched out her muscles, soothed her mind with yoga. She’d moved to floor work when Gull came in. Fresh, she thought. He looked fresh and clean, with his gait loose and easy as he crossed to her.
“I heard you’d surfaced.” He crouched down. “You’re looking pretty limber for the morning after.”
“Just need some fine-tuning.”
“And a picnic.”
She lifted her nose from her knee. “I need a picnic?”
“With a big-ass hamper loaded with cuisine by Marg and a fine bottle of adult beverage enjoyed in the company of a charming companion.”
“Janis is going with me on a picnic?”
“I’ve got the big-ass hamper.”
“There’s always a catch.” Danger zone, she warned herself. The man was a walking temptation. “It’s a nice thought, but—”
“We’re not on the jump list, and L.B. cleared us for the day. Now that we’ve been through fire together, I think we can take a short break, have some food and conversation. Unless you’re afraid a little picnic will drive you into uncontrollable lust until you force yourself on me and take advantage of my friendly offer.”
Temptation and challenge—both equally hard to resist. “I’m reasonably sure I can control myself.”
“Okay then. We can leave whenever you’re ready.”
What the hell, she decided. She lived and breathed danger zones. She could certainly handle one appealingly cocky guy on a picnic.
“Give me twenty. And you’d better pick your spot close by because I’m starving.”
“I’ll meet you out front.”
She hunted up Stovic first, gave him the same smack on the lips as Dobie. She paid her debts. She had a report to write and turn in on the fire, but that could wait a couple hours. Check and reorganize her gear, she thought as she pulled on cropped khakis. Deal with her chute, repack her PG bag. She buttoned on a white camp shirt, slapped on some makeup and sunscreen and considered it good enough for a friendly picnic with a fellow jumper.
She shoved on her sunglasses as she walked outside, then narrowed her eyes behind them. Gull leaned on the hood of a snazzy silver convertible chatting it up with Cards.
She sauntered over. “How’s the leg?” she asked Cards.
“Not bad. Knee’s a little puffy yet. I’m going to ice it down again.” He patted the hood beside Gull’s hip. “That’s some ride, Fast Feet. Some hot ride. Today’s word’s got to be virile, ’cause that machine’s got balls. You kids have fun.” He winked at Rowan and, still limping, went back in.
Hands on her hips, Rowan took a stroll around the hot ride. “This is Iron Man’s car.”
“Since I doubt you’re claiming I stole it from your father, I conclude you’re a woman who knows her superheroes and her motor vehicles.”
She stopped in front of him. “Where’s the suit?”
“In an undisclosed location. Villainy is everywhere.”
“Too true.” She angled her head, skimming a finger over the gleaming fender while she studied Gull. “Iron Man’s a rich superhero. That’s why he can afford the car.”
“Tony Stark has many cars.”
“Also true. I’m thinking, smoke jumping pays pretty well, in season. But I can’t see selling tokens and tracking games at an arcade’s something that pays for a car like this.”
“But it’s entertaining, and I get free pizza. It’s my car,” he said when she just kept staring at him. “Do you want to see the registration? My portfolio?”
“That means you have a portfolio, and I’m damned if you built one working an arcade.” Considering, she pursed her lips. “Maybe if you owned a piece of it.”
“You have remarkable deductive powers. You can be Pepper Potts.” He stepped over, opened her door. She slid in, looked up.
“How big a piece?”
“I’ll give you the life story while we eat if you want it.”
She thought it over as he skirted the hood, got behind the wheel. And decided she did.
He drove fast, had a smooth, competent hand on the stick shift—both of which she appreciated.
And God, she did love a slick machine.
“Do I have to sleep with you before you let me drive this machine?”
He spared her a single, mild glance. “Of course.”
“Seems fair.” Enjoying herself, she tipped her face up to the wind and sky, then lifted her hands up to both. “Riding in it’s a pretty decent compromise. How did you manage to get this all set up?”
“Staggering organizational skills. Plus I figured I’d grab a few hours while I had them. The food was the easy part. All I had to do was tell Marg I was taking you on a picnic, and she handled the rest of that section. She’s in love with you.”
“It’s mutual. Still, I’d’ve had a hard time planning anything when I managed to crawl out of bed.”
“I have staggering recuperative powers to go with the organizational skills.”
She tipped down her sunglasses to eye him over them. “I know sex bragging when I hear it.”
“Then I probably shouldn’t add that I woke up feeling like I’d been run over by a sixteen-wheeler after I hauled a two-hundred-pound bag of bricks fifty miles. Through mud.”
“Yeah. And it’s barely June.”
When he turned off on Bass Creek Road, she nodded. “Nice choice.”
“It’s not a bad hike, and it ought to be pretty.”
“It is. I’ve lived here all my life,” she added as he pulled into the parking area at the end of the road. “Hiking the trails was what I did. It kept me in shape, gave me a good sense of the areas I’d jump one day—and gave me an appreciation for why I would.”
“Is that so?”
“Doesn’t work so well on walls, so we got them painted up. It kept us from going stir-crazy while the rest of you were having all the fun. Hell of a mess in there, and smelled like a hog butchering. Made me homesick,” he added with a grin. “Anyhow, that broad must be crazy as a run-over lizard.”
She walked over, bent down, kissed him on the mouth. “Thanks.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “It was a big, stinkin’ hell of a mess.”
This time she drilled her finger into his belly. After walking back to her mat, she stretched out her muscles, soothed her mind with yoga. She’d moved to floor work when Gull came in. Fresh, she thought. He looked fresh and clean, with his gait loose and easy as he crossed to her.
“I heard you’d surfaced.” He crouched down. “You’re looking pretty limber for the morning after.”
“Just need some fine-tuning.”
“And a picnic.”
She lifted her nose from her knee. “I need a picnic?”
“With a big-ass hamper loaded with cuisine by Marg and a fine bottle of adult beverage enjoyed in the company of a charming companion.”
“Janis is going with me on a picnic?”
“I’ve got the big-ass hamper.”
“There’s always a catch.” Danger zone, she warned herself. The man was a walking temptation. “It’s a nice thought, but—”
“We’re not on the jump list, and L.B. cleared us for the day. Now that we’ve been through fire together, I think we can take a short break, have some food and conversation. Unless you’re afraid a little picnic will drive you into uncontrollable lust until you force yourself on me and take advantage of my friendly offer.”
Temptation and challenge—both equally hard to resist. “I’m reasonably sure I can control myself.”
“Okay then. We can leave whenever you’re ready.”
What the hell, she decided. She lived and breathed danger zones. She could certainly handle one appealingly cocky guy on a picnic.
“Give me twenty. And you’d better pick your spot close by because I’m starving.”
“I’ll meet you out front.”
She hunted up Stovic first, gave him the same smack on the lips as Dobie. She paid her debts. She had a report to write and turn in on the fire, but that could wait a couple hours. Check and reorganize her gear, she thought as she pulled on cropped khakis. Deal with her chute, repack her PG bag. She buttoned on a white camp shirt, slapped on some makeup and sunscreen and considered it good enough for a friendly picnic with a fellow jumper.
She shoved on her sunglasses as she walked outside, then narrowed her eyes behind them. Gull leaned on the hood of a snazzy silver convertible chatting it up with Cards.
She sauntered over. “How’s the leg?” she asked Cards.
“Not bad. Knee’s a little puffy yet. I’m going to ice it down again.” He patted the hood beside Gull’s hip. “That’s some ride, Fast Feet. Some hot ride. Today’s word’s got to be virile, ’cause that machine’s got balls. You kids have fun.” He winked at Rowan and, still limping, went back in.
Hands on her hips, Rowan took a stroll around the hot ride. “This is Iron Man’s car.”
“Since I doubt you’re claiming I stole it from your father, I conclude you’re a woman who knows her superheroes and her motor vehicles.”
She stopped in front of him. “Where’s the suit?”
“In an undisclosed location. Villainy is everywhere.”
“Too true.” She angled her head, skimming a finger over the gleaming fender while she studied Gull. “Iron Man’s a rich superhero. That’s why he can afford the car.”
“Tony Stark has many cars.”
“Also true. I’m thinking, smoke jumping pays pretty well, in season. But I can’t see selling tokens and tracking games at an arcade’s something that pays for a car like this.”
“But it’s entertaining, and I get free pizza. It’s my car,” he said when she just kept staring at him. “Do you want to see the registration? My portfolio?”
“That means you have a portfolio, and I’m damned if you built one working an arcade.” Considering, she pursed her lips. “Maybe if you owned a piece of it.”
“You have remarkable deductive powers. You can be Pepper Potts.” He stepped over, opened her door. She slid in, looked up.
“How big a piece?”
“I’ll give you the life story while we eat if you want it.”
She thought it over as he skirted the hood, got behind the wheel. And decided she did.
He drove fast, had a smooth, competent hand on the stick shift—both of which she appreciated.
And God, she did love a slick machine.
“Do I have to sleep with you before you let me drive this machine?”
He spared her a single, mild glance. “Of course.”
“Seems fair.” Enjoying herself, she tipped her face up to the wind and sky, then lifted her hands up to both. “Riding in it’s a pretty decent compromise. How did you manage to get this all set up?”
“Staggering organizational skills. Plus I figured I’d grab a few hours while I had them. The food was the easy part. All I had to do was tell Marg I was taking you on a picnic, and she handled the rest of that section. She’s in love with you.”
“It’s mutual. Still, I’d’ve had a hard time planning anything when I managed to crawl out of bed.”
“I have staggering recuperative powers to go with the organizational skills.”
She tipped down her sunglasses to eye him over them. “I know sex bragging when I hear it.”
“Then I probably shouldn’t add that I woke up feeling like I’d been run over by a sixteen-wheeler after I hauled a two-hundred-pound bag of bricks fifty miles. Through mud.”
“Yeah. And it’s barely June.”
When he turned off on Bass Creek Road, she nodded. “Nice choice.”
“It’s not a bad hike, and it ought to be pretty.”
“It is. I’ve lived here all my life,” she added as he pulled into the parking area at the end of the road. “Hiking the trails was what I did. It kept me in shape, gave me a good sense of the areas I’d jump one day—and gave me an appreciation for why I would.”
