Slow Burn (Smoke Jumpers)
“Hell, kissing was not what a jump instructor did. It was unprofessional. It sent the wrong message to anyone watching. But nothing so wrong had ever felt so good or so right. He’d kissed her once and then twice, and all he could think was that the third time would be the charm.
Rio had brought her camera to the landing site, and she’d gleefully snatched it from him, snapping shots of the boys coming down around them. This was a job for her. He was merely the means to her end, and that was okay, too, because he needed something from her, and it wasn’t sex, no matter how much his unruly erection wanted things to be otherwise.
Instead, he evaluated the rest of the team on their practice run. Most of the day’s jumpers hit the meadow free and clear, but Joey had almost hung up on a stand of ponderosa on the far side of the clearing. The wind had shifted suddenly on him, and there hadn’t been much the guy could do but steer hard and curse louder. He’d missed the trees but hit the pond.
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