“What were plans B and C?” They would have talked about possible escape routes before leaving Grand. The two smokejumpers who made it to the ground would have reassessed them after they saw the terrain, too.
“Plan B was to set a controlled burn and clear as large a patch of ground as they could, then crawl into their fire shelters and prepare for a burn-over.” Her lower lip trembled into a half smile. “Plan C was the usual. Run like hell.”
And in a blowup, the amount of decision-making time available to go from plan A to C was seconds, not minutes. That much, he knew. He understood why she was worried. Larry was young and likely never had to make lifesaving decisions with that speed before. Plus, there was an element of arrogance involved that she’d have to consider. Either one, or both, of those men might have opted to come up with a new plan of their own, which would then cut into those few seconds of reaction time.
“You’re on sick leave. You should go home,” Jazz said, eyeing the way he was propped on his crutches with concern. “I can call you with an update when I learn more.”
He was one more worry she didn’t need, but no way was he leaving her. “I’m healing just fine and I’m tired of sitting at home. I’ll wait right here with everyone else.”
Just after eleven o’clock, they got word that the two smokejumpers had been found. Both had suffered burns to their hands and faces, and one was banged up from a fall, but they were alive. They’d opted for plan C—they’d dropped their gear and ran like hell, but downhill, as per plan A, through the narrower leading edge of the fire. Then, once they’d reached ground that was already burned, they hunkered down and waited for rescue.
Firefighters were crazy. Dan said as much.
They all laughed at him. “They would have seen the leading edge of the fire from above, before the blowup began, as they parachuted in. That’s when they double-check their escape route and why there’s an operations plan, so they don’t have to waste valuable time making last-minute decisions. Good job on that plan, by the way,” Brody congratulated Jazz. “Given the conditions, who’d have thought things would blow up like that?”
Jazz, that was who. Pride for her swelled in Dan’s chest.
He ordered pizza for everyone since no one had stopped long enough to eat, and now that the danger was past, they were all hungry.
Jazz went to her office to make that overdue call to Larry’s parents. Dan sat on the edge of her desk and listened in. It still wasn’t easy, but it was far better than it might have been.
The color had returned to her face by the time the call ended, but he could tell she was wired. His crutches were propped against the wall. She’d turned on a single lamp above her workspace so the light in the office was low.
“Come here,” he said once she hung up the phone.
She stepped into the space between his thighs, careful not to bump his injured leg, and into his arms. She rested her forearms on his shoulders, clasping her hands behind his neck, and rested her forehead on his. They were alone, although not entirely. Men called to each other as they moved around in other areas of the hangar, keeping themselves busy while they waited for their pizza to arrive.
“I don’t think I can do this,” she said quietly.
“We could lock the door. You’ll have to try not to scream my name too loud, though. Everyone would know for sure what we’re up to then,” he said.
Her lips lifted a little. “I don’t mean sex. What’s wrong with you?”
“I know what you meant.” But he’d made her smile, so mission accomplished. He shifted to serious, matching her mood. “Waiting is hard. Not knowing is hard. You’d rather be in the thick of the action. I get it.” Whereas he’d far rather be waiting for news on anyone other than on her, although he didn’t dare come right out and say it. He’d never asked her how many times she’d been in danger, and he wasn’t going to ask, either. He didn’t want to know. “You’re an excellent base manager, Jazz. You drew on your own experience and training and you didn’t make a single mistake. Those guys are alive because they knew what to do when things blew up on them. And because they’re crazy.”
He had to be crazy too, because if he kept encouraging her this way, she’d take the McCall position for sure.
She pressed her lips to his in a soft, gentle kiss. “Thank you.” Her hands went to his face and she kissed him again, deeper, and with a distinct edge of need now.
He skimmed his palms over her hips. While he wasn’t averse to having sex in her office, there were too many people around and no lock on the door. They both had careers to think of.
“Want to head back to my place?” he suggested. “Just to get away from here and unwind. It’ll be hours before you’ll be able to fall asleep. What do you usually do to relax?”
“I usually take my bike out for a ride.”
If that was what she needed, then fair enough. Everyone handled stress in their own way. “Why don’t I ride with you?”
“You can’t ride on the back of a bike with that leg wound.”
“We won’t know that for a fact until I try, will we?” He cupped her round buttocks. God, they were firm. “It’s not as if I’m intentionally going to endanger my parenting potential, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Your mother’s future grandchildren are safe with me.”
“Men and their boys…” She rolled her eyes at him. “I thought you were afraid of motorcycles.”
He wasn’t fond of them, no. But afraid? “Where did you get an idea like that?”
“You’re always complaining about them.”
“Because I worry about you. I’m not worried about me. I rode dirt bikes when I was a kid. I’m fine.”