Page 137 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

“What about the rest of town?” Janna asked.

Chief grimaced. “Looks like twelve structures lost. We haven’t been able to get a good look at the outskirts.”

Janna sighed. “It moved so fast.”

“You did good,” Chief told her. “I want to personally thank you for your smart thinking. Pickle will be released from the hospital tomorrow. He wanted me to tell you thank you. You saved his life.”

She smiled. “I was just doing my job.”

Chief shook his head. “No. You did more than your job. The both of you. I have to get back to command, but I just wanted to congratulate you on a job well done. I’m proud to have you on my team. Take a few days. I’ll understand if you’ve had enough of this job. You went through something most of us will never deal with. If you’d rather move on or maybe work in an⁠—”

“Hell no,” Janna cut him off. “I’m a pilot. This is the job I want. I stared that bitch in the face and I didn’t blink. Fire isn’t going to scare me away.”

Chief grinned. Pride was all over his face. “Alright then. You two look like shit. Get the hell out of here. We’ll debrief tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Chief,” I said.

“Thank you,” Janna added.

The adrenaline was gone, leaving nothing but bone-deep weariness in its place. I was so ready to get out of there.

“My place?” I asked her.

“Please,” she said.

I reached for her and lifted her once again.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re going to my truck,” I said.

I was already moving, nodding at the few people in the med tent. They were all smiling. I knew we’d be the talk of the town for a while. And because the firefighting community was pretty small, the stories about what happened today were going to spread far and wide.

And I also knew everyone was going to be talking about Herc getting taken to his knees by a little spitfire.

I didn’t care.

“I can walk,” Janna said.

“Nope.”

“You’re not in much better shape than me.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re breathing hard,” she pointed out.

I was. And I hated to admit I wasn’t in the best shape after all that smoke, but I was better than her.

“You stink,” I said.

“Hey! That’s not nice. You don’t exactly smell like roses.”

“Before we get in my bed, we’re taking a shower.”

“I have a feeling we’re going to smell like smoke for the next week.”

I sighed because I knew we would. It would cling to our hair and skin. “I have a good soap that cuts through some of it.”