Pulaski?" Steve asked, wide-eyed. He sounded impressed.
He was a tall, lithe jaguar shifter with long black hair wound into a man-bun and smooth, deeply tanned features with the high cheekbones and the aquiline nose of an ancient Maya warrior statue.
Mike nodded. "Yeah. She's amazing. She saved my butt by breaking the guy's arm and fucking up his shoulder. It'll be a while before he can pick up a rifle again." He grinned at them. "You should have seen her. She stood over him and told him that if he made one wrong move, she'd self-defense him into hamburger."
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Kara's pleased smile as her face turned bright red with embarrassment. Apparently, she hadn't expected him to make her the hero of their little adventure.
"Holy shit," Thor said. He glanced at Kara. "Never mind. You can keep the dried mango, Joker. Hell, I'll buy you a five-pound bag of your very own the next time I go to Costco. Organic and everything."
"You're a genuine superhero, Joker," Steve agreed, grinning.
Still blushing, Kara chuckled. "Hey, before I grab all the glory for myself, Grumpy Bear forgot a few important details. Namely, that the only reason I was even around to wield my Pulaski of Vengeance against that creep was because he saved me from an angry mama grizzly. She was chasing me, and I kid you not, I fell flat on my ass like every chick you've ever seen running from a bad guy in a slasher movie. Mike charged in, literally showed up in the nick of time, and fought her off."
Thor eyed them both with amusement. "Okay, now you guys have to tell us everything that happened on your pack-out."
Mike and Kara traded a long look that communicated the same thought: Not a chance.
“Let’s wait until Felicia and Josh get here," Kara said. "So that we only have to tell the story once."
Chapter 17
Piping Hot
Ft. Wainwright Smokejumper Base
Fairbanks, Alaska
Later that afternoon
"Hey, Kara, I've got a surprise for you," Mike said from behind her.
Kara was sitting at one of the many sewing machines that lined the cavernous, warehouse-like space of the smokejumpers' parachute loft.
At the sound of his voice, she jumped guiltily and turned to face him. As she did so, she tried to use her body to block his view of her special project.
The loft was the place where parachutes were inspected after every use for any signs of wear or damage, and repaired if necessary. Once a parachute had passed inspection, the canopy and lines would be stretched out on one of the long rigging tables, and the parachute would be folded in a careful series of steps and packed inside a deployment bag, also known as a D-bag.
The parachute loft's walls were hung with the senior jumpers' gear, interspersed with framed photographs of Alaska Smokejumpers members dating back decades, and pieces of vintage gear.
"Here." Mike had somehow gotten hold of her tall, insulated travel mug. It emitted a thin wisp of steam as he extended it to her.
"Is that…coffee?" she breathed in delighted disbelief.
She accepted the cup and inhaled the fragrance of French roast mingled with hot milk.
"Carl told me that there was an espresso stand next to the base commissary," Mike explained, watching her reaction with a pleased smile. "I thought I'd check it out."
She took her first sip of pure heaven and sighed with happiness. It was piping hot, with a generous amount of cream and one sugar, exactly the way she liked it.
He even remembered how I take my coffee! She was simultaneously touched and deeply unsettled by this small, sweet, and completely unexpected gesture. It left her wondering about how closely he'd been observing her. And for how long.
Ed never even brought me flowers, she remembered. She was pretty sure that he didn't have had a clue how she liked her coffee.
"Thank you," she said with genuine gratitude and saw how the watchful wariness in Mike's expression melted into a smile as warm and sweet as hot fudge sauce. "You have no idea how much I've been craving one of these."
"Oh, I think I had a hint or two. Glad you like it." Then Mike looked past her. His eyes widened. "Hey…is that my pack-out bag?"
Out of the corner of her eye, Kara saw Felicia shoot her a look that meant Kara could expect a lengthy interrogation on their flight back to Colorado this evening.
Crap. Kara sighed. She'd been planning to fold it up and slip it back