Plain Jane & The Hotshot by Meagan McKinney Page A

She’d made love with him for hours and the world went away. The hurting went away. She wanted to do it again and again until…
    She noticed he’d turned quiet. Gently he led her along the road to the cabin.
    His silence began to rattle her.
    All sorts of demons appeared in her mind. The worst demon of all was the fear of tomorrow. Of never seeing him again, of realizing she’d just been had for a one-night stand.
    She watched him, their breaths forming faint wraiths in the waning moonlight.
    They were near the summit now, and she could make out the faint outlines of the two cabins through the cluster of pines ahead. Beyond them she could see the faint glimmer in the east known as false dawn.
    â€œI think we best say good-night out here in the road,” Jo suggested. “I don’t want to get caught with you. I’ll have to fess up soon enough, but I’ll need some sleep first.”
    The first pang of remorse tightened her heart. Staring at him, she felt cold reality seep in. The question circled silently overhead like a vulture.
    When am I going to see you again?
    She’d behaved impetuously, and imprudent acts were usually paid for in a pound of flesh. She hardly knew him. They’d fallen together in the moonlight, in the heat of loneliness.
    Right now she wondered if what they’d shared had even been real, let alone if it was something with substance, something that would last.
    Is this going to be it? she wondered, a chill overtaking her.
    Or would they just keep meeting when they could, maybe have a wild little fling in the boonies until it was time for her to go back to Mystery?
    Would the whole experience be chalked up to good times, and they’d never see each other again?
    Perhaps she was ready to revise her opinion about men. Maybe it was enough to have just the best sex in the world and nothing else. After Ned, maybe that was all she needed. No heart involved. Just free-wheeling physical pleasure, no strings. That might be best. Low emotional expectations but high-power orgasms, to avoid the heartache.
    Acting far more bravely than she felt, she finally summoned the courage to speak the dreaded question. “So when I am going to—”
    â€œLook,” he said, cutting her off, “I have to tell you my schedule up here is pretty mercurial. I can’t plan any kind of date until the fires are all out. But I’d still like to see you if I can.”
    Pain shot through her heart like a thunderbolt. She knew what he was saying. If she was convenient, he’d come around again. But there were no plans. There was really nothing between them but sex.
    So maybe she should be relieved, instead of hurt, she scolded herself. It was easier this way. More direct, less messy. Minimum involvement, maximum fun.
    â€œWe’ll see how it goes, then,” she said evenly, not showing a trace of her wounded feelings.
    He paused as if he had something on his mind that he was burning to let out. Finally he said, “I know Hazel keeps you busy, but there’s a good café in Stony Rapids. We’ve got a van I can use, parked at the ranger station. How ’bout lunch tomorrow? I don’t go on duty until six down in the canyon.”
    â€œI don’t know,” she murmured, not sure if she could keep the act up. “Maybe that would work. We’ve got a break tomorrow because Hazel and hercronies are going into town to buy…uh, Neat’s-foot oil and a few other weird things like that.”
    â€œNeat’s-foot oil isn’t weird, townie. You use it to waterproof leather. I rub it on my boots all the time.”
    â€œI know,” Jo said, nervousness tickling her stomach as she thought about the Chute. “We’ll be waterproofing ours, too, for the river rafting.”
    â€œPiece of cake,” he assured her. Then he smiled. “So maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?”
    â€œLooks like it, Mr. Fireman.” She studied