12
After ten long days, the fire was drawing to a close. And so was his summer.
None of that mattered anymore.
What mattered was Mallory. They hadn’t gone to their wood beneath the jets every night—though each time they did it was even more memorable than the first. But even the nights they’d just lain together in their bags among the sleeping helo pilots curled up on the grass were remarkable.
It was as if the amazing s*x was no longer the only thing that mattered. In the past, that had always been the defining and sometimes sole purpose of his relationships. With Mallory it was only one part of an amazing amount of greatness.
She’d unfolded her past like a book. Each page so clear. How the death of her big brother had almost destroyed her until she’d found smokejumping. She understo
