And each other.
So I nodded. Why the hell not live life a little recklessly?
“For a couple hours?” As soon as the employee asked the question, I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing.
“Nah, buddy. For the whole night. We’ll need a late checkout too. Trust me. It’s going to take all that time to satisfy my needs.”
The warm flush sliding up from the base of my neck brought a slight giggle, which I stifled by pressing my fingers across my mouth.
“Alrighty then. I’ll just need a credit card,” the man said, amusement clearly in his voice.
Now I was the one who lifted an eyebrow, mimicking him in a question. The corners of his mouth upturned as he pulled out his wallet, yanking out a credit card. “Oh, and a room with a view. Best you got.”
Axe still wasn’t paying the man any mind, enjoying eyeing me as a tasty treat, a morsel he had every intention of consuming.
Meanwhile, the older man behind the counter had his eyebrows furrowed, darting his eyes back and forth between us. Obviously, he wasn’t used to dealing with a man like Axe, a guy who insisted on everything going his way.
The clerk snagged the card and just before he ran it through his system, he glanced at Axe again. “They said you died on that mountain.”
“What?” I almost choked.
Axe was calm and collected, finally turning his head toward the guy. “Here I am in the flesh. There isn’t a fire that can consume me.”
I poked him in the stomach while the clerk grumbled under his breath.
“I guess that makes you a legend,” the clerk added. Somehow, I didn’t think he meant that as a compliment.
“Nah, just a guy hoping to impress a girl.”
The answer I hadn’t expected. While the charges were being applied, Axe reached over, taking my fingers into his. The gesture was simple, more like one a man would take who was uncertain of the lady’s desires. But that wasn’t the case at all.
His actions were merely a not-so-subtle reminder of what was to come once we were safely tucked behind closed doors.
“You’re all set. I put you nice folks in the bridal suite,” the clerk said. I felt like time started moving again as he pushed two sets of real keys with a plastic tab indicating the room number toward us.
Even before it began, I knew the night was one I’d remember for a long time to come.
Axe grabbed both, shoving them into his pocket and with exaggerated motions, swung around to finally fully face the man. Still leaning over the counter, he grinned like a man holding a raucous secret. “You got any snacks around here?”
The awkward moment caught everyone off guard. The sudden cease in conversation was by no means silent, the television still blaring. The nightly news was on.
Another station.
Another broadcaster.
The same story only told from a different angle.
“While our local smokejumping team has been heralded for several risky rescues over the years, the events occurring yesterday on the west side of the Bitterroot Mountains are an incredible reminder of their constant bravery. One of our own, Axe Beckett, saved another smokejumper’s life when a burst of wind threatened to drag him off the cliff.”
Axe’s face contorted from amusement and he shrugged as if it was no big deal.
The reporter continued with the story and the three of us remained quiet.
What the report did for me was to remind me of just how dangerous his chosen profession was. When it was over, I turned away, feeling emotional. A few tears formed as my brain processed one too many what-if scenarios.
“Wow,” the clerk said. “I guess you are alive, Mr. Beckett. Hold on a second.”
Axe pulled me forward and against him. I gingerly placed my hand on his chest. “You almost died. Didn’t you?”
