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“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, then pointed down the length of the balloon. “The crown line is twisted.”
“Got it,” John said, stepping away.
Henry, the big boss, company owner, and primary pilot, was overseeing prep on the other balloon,Desert Skies One.Desert Skies Two,the balloon Erin was prepping, would be piloted by Madden, who was so busy chatting up female guests half his age that everything else fell to Erin.
I frowned. The Marines had technicians pre-check every flight, but every self-respecting pilot did their own check too.
Not Madden.
I stepped back, looking over the balloon, the lines, and the basket one more time.
“Boss lady won’t like you admiring her ass,” Chico warned in a low, laughing whisper.
I wasn’t admiring her ass. I was admiring her work. But now that he mentioned it…
My gaze wandered down the curve of her jeans as she squatted before the balloon. A split second later, I jerked my eyes back to the balloon.
Not appropriate. Not respectful. And above all, not interested.
“Not that it’s not a nice ass,” Chico went on, using the loud jabber of guests to cover his chuckle. “Still, a little scrawny for my taste.”
Scrawny? Looked pretty perfect to me. The thick flannel shirt and blue beanie clamped down over her long chestnut hair gave her a cute, tomboy look too. Not that I said as much.
“All right, everyone. Keep back, please.” Erin checked the area, then pulled the burner cord.
And,whoosh!A four-foot flame blasted into the frigid dawn air.
I watched it, transfixed by the heat. The roar. The sheer power.
I didn’t know what I was expecting, but I didn’t expect it to be so…exhilarating. A little like dragon fire.
Not even close,my inner beast sniffed.
Maybe not, but my senses had been so dull lately, it was nice to be mesmerized for a change.
Our guests oohed and aahed as the balloon slowly rose until it was vertical.Thump!The basket followed, tipping from sideways to upright.
Whoosh!Erin released another blast of fire.
My throat warmed as my dragon side fantasized about spitting fire.
“Wow. That’s amazing,” one of the guests murmured.
Ha. What would they say if they knew I really could spit fire?
I glanced at Erin through the flames. The glow reflected on her cheeks, hair, and in her laser-focused eyes. Her fingers played over the burner cord as she judged exactly when to blast more fire.
Then I cocked my head, because she didn’t move her fingers in any which way. Her fingers curled, and a sagging section of the balloon filled out smoothly.
Hang on. Is she directing the air?my dragon asked.
I stared, thinking of the previous night, when the candles had reacted to her. That, and the fact that her father was a warlock. Was she only a relic — or more?
Either way, she was awfully good at filling a balloon. So perfectly, the entire, massive bulb rose half an inch off the ground and hovered there. Not bad, especially on a chilly winter morning when tiny temperature shifts made for tricky handling — and especially on a balloon that big.
I glanced over toDesert Skies One. Henry had forty years’ experience, but his balloon vacillated between scratching the ground and two feet above.
“Grab it here.” Chico gestured for me to help him steady the basket as Madden climbed in.
