"When was the last time you jumped?"

"What?"

Eli Marshal loved to put that look on Jed Thatcher’s face. They were still new enough together that he loved putting any look there, especially well fucked, but Jed was usually so with it that when he got that befuddled look Eli thought it was fucking hilarious. He repeated and expanded the question. "When was the last time you went skydiving?"

The look went from befuddled to no way. "That’s your job, Mister. You and Ross. I fly the plane. I don’t jump out of it."

"Oh come on." This? Was fun. "Are you afraid of it? I know you had to learn in the Army."

"You’re right. I had to. Stands to reason I wouldn’t want to again." Jed flipped Jumbo the giant wolfhound a piece of bacon, making the rest of their menagerie wag their tails and drool. Those bright blue eyes met his, serious and repressive. "So no."

"Oh." Well. Damn. Just like that. He hid his disappointment in his coffee cup. Fire season was over, but Eli needed to do some jump training thanks to being out half the season with his bad ankle. He’d hoped Jed would jump with him.

Jed just put the leftovers on his plate down on the floor so the dogs could have at and peered at him. "You’re serious? You want me to jump with you?"

"Well, I thought it might be fun to go together. But if you don’t want to." Eli grimaced. He sounded like he was whining. Jesus. He was a big boy. He could jump without help. Maybe Jed would fly him.

"Well, I know a guy. He’d be willing to fly for us."

The grin that spread over Eli’s face felt huge. "You’ll go?"

"Yeah. If you want. Reckon it’d be cool to see you jump from up there."

The man constantly amazed him.