Love In Alaska (The Love In 50 States Series Book 2) (4 page)

What's this?

His contact info. Just in case.

Trust your instincts, Jess.

I'm trying.

And have fun. Want details when you're back.

A big blue pick-up truck pulled up to the curb and I recognized Evan behind the wheel. I stuffed my phone back in my bag and dumped my trash in the waste basket and, swallowing the lump that had suddenly developed in my throat, made my way toward the door.

Evan was already out of the truck by the time I got outside. He had on a black polar fleece, tan cargo pants and his dirty hiking boots. His sunglasses were atop his wet hair.

“Morning,” he said, smiling. “Was afraid I might have to come wake you. Jet lag can be tough coming this far west.”

“I managed,” I said.

He took my backpack from my shoulder and opened the passenger door, stuffing it in the back cab. It wasn't a macho thing. It was simply polite. He stood back so I could climb in, then shut the door behind me. The inside of the cab was warm and acoustic music played softly through the speakers on the doors. There were two to-go cups full of coffee in the center console.

Evan climbed in the driver's side and motioned at the coffee. “Wasn't sure if you were a coffee drinker. I took a chance.”

I took the cup closest to me. “I am. Thank you.”

“Up here, it's kind of a requirement,” he said, grinning. “I thought it might be in Vermont, too.”

“More or less.”

He lowered his sunglasses over his eyes, shifted the truck into drive and we exited the hotel parking lot. “We're about fifteen minutes away. Not far.” He pulled onto the main road that ran parallel to the sound. “So. No second thoughts about just taking off with me?”

I didn't want to admit just how many thoughts had run through my mind that morning. “Should I have second thoughts?”

“I don't think so,” he said, shaking his head. “But I kinda like me and I know I'm not some nutjob. You haven't had the opportunity really to decide either of those things, so I'd understand if you'd changed your mind. Sort of.” He flashed me a grin.

“Well I guess this is my opportunity then,” I said, trying to keep the conversation light. Because if I didn't, I ran the risk of either giving him the third degree or chickening out. “To decide those things.”

He nodded. “I will attempt to earn your admiration.”

“How about if you just earn my trust by flying safely?” I said. “Let's start there.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

I settled into my seat, sipping my coffee and staring at the scenery flying by out of my window. The downtown buildings faded away and we entered a more industrial looking area filled with large concrete lots and construction equipment.

“So when do you head back to Vermont?” he asked, making conversation.

“Probably not for close to a year.”

He kept one hand on the wheel and reached for his coffee with the other. “What?”

I wasn't tipsy like I'd been in Alabama, so I wasn't going to blurt out all of my goals for the trip. Evan was only going to hear about half of them.

“I'm traveling the U.S.,” I said. “All fifty states.”

“No shit?” he asked, his voice filled with surprise. His cheeks colored. “Sorry. I mean, really?”

I laughed. “If you apologize for swearing, you're going to make me feel like an old lady. So, yeah. No shit. All fifty – in order.”

“By yourself?”

“By myself.”

He let out a long whistle. “Damn. That is seriously cool. I'm jealous.”

“How can you be jealous? You get to fly a plane all over Alaska.”

He took another sip of coffee, his hand down on the low end of the steering wheel. “Not the same thing. You've got the freedom thing going on. That's awesome.”

“It's my first taste of freedom,” I said. I reached for my own cup. “Have you always lived here? In Alaska, I mean.”

He shook his head. “Nah. Been here about six years.” He glanced at me. “You want full disclosure?”

I raised my eyebrows and said nothing. I had no idea what 'full disclosure' meant to him.

“I married young,” he told me. “And got divorced young. I moved here after that...my way of trying to leave it all behind.”

Something inside of me relaxed. Not only because his full disclosure wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, but because it helped solidify for me that I wasn't the only person in their mid-twenties who'd already made what felt like colossal life mistakes. I appreciated his honesty.

“That makes two of us,” I said. “Divorced, I mean.”

His eyes widened. “For real?”

“For real.”

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head. “That guy's a fool.”

The blood worked its way to my face like it always did when I was paid a compliment. “You don't even know me.”

“Sorry,” he said, making a left turn toward the sound. “Now I really do sound like a weasel.” His eyes scanned the rearview mirror as we slowed. “I just mean that I'm not sure why anyone wouldn't want to be with you.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know enough,” he said simply. “And I don't mean that in some stalker-ish way. I mean, besides the obvious – you're pretty – you're nice, too. And funny.”

“Uh, thank you,” I said, unnerved by that declaration and unnerved some more by the fact that the things I'd noticed about him were the very same things he'd identified in me.

We pulled into a gated lot right up against the edge of the sound The water was bluer than the sky, cotton ball clouds peppering the horizon. The wind appeared calm and even though I didn't know the first thing about flying, it looked like a perfect day to take up an airplane.

Evan parked the truck in an open stall and shut off the engine. He set his coffee down but made no move to get out of the truck.

“The divorce,” he said. His hand was still on the steering wheel. “My divorce. Totally wrecked me for awhile. When I got here, I decided to pretty much start over and part of that was not wasting opportunities, you know? Not letting things pass me by, even if they didn't work out the way I wanted. I have a big mouth and I usually say what I'm thinking because for years, I kept my mouth shut. Hence, the embarrassing pronouncement a few minutes ago, about why I can't see how someone would want to divorce you.” He smiled and pushed the glasses back on top of his head. “And it's why I came and talked to you on the boat yesterday. I didn't want to get off the boat and have any regrets, wishing I'd said hello to you.”

I studied him for a long moment. He was sincere. And I knew what it was like to keep your mouth closed for too long. I envied that he'd gotten to a place in his life where he could be so open. I wondered if I'd ever get there.

“And to be even more honest,” he continued. “If you'd been rude to me or boring or didn't laugh at me, I wouldn't have invited you out on the plane. I would've just said nice to meet you and moved on. But – bonus for me – you were nice and funny.” He shrugged. “Just gave more weight to my whole 'don't let anything pass you by' philosophy.”

“But I was rude to you,” I pointed out. “At first.”

He laughed. “Because you thought I was hitting on you while my girlfriend was upstairs. That just made me like you more. My sister said 'I like her already' when I told her that.”

I smiled.

“So,” he said, pulling the keys from the ignition. “To be clear. I liked you on the boat and I still like you. But this trip is purely on the up and up, with no hidden agenda other than to show you Alaska. The second you've had enough, you tell me, and we'll fly right back.” He was smiling but I heard the sincerity in his voice. “Deal?”

“Deal,” I said. “And Evan?”

His door was half-open. “Yeah.”

“Full disclosure,” I said, smiling. “I like you, too.”

FIVE

Evan insisted on carrying my backpack in addition to his backpack. I carried my coffee.

We walked across the lot and I looked in one direction, then the other. “I don't see an actual airport.”

He chuckled. “Just wait.”

We reached the end of the lot and passed through an opening in the chain link fence that surrounded the parking area. There was a boardwalk that ran along the sound and he walked down it. I followed. The water was calm and a few seagulls squawked overhead as they dove toward the surface, hovering an inch or so above the water as they searched for breakfast. We walked about fifty yards and then he set the bags down on the walk.

He grinned at me, almost like he was waiting for my reaction. He pointed toward the water. “There's our airport.”

I turned to look. “Where?”

He laughed. “The water.”

“What?”

He put his hand on the small of my back and turned me just slightly. “And there's our ride.”

I saw two boats and thought he was kidding. Then, tied to the dock, I saw a small airplane. Sitting on the water.

“It's a seaplane,” Evan said. “We take off on the water. And we'll probably land on it.”

My stomach knotted. “On purpose?”

He laughed and patted my back. “On purpose. Don't worry. It'll be the greatest thing you've ever seen.” He nodded toward a small office building at the end of the walk. “I've gotta go do some quick paperwork. Be back in five minutes.”

He jogged the last twenty-five yards and disappeared into the office.

I turned to the water and shaded my eyes. Even with sunglasses on, the morning sun on the sound was bright enough to cause me to squint. The mountains loomed large on the other side, throwing spiked shadows across the surface of the water. The seaplane was red, save for a few white stripes on top of the wings. It rested on two giant pontoon tubes and sat perfectly still in the calm water.

My eyes drifted back to the plane's cabin. I didn't have the normal fear that a lot of my friends had of small planes, where they somehow thought they were more dangerous than a commercial plane. But maybe that was because I'd never flown in one before. A moment of panic invaded my psyche. What if Evan was a terrible pilot? What if some freak storm blew in? What if a bird hit the window and I fell out of the tiny, tiny plane? What if the plane crashed and we got lost in the wilderness and died like that kid from
Into The Wild
?

Maybe I wasn't so adventurous after all.

I took a deep breath, taking in the water and the mountains, remembering I was about as far from Vermont as I could get. I reminded myself that I'd been spinning my wheels, both before the divorce and after it. I'd been the opposite of adventurous.

I'd been stuck.

I might've had some anxiety about going up in that plane, but I feared being stuck for the unforeseen future even more. I didn't want to be stuck and to get out of that rut, I was going to have to take some risks.

Evan emerged from the office and trotted back down to me. “Okay. We're good to go. We don't even have to load up. Groceries got delivered this morning and Jerry already put them on the plane.”

“Groceries?”

“Yeah. We're delivering groceries.” He noticed my puzzled expression. “Kodiak is a big island but parts of it are pretty remote. We're flying produce in.”

“Produce? Like fruit and stuff?”

He grinned. “Yeah, fruit and stuff. I actually could have done two runs today but I wanted to save some time for us to explore. You know, do more than just be delivery men.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“You sure you're still up for this?”

A small voice inside of me reminded me that I didn't want to be stuck. “I'm still up for it..”

“Good.” He glanced at the sky. “We have good flying weather today. Chance of rain tomorrow but that's pretty normal for this time of year. I figured we could drop our delivery and maybe do a little hiking, if you're up for it.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd been hiking but instead of worrying me, I felt a small thrill of excitement at the prospect. “That actually sounds great.”

“It's a neat place,” he said, picking up his backpack and looping it over his shoulder. “Pretty remote and rugged. Lots to see.”

“That's what I'm here for,” I said.

He grabbed my backpack and I followed him down the dock to the plane. He pulled open a door in the middle and slid everything in. Then he opened another compartment near the back of the plane and inspected whatever was inside. He nodded and then shut it. He inspected the tail, then squatted down and peered at the pontoons on the bottom of the plane. He stood and walked to the front, putting his hand on the propeller. Once he seemed satisfied, he nodded again.

“Okay, think we're good,” he said. “I gotta climb in first.”

He went back to the first door and climbed through it. I followed him in. The cabin was like the interior of a VW bug, small and narrow with vinyl seats. An instrument panel that looked like a dashboard sat parallel to my knees. I pulled the door closed behind me and turned the latch. Evan pulled on a pair of oversized headphones and motioned for me to do the same with the ones on the dash. I set them over my ears and tried to adjust to the muffled silence.