Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
He covers the hand clutching his sweatshirt.
“I’m sorry.” I pry my fingers from the soft fabric, but before I can tuck my hand close to my own body, he threads his fingers through mine. It’s an unexpected level of intimacy.
“A couple more minutes and we’ll be on the ground again,” he reassures me.
I squeeze his hand as the plane descends and squeak out my anxiety when the wheels touch down, pressing my face against RJ’s chest.
Eventually, when it’s clear we’re bumping along the tarmac, I peek up.
RJ grins down at me; it’s disarmingly charming. “We survived.”
I look out the window at the mountains rising to my right, the water on the left. “We did.” Now that we’re on the ground I’m embarrassed all over again. “Thank you for being my personal support person and human teddy bear.”
RJ smiles even wider. “It was honestly my pleasure.”
“I don’t know if witnessing me toss my cookies was a pleasure for anyone, but thank you for being so nice.” I gather my purse and mitts, making sure I have everything before we disembark. Our luggage is waiting for us on the tarmac. The cold air coming off the water makes me shiver, probably because I’ve been roasting in my parka for the past hour. I shove my hands in my mitts and try to bat my hair away from my face—it’s not particularly effective, given how windy it is.
“Let me give you a hand,” RJ offers when he notices my struggle. He slings his huge duffel over his shoulder and grabs the handle of my suitcase, and we head for the warmth and safety of the arrival terminal. I rush to keep up with his long strides.
Once we’re inside and the wind is no longer an issue, I tuck my mitts into my purse and quickly braid my hair so it’s not a problem when I have to go outside again. RJ stops when we reach the car rental desk. “Where are you heading from here?”
“I have a cabin about ten miles past the town of Kodiak. It’s supposed to be on the water. I wanted an authentic Alaskan experience.” My printout with the directions from the airport to the cabin is in my purse.
“So you need a rental, then?” RJ motions to the kiosk. “I’m picking up a vehicle. If you want, I can drive you to Kodiak and you can get one there—it’ll be a lot less expensive without the airport taxes.”
I fidget with the end of my braid, embarrassed. “Oh, that’s really nice of you, but I don’t have my license.”
RJ tips his head to the side, his expression curious. “How are you planning to get to your cabin?”
“I was going to shuttle to town and then cab the rest of the way.”
“Or I could just drive you.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that. We might be in opposite directions.”
“You said you’re ten miles outside of Kodiak, right? I’m already heading in that direction. I don’t mind dropping you off—unless you’re waiting on someone?”
“Oh no, it’s just me.” I try to keep my hands still instead of talking with them, which is something I do when I’m nervous. Incidentally, I’m nervous often.
RJ’s brow furrows. “So you’re alone here without a car?” This seems to concern him, which of course means it also starts to concern me.
“I can always call a cab when I need to go to town.” I used to bike everywhere back home. And during my brief stint in Seattle I took public transit. That was definitely nerve-racking. All those people so close together.
It would be a good idea to get a bike so I can go back and forth to town for groceries and stuff. That way I won’t have to worry so much about making polite chitchat with the cab drivers. Also, there are a lot of movies about psycho killers who pick up unsuspecting victims and such. I don’t want to meet any of those while I’m here. I put purchasing a bike on my mental to-do list. Mostly I’m tired and in need of a shower and maybe a little rest after this long day.
“Okay.” He scratches the back of his neck. “But at least let me drive you today.”
“Only if it’s not too much trouble.” He seems safe and not like a psycho killer.
He graces me with the same brain-fritzing smile as before. “It’s no trouble at all, Lainey.”
I wait with our bags while he gets the keys to his vehicle. Then we head to the valet, where a huge gray truck with roll bars and waist-high tires is parked curbside.
RJ puts our bags in the back and helps me into the passenger seat before he rounds the hood and climbs in. He adjusts the radio so it’s playing a local station and turns the volume down low as we follow the signs for Kodiak.