The Simple Wild: A Novel(66)

“Jonah also told me you asked him if he wanted to buy Alaska Wild.”

“He told you that, hey?” My dad presses his lips together, his gaze drifting to the matted carpet.

“Was he not supposed to?”

“I guess I didn’t tell him not to,” he says after a moment. “Of everyone I know, he’s the one who’d do right by it. There’s been some interest from Aro Airlines to buy me out, but Wild would get swallowed up.” He smiles sadly. “Don’t know if I’m ready to see that happen yet.”

But Jonah says he doesn’t have the money anyway, so what option does that leave my dad with?

“He said you were thinking of retiring.”

He takes a long, deep breath. “Considering it. It’s been a long thirty years. Wouldn’t mind taking a bit of a rest.” He pauses, and then asks, “You tired?”

“Not really. I had a nap this afternoon.” That Benadryl knocked me out. Thankfully, the swelling has not expanded beyond the blue ink lines I drew.

“I’ve got some movies over there in the cupboard. They’re old, but they’re some of my favorites.”

Is my dad asking me to watch a movie with him in a roundabout way? Is this Wren Fletcher, trying to get to know his daughter again?

“I could go and pick one for us to watch,” I say, tentatively.

“Yeah? Well, okay then.”

I shut down my laptop and cast it aside, and then head for the corner cabinet.

But not before catching the small smile of satisfaction touching my dad’s lips.





Chapter 13




I stir to the distant sound of someone knocking.

A moment later, the knock sounds again, only it’s more like pounding.

And it’s on my bedroom door.

I push off my eye mask and squint against the glow of sunlight from around the edge of the curtains. “Yeah?” I call out, my voice hoarse with sleep.

There’s no answer, only more knocking. It’s an urgent sound, and it puts me on edge.

I wrestle with my covers to free myself and stumble for the door, throwing it open.

Jonah is filling the doorway.

“What’s wrong? Is my dad okay?” I ask in a panic, searching the hall for any signs of him.

He stares hard at me for a long moment, his gaze skating over my features.

“Jonah?”

He blinks several times. “So this is what you look like, without all that shit on your face.”

I sigh with exasperation. “I’m not in the mood for your crap this early. What do you want? Where’s my dad?”

Jonah’s eyes drop to my chest, reminding me that I’m in a cotton tank top, braless. And the air is crisp.

I fold my arms across myself reflexively, even as a strange shiver dances along my skin.

His gaze snaps up. “He had to fly to Anchorage. I thought you’d be up.”

I study those glacier-blue irises for a moment. They look somehow darker. Heated. Is he . . . turned on? “We stayed up late to watch a movie and then I couldn’t fall asleep. What time is it, anyway?”

“Seven. Get dressed. You’re flying today.”

That pulls me out of whatever fog I’m trapped in. “I’m what?”

“It’s a clear day and your dad wants you to see more of Alaska. You’ve been here three days already. It’s time you get in a plane.”

“With you?” I say doubtfully.

He smirks. “Come on. You can get some pictures for Wild’s website. You said you wanted to do that, right?”

Anxiety is quickly rising in my belly like a twirling windstorm at the thought of getting into a plane—with Jonah—again. But with it is a strange sense of excitement. Besides, I don’t want to spend the day sitting around, looking for ways to kill time until my dad comes home. “Fine. Give me an hour.”

He barks out a laugh. “You have five minutes.”

“Yeah, right. I can’t get ready in five minutes. I’m not you.”

I get a flat look in return. “You’re in Alaska. Throw on some clothes, brush your teeth, and let’s go.”

“Half an hour.” If I skip showering and rush my makeup, I can do that.

“Five minutes.”

“Twenty,” I barter.

His normally icy gaze slides over my mouth, my throat, my chest, and farther, before coming back up to meet my eyes. His hard swallow fills the silence. “You don’t need all that to look good, Calla. Seriously.”

My words falter. Was that a compliment?

From Jonah?

And why is this heated gaze I’m seeing not making me uncomfortable?

Why does it seem to be doing the exact opposite, sending a small thrill through me? Am I . . . ? No, even if the top half of his face is attractive and his body is impressive, I can’t be attracted to him. I can’t get past the yeti hair.

But something about the look in Jonah’s eyes is arousing my curiosity.

“Fifteen minutes,” I say, clearing the wobble from my voice.

“If you’re not out in five, I will come in here, throw you over my shoulder, and carry you out.”

“You will not.”

He gives me a wicked smile in return, one that makes my blood start to flow. “Try me. And just know, I won’t care if you’re not dressed.” He pushes a few buttons on his watch.