The Simple Wild: A Novel(67)

“Did you just start a timer for me?”

“Five minutes. I’ll be waiting in the truck.”

I glower at his retreating back.

“Tick tock!”

“Asshole.” With a huff, I dive for my jeans.



“Are you trying to hit every last crack in the pavement?” I snap, glaring at my own reflection in the vanity mirror as I attempt to apply a second coat of mascara to my eyelashes.

“You’re in the Alaskan bush. Stop with all that,” he mutters, but slows a touch. Still, the ground is too bumpy for a steady hand.

I give up on a second coat, cap my mascara, and throw it into my purse. “Why does everyone keep calling it ‘the bush’ anyway? ‘The bush’ means dense forest where I’m from. There’s no forest here. There’re barely any trees. No bush.” I add quietly, “Besides the one on your face.”

“Aren’t we a bit plucky this morning.” He sounds amused.

I slide my sunglasses on to block the blinding sun, a welcome change from the drizzle but not when it’s shining directly into my eyes. “If you don’t like it, next time don’t drag me out of my bed and chase me out the door.” I’m never in good spirits when I’m forced to rush in the morning.

“I gave you an extra three minutes.”

“You’re too kind.” I reach for the travel mug of coffee I managed to fill before Jonah plowed into the kitchen, his watch alarm dinging. “I don’t know how you keep all the women around here from beating down your door.”

His soft chuckle sends a warm shiver down my spine. I hate that he has an appealing laugh. “Glad to see that you have a little fire in you, after all.”

“I guess you bring out the best in me,” I mutter. I’m not normally like this. It’s as if I’m itching for a fight.

He takes the next right turn too quickly and coffee splashes onto my white cotton T-shirt.

“Dammit!” I brush it away, but it’s no use.

“Relax. It’s just a T-shirt.”

“It cost me a hundred bucks.”

“You paid a hundred bucks for that?” Jonah’s eyebrows tighten as he looks at me with a clear “you’re an idiot” expression.

“What! It wears well and still looks new after fifty washes.”

“For a hundred bucks, I sure as shit hope it washes itself.”

“Are you saying that your high-quality clothing from the local grocery store doesn’t?” I cast a cutting look at his shirt, which, despite being basic, looks nice on him.

He smirks. “Have you been enjoying your soy milk these last couple mornings?”

Crap. I completely forgot. And of course he’d bring that up after I delivered a low blow, just to make me feel extra small. He doesn’t fight fair. “Thank you for that.” I hesitate. “That was nice of you.”

“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for everyone who has to be around you.”

I grit my teeth to stop from responding and turn my body away from him, focusing on the airport ahead.

So much for our truce.



Agnes’s sharp eyes shift from me, to Jonah, to me, the curiosity shining in them. “Two go out, two come back, right?”

“She needs me to fly, so she can’t do away with me.” Jonah accepts a small ambulance-red case with a strap from Sonny and hoists it into the back of the orange-and-white plane. “At least, not until we get back.”

Thank God this plane is bigger, I note, eying the two seats side by side in the front, and another row behind. The seat material is a deep burgundy that clashes terribly with the orange stripe on the exterior. Not that color coordination matters to me. I just want this thing to stay in the air.

“Here. You’ll need that.” Jonah tosses a thin-knit black hoodie to me.

Agnes studies my face as I tug it on. “You look different today, Calla.”

“That’s because Jonah barely gave me time to pee, let alone put makeup on.” I feel naked and self-conscious. I can’t remember the last time I went out in public bare-faced. I don’t even go to the gym without my eyes done.

Agnes smiles warmly. “I like the barely-time-to-pee look. It suits you.”

I yank the zipper closed and roll up the long sleeves that reach an inch past my fingertips. It’s far too big for me, but I’m not drowning in it as badly as I’d expect, given it’s Jonah’s. And I can tell it’s Jonah’s because it smells like him, like woodsy soap and minty something. “Do you think I’ll get my clothes today?”

“Yes, definitely. Your dad is bringing your suitcases back with him.”

“Oh, thank God. I can’t wait to have my rubber boots.” I peer down at my dusty running shoes. Ruined.

“All set?” Jonah asks, looming beside me. There’s an odd energy about him that I haven’t felt before. Is he always like this when he’s about to fly?

I didn’t feel it yesterday.

“Where are we going, anyway?”

“Would it mean anything if I told you?”

“No,” I admit. “But is it in the mountains?” Because after my first experience, plus that story about Mabel’s father, I’m out if mountains are involved.