Undeniable (Cloverleigh Farms #2)(21)

I took my backpack down first, setting it on the floor just as Oliver came in the door. “You’re sure I don’t need to pack snacks or anything? I have some things that might come in handy.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

From my pantry I pulled some homemade trail mix and poured it into a Ziploc bag, then added a few protein bars and some dried fruit. “Did you talk to your mom?”

“Yep. She’s beyond thrilled. Can’t wait to see you.”

“I’m excited to see her too.” I crouched down, sticking the Ziploc in my backpack. “It’s been a long time. Maybe since that Christmas party at Cloverleigh your family came to a few years ago.”

“Oh, right.”

I looked up and smiled, unable to resist digging at him, although at the time, I hadn’t found it amusing at all. “You brought your fiancée that night.”

“Why don’t I grab your other bag?” he asked, disappearing up the steps before I could answer.

Clearly, his broken engagement was not his favorite subject.

From the kitchen counter, I grabbed my phone, charger, sunglasses case, and keys. After sticking the glasses on my head, I wedged the other items into an outside pocket, and tried on the pack.

Oliver came down carrying my suitcase. “Looks good. How does it feel?”

“Pretty good. A little weighty, but I’ll get used to it.” I walked over to the kitchen, took a stainless steel water bottle down from a cupboard, and handed it to him. “Can you shove this in an outside pocket?”

He set my suitcase down and tucked the bottle into a side pocket. “Perfect fit.”

I turned around to face him and held out my arms. “Well? How do I look?”

“Perfect,” he said with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Ready to go.”

I had to admit I actually felt sort of excited and exhilarated tossing my backpack into the back of Oliver’s SUV and hopping into the front seat. I didn’t know exactly where we were headed, but it was a gorgeous summer day, I wasn’t at work, and I really did love an adventure. I sometimes hiked with April or with friends, but it had been a long time since I’d done an overnight. I felt free and spontaneous and—yes, I’ll confess—even a little bit grateful to Oliver for making me do this.

It wouldn’t be so bad, would it? He still knew how to push my buttons, but he seemed more mature. More focused on his goals and not just on having a good time. Maybe he was right, and this partnership was going to be a good thing for both of us.

If I could learn to trust him.

As we drove west out of town on Highway 72, windows down, my arm out, warm air rushing over my skin, I tipped my head back and sang along with Stevie Wonder on satellite radio.

Oliver laughed. “I forgot how terrible your singing voice is.”

I reached over and poked his shoulder. “As I recall, yours isn’t any better.”

“Nope, it is not.” He glanced at me. “Know where we’re going yet?”

“I have an idea.” I bit my lip. “But only because you said island.”

“What’s your idea?”

“North or South Manitou?”

He grinned but kept his eyes on the road. “South. Have you been?”

“Not in years,” I said, sitting up straighter in the passenger seat. “I remember once going with Sylvia and my dad because she was into photography and wanted to take pictures of the lighthouse. I must have been about thirteen then. We hiked the island, but Sylvia’s not really a camper, so we didn’t stay the night. We caught the last ferry home.” I found myself even more excited. “I’ve always wanted to go back, and I never have. Seems silly, when you think about how close it is. I’ve hiked all over the map but haven’t really explored my own state.”

“Well, if all goes as planned today, we’re going to explore the whole island, top to bottom and everything in between.”

“Cool!” I clapped my hands. “I can’t wait! But I have to ask what this trip has to do with business. I can’t imagine what South Manitou Island has to do with distilling.”

His grin grew wider. “That’s where the story comes in.”

“So tell me,” I said.

“All in due time. For now, let’s just relax and enjoy the ride.”

I stuck my tongue out at him, but a minute later I was perfectly happy again—eyes closed, wind in my hair, Motown on the radio, anticipation in my belly.

I was glad I’d come.





After grabbing a quick lunch in Leland, we purchased sandwiches to have for dinner and tucked them into our packs before heading to the Fishtown dock, where Oliver purchased park passes and a camping permit. Then we bought our tickets and boarded the Manitou Island Transit ferry.

I couldn’t stop smiling.

Oliver and I sat up top, and it was so sunny I needed my hat to protect my face. I grabbed my sky blue Cloverleigh cap from my pack, stuck it on my head, and pulled my ponytail through the back. Oliver wore a cap too—it was navy and said CSYC on it, which I assumed was a yacht club he belonged to.

I also rubbed sunscreen onto my arms, legs, chest and face, but Oliver said he’d do it later. He was already tanned at this point in the summer.