Page 53 of Jackson's Redemption
I stepped away to give her space back. “How are you getting to camp?”
“Afraid I was planning on being a third wheel on your date?”
I gave her my wolf smile. “I have no problem with you watching.”
She huffed. “Doogie is taking me.”
“Well then, you enjoy your stay at camp without me. And you break, change or alter my operation while I’m gone, be prepared to face the consequences.”
“Ooooh. I’m so scared of big, bad Ark and his consequences.”
I hated the fact I knew she wasn’t. Fortunately, I was saved from having to double down on my threat by Jenny and Doogie. Doogie marched off toward his truck and Olivia followed him after giving me one final glare.
Then it was just me and Jenny left on the runway.
I held my hand out. “Jenny, nice to finally meet you.”
She looked at my hand then looked at me. “I’m sorry. I don’t…shake. Germs.”
I dropped my hand. “Oh. Sure.”
“You’re Mr. Carter.”
I winced. “Actually, it’s Aikens. All the guys, well, we lied about our last names to protect us from any serious crazies who might have found our ad. I hope you’re not upset.”
She shook her head. “I’m not. Are we going on our date now?”
I blinked. “Don’t you want to rest? I thought I would take you to your cabin, let you settle in, maybe get some sleep.”
“I slept on the plane. And I would rather not wait.”
Hookay. To say that I was getting a definite vibe from her was an understatement. But I chalked it up to nervousness. Heck, I was a little nervous, too, now that she was here.
“Okay, then let’s go.”
We stored her gear—she’d brought her own fishing rod case—in the back seat and twenty minutes later I was pulling into Bud’s.
“I know it’s not much, but it’s all we have up here,” I said as I parked in front of the old clapboard building.
“It’s sufficient.”
Hookay. She got out of the SUV before I could circle around and open the door for her. I guess it didn’t matter since she wouldn’t have let me take her hand to give her a lift out of the car.
Instead, she walked several paces in front of me into Bud’s. Through the bar’s open door, I could see her looking around the interior and I had no idea what she might be thinking. Bud’s probably wasn’t the best place to hang out if you were a germophobe.
She must have found what she was looking for because when I entered, she was already seated at an empty table, her hands folded in her lap.
I sat across from her instead of next to her, sensing she would appreciate the width of the table between us.
“I have to order at the bar,” I explained. “What can I get you?”
“Water.”
“That’s it?”
“I don’t drink alcohol. It doesn’t mix well with my medication. I don’t care for caffeine drinks as they make me jittery. I also find carbonation unsettling. Water is fine.”
“How about something to eat? Bud will have some fresh fish dish. Whatever the locals caught today.”
