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He flips a switch on the cockpit panel. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t.”
He shakes his head. “You’re such a Fletcher.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means just come out and ask me what you really want to know, Calla.” He sounds annoyed.
“Fine. Did you two ever date?”
“Nope.”
I hesitate. “Did you two hook up?”
“Define ‘hook up.’ ”
“I guess that answers that,” I mutter, more to myself, letting my gaze drift to the mountain ridge.
“She kissed me once.”
“And . . .”
“I can’t give her what she wants. I’m not at that place in my life.” He doesn’t seem at all bothered to be telling me.
“She’s really pretty,” I hazard.
“And smart, and caring. But I just want to be friends with her. She knows it. I’ve been clear all along.”
I can’t suppress my sigh of relief fast enough.
“I take it that’s the answer you wanted to hear?”
I turn away to hide my sheepish smile. He’s too damn observant. And blunt. And inherently decent, if he hasn’t taken advantage of the tall, blond, leggy veterinarian’s attraction to him, at least once, in a moment of male weakness.
“What else do you want to ask me?” he murmurs.
I hesitate for only a second. What’s the point of stopping now? “Why did you kiss me today?”
“Because I wanted to, and I knew you wanted me to.” Such a simple, straightforward answer. Exactly what I’ve come to expect from Jonah. He pauses. “Am I wrong?”
“No.” Unfortunately there are too many obstacles trailing it that I’m struggling to ignore. “Don’t you think it’s a bit risky? I mean, that it might complicate things, with everything else going on? Plus, I’m leaving in . . .” My voice drifts as realization dawns.
I’m leaving in a week. It’ll be a nice, clean, uncomplicated end to whatever is happening between us.
A soft “Oh . . . right,” slips from my lips. “Of course.” That’s exactly what he wants. And here I am, reading way too much into one kiss, especially from a guy I despised a week ago. This is why I don’t do hookups.
“Of course, what?”
An orange bush plane suddenly appears in the sky, traveling toward us. It grabs Jonah’s attention and splices our conversation. A moment later, the radio is crackling with a call-out from him, delivering an ominous warning about hellish headwinds and torrential rain around the ridge bend that he barely outran.
I feel my face fill with worry. “Are we turning around?”
“Can’t. We’re here, anyway.” The right wing tips and we begin to descend.
Chapter 21
“This is definitely the right place?” I mutter, huddled within my slicker, my head bowed as I trail Jonah along a narrow footpath that cuts through the forest of spruce trees and leggy ground cover. It’s a trek from where we left the plane. My jaw is sore from clenching my teeth so tight with that bumpy landing, and my leggings are soaked from rain that’s coming down more sideways than straight.
