Love In Alaska (The Love In 50 States Series Book 2)

by Gates, Shelby

  We slowed as we approached Whittier and George picked up his handset again, explaining that we'd be going through one of the most unique tunnels in the world. I listened closely as he spoke. It was a one way tunnel that allowed for traffic in only one direction at certain times. It was built that way because the road was designed to accommodate both trains and cars so as to save money and make less of an impact on the land. The road itself was specially constructed so both trains and cars could travel on it. We entered through a small A-framed chalet in the side of the mountain and the daylight disappeared. It was, indeed, a one lane tunnel, lit by manmade lighting. I watched as the lights whizzed by in a blur, the walls close enough to touch if I'd opened a window and extended my hand. About six minutes later we exited the tunnel, the sun blinding. I turned back to look at the tunnel and I wondered if I would see anything cooler during my time in Alaska.

  A few minutes later, George pulled up to a marina that was literally on the side of a cliff, a massive mountain on the other side of the narrow body of water. He assured us he'd be waiting for us when we returned and promised we'd have a great time.

  I checked in inside the marina and a friendly young girl pointed me to the boarding area for the boat. It was a two-story enclosed catamaran painted red and white and blue. It had a massive deck at the front and the whole boat looked like it had just been scrubbed clean. I lined up with the other passengers and crossed the small bridge from the marina to the boat. There were mostly older couples, retirees taking advantage of the early fall season, and I felt a little out of place.

  Another girl was waiting at the end of the bridge, smiling at each of us as we stepped on to the boat. “There's lots of seating inside,” she said. Her braces glinted in the sunlight. “And both outdoor decks are open today.”

  The interior cabin was lined with comfy booths, each one next to a large window that allowed for unfettered views of the outside. I wandered through the back and then climbed the narrow set of stairs to the upper deck. I found a chair near a railing and sat down, settling my backpack next to my feet. I slipped my sunglasses back over my eyes and took a deep breath, the crisp, cool air filling my lungs.

  I didn't know what to expect from the cruise or for the remainder of my week in Alaska. I didn't know how much I should worry about what the guy on the plane had said or Paige's own voiced warnings.

  But I knew one thing.

  I was in Alaska.

  I was going to experience it.

  THREE

  The guy with the beard wouldn't stop looking at me.

  We'd been out on the water for almost an hour and the views were astounding. The water of Prince William Sound was like glass, the mountains mirrored in the sound. Sea otters dipped and dived playfully as we cruised past and seals slipped beneath the water, not as friendly or inquisitive as their furry compatriots. We spied whales, too, some of them breaching in the distance, and the captain was headed toward them.

  But I was having a hard time focusing on the wildlife or the glaciers that surrounded the bay. Because this guy kept looking at me.

  I was deleting a blurry picture of an otter when I first noticed him. He was nice enough looking, with wavy brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He wore mirrored aviator glasses, a navy blue long sleeve T-shirt and cargo pants. Weathered hiking boots and a windbreaker tied around his waist indicated he was probably more local than me.

  I would have let my gaze linger a little longer if I hadn't noticed the striking woman standing next to him. Her eyes were ice blue, her blond hair pulled back into a perfect French braid. She wore yoga pants and a fitted pullover and, based on her figure, I was pretty sure she spent most of her waking hours in the gym. She was watching the water and the man turned to me, giving me a half-smile.

  I didn't return it.

  What kind of creep smiled at me when he was with another woman?

  One I didn't want to even acknowledge.

  I'd eventually moved down to one of the lower decks to get a better view of the otters and they had, too. They were talking and laughing and at one point, she gave him a small hip check and waved her finger at him. He laughed again, then glanced my way, not in any way intending to hide that he was looking at me.

  I stared back this time from behind my own sunglasses and frowned at him.

  He gave me a half-wave.

  I shook my head and went back to the upper deck.

  I sat for awhile, watching the whales pop to the surface every so often and marveling at the size of the massive glaciers. It was like National Geographic come to life. I couldn't believe I'd waited so long to see these things, settling for magazine pictures and Internet images. Nearly every other passenger onboard had come equipped with a heavy-duty camera strapped around their neck, but I'd decided not to lug one around the country with me so I was stuck firing away with my phone. I hoped I had enough memory available to capture and record all the things I never wanted to forget. I asked an older couple to take my picture with one of the glaciers behind me and looking at the photo was like an out of body experience.

  We'd hit the halfway point and were headed back to Whittier when my stomach growled. I'd eaten the lunch provided—beer-battered cod and homemade cole slaw—but needed a little something to tide me over on the way back. I passed the saloon, where couples were sipping Alaskan brews and plastic wineglasses filled with merlot, and headed to the snack bar. Two elderly women ahead of me were trying to figure out which candy bars they wanted.

  “Lunch didn't fill me up, either,” a voice said behind me.

  I turned and Bearded Guy was smiling at me, his sunglasses pushed on top of his head, revealing very similar eyes to those of his girlfriend.

  “Yeah,” I said unenthusiastically. I turned back around.

  The ladies bought their candy – a Baby Ruth and a Butterfinger – and took their time stowing their change back in their coin purses. They finally stepped away from the counter and I ordered a Diet Coke and a bag of trail mix.

  “I can't stand raisins,” the guy behind me said. “They should offer a raisin-free trail mix.”

  I didn't say anything, just paid the guy behind the bar and took my soda and food to an empty booth at the back of the cabin. I slid into the vinyl seat, set my bag and sunglasses down and popped the top on the soda.

  “You mind if I sit with you?” the same voice said again from behind me.

  I glared up at him. “Actually, I would. So, no thanks.”

  “I don't bite.”

  His smile was disarming but I tried not to notice. “Good for you.”

  He sat down across from me and set his two sodas down on the table, his smile widening. There was a tiny jagged scar beneath his left eye. “I can only stay a minute.”

  “I didn't ask you to stay,” I said, completely annoyed. “And I'm sure your girlfriend is waiting for her soda.”

  He chuckled. “My sister is impatient and, yes, most likely, waiting for her soda.”

  My expression must have registered my shock because his chuckle turned to a laugh. Blood rushed to my face and I cast my eyes downward. I should have known. He might not have been blond like his sister but they had the same stunning blue eyes, the same fit physique.

  “And she absolutely does bite,” he said. His laugh subsided but the smile remained on his face. “Definitely need to stay away from her.”

  It was my turn to chuckle. “Thanks for the warning.”

  He nodded. “She'll be gone tomorrow, though, so maybe just avoid her this afternoon and you'll be good.”

  I smiled. “Duly noted.”

  He held his hand out across the table. “I'm Evan.”

  I took it in mine. His palm was rough and callused, like he climbed trees for a living or something. “Jess.”

  “You aren't from around here, Jess.” He said this as a statement, not a question, and I wondered if I really was that easy to peg as a tourist.

  “How'd you guess?”

  “I'm pretty sure no one o
n this boat is from around here,” he said, his eyes flitting around the room before settling back on me. “But you're a little too tan and your boots are brand new. Probably bought just for this trip.” He smiled again and I noticed one of his front teeth was just slightly turned to the left. “It's what gives my sister away, too. She's from Florida.”

  “I'm from Vermont, actually.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “People tan in Vermont?”

  “Well, the sun does shine there most months. And it sometimes even manages to put out enough heat for people to tan,” I added dryly.

  He pressed his lips together, hiding a sheepish smile. “Sorry. It's sort of the same reaction we usually get up here.”

  I took a sip of my soda. “Well, I did just finish a week-long trip to the beach,” I admitted.

  “And now you're here?” he asked. “Wow. Culture shock.”

  “Yeah, but I like it.”

  He laced his hands together and propped his elbows on the table. “So you're just visiting?” he asked. “Alone or do you have family nearby?”

  “Nope,” I said. He was staring at me intently and I had to resist the urge to run my hand through my windblown hair. I hoped it wasn't as much of a wreck as I thought it might be. “I'm here for a week, playing the proverbial tourist, doing touristy things. And apparently failing at blending in.”

  He laughed and laid his hands flat on the table, leaning back in the booth. “The only folks who blend in around here are the ones that live here. You aren't the only one.”

  “So I take it you live here?”

  “How'd you guess?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  I glanced toward the floor. “Your shoes are filthy.”

  “You noticed?”

  “When I thought you were a weasel for looking at me while you were on a date, yes.”

  His mouth twisted into a grin. “Fair enough.”

  We sat there for a moment, not speaking. The silence wasn't awkward or uncomfortable and I felt myself relax. Evan had nice hands. An even nicer smile. And unfuckingbelievable eyes.

  “Your sister is probably really pissed right now,” I said, breaking the silence and pointing at the soda.

  “Eh, she can wait another minute,” he said dismissively. “Where are you headed after this? What are you going to see?”

  I shrugged. “I don't really know yet. I'm staying in Anchorage.” He wrinkled his nose and I quickly added, “But a guy on the plane suggested I get out of the city if I really wanted to see the state. That's why I did this.”

  He nodded in agreement. “He's right. Anchorage is cool, but there's a lot more to Alaska. About seven hundred thousand square miles more to see.”

  “Okay,” I said, reaching into the bag of trail mix and pulling out a handful. “Give me a recommendation.”

  He half-stood and dug into his pocket. He slid a small white business card across the table and I picked it up. “ETA Piloting Services” was embossed in the middle with the name “Evan Anderson” and a phone number in the bottom left corner.

  “Piloting?” I asked, holding up the card. “Like a tour guide?”

  He shook his head. “Like a bush pilot.”

  “What's that?”

  “It's basically a fancy term for a guy who flies a small plane into really remote, kind of crappy areas,” he said, grinning. “Pretty areas, but crappy because the terrain isn't terribly friendly to planes. I'm really just a delivery guy in a plane. A sort of independent UPS guy. With a personal plane, not a truck

  “Wow,” I said. “That sounds...interesting. And kind of cool.”

  “It is,” he said, nodding. “So I could give you lots of recommendations.”

  “Okay.”

  “But I'm just going to give you one.”

  “Only one? That seems kind of unfair.”

  “More selfish than unfair.” He smiled. “My one recommendation is that you let me take you up to see some of the backcountry.”

  I laid the card down on the table. “Really?”

  “Yeah,” he said. He drummed his fingers on the table. “My sister's been with me for the last two weeks and I've gotten used to the company. I'm dropping her off tonight and I have to fly out in the morning. I can offer you a heavily duct-taped co-pilot seat, a nifty pair of headphones and free passage to just about anywhere in the state.” He hesitated for a minute. “Though I guess it's not totally free. You'll have to help me load and unload the plane.”

  “That's a nice offer,” I said. But Paige's words came rushing back to me.

  “My sister will vouch for me,” he said, holding a hand up like a Boy Scout. “I'm a decent guy. I shower regularly, I hold doors open for people I don't know and I always laugh at bad jokes.”

  “I don't know...”

  “I get it,” he said, nodding. “There are a lot of half-cracked people these days. We just met a few minutes ago and you've spent the better part of this cruise thinking I was some asshole boyfriend checking out other women while on a date.”

  I hesitated. A pretty good offer was staring me in the face. A good-looking pilot offering to fly me all around the state for free in his personal plane? I wasn't going to beat that. But those nagging seeds of doubt had crept in. Like he'd pointed out, I'd only known him for all of fifteen minutes. He seemed like a good guy – very nice, charming in a self-deprecating sort of way. And he was definitely attractive. But I didn't know him.

  You didn't know Adam, either, I reminded myself. And you're only getting one week in each state.

  I needed to focus on why I was on this trip to begin with. To experience sex, yes, but also to see the country. Sleeping with him wasn't a guarantee – nor did I know if I wanted it to be – but seeing Alaska if I went out with him? That was a sure thing.

  “Tell me again what I'd have to do,” I said. “If I go.”

  “Just help load and unload stuff,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling. “I won't hand you the controls. Promise.”

  I pressed my lips together and made my decision. “I could probably manage that,” I told him. “That seems like a tough deal to pass up.”

  “I'd like to think so,” he said, smiling at me. “It's not every day you get to pretend to be a delivery man. Just ask my sister.”

  “Speaking of your sister, you better get her soda to her.”

  He stared at me for a moment with those amazing blue eyes of his. “So is that a yes? You'll go?

  “One question,” I said. My hand was in the bag of trail mix and I picked up a handful, sifting the pieces between my fingers. “How many times have you done this?”

  He slid out of the booth and stood, picking the cans of soda up. “Done what?”

  “Picked up a tourist and taken her out on your plane to see the state?”

  He set the sodas down and his face took on a sobering look. “You want me to be honest, right?”

  A twinge of disappointment stung me. “Yeah.”

  He thought hard for a moment, his lips pursed together as he stared out the window of the boat. He looked down at his hands, counting off his fingers silently. His eyes came back to mine.

  Then he smiled. “One.”

  One more than me. I swallowed, thinking his answer wasn't as bad as I'd thought it would be.

  “I should clarify,” he continued, a smile spreading across his face. “One time means this time. Because you're the first.”

  FOUR

  The alarm chimed on my phone and I forced my eyes open, then shut them again.

  Mornings were brutal in Alaska.

  I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and punched off the alarm that was telling me it was six in the morning. Time to get up. I had an hour until Evan would be there.

  I laid there for a few minutes, letting the fog clear from my head. By the time I'd gotten back from the boat cruise the previous day, I'd grabbed dinner from a local diner, brought it back to my room and, polishing off the burger, had managed to muster enough energy to pack for my outing with Evan before
promptly passing out.

  I was still a little surprised that I'd said yes. It was completely different than agreeing to a date with Adam. With him, we could have walked to the restaurant we'd gone to. Our date could have ended at any time, simply by me deciding I'd had enough and getting up from the table. I'd been in control...or at least there had been the illusion of control.

  But Evan? I was getting on a plane and flying somewhere with him. Probably somewhere remote. The only way I'd be coming back to Anchorage and my hotel room was if he brought me—and when he brought me.

  My stomach twisted a little and, on impulse, I reached for my phone again. I needed a cheerleader.

  “Jess?” Mimi's warm, friendly voice filled me with homesickness. “How's Alaska?”

  “Beautiful,” I told her. I gave her a quick rundown on the boat cruise.

  “That sounds amazing,” she said. I could hear a twinge of envy in her voice. “Better than my day yesterday.” I waited for her to elaborate. “I cleaned up vomit. All day long. Some stupid stomach bug I'm hoping doesn't find me.”

  I made a face. “I'm sorry.”

  “Me, too,” she said, chuckling.

  There was a pause in our conversation and I knew she was waiting for me to tell her why I was calling. I'd already checked in with Paige; they knew I'd made it safely to my destination.

  “So I have this opportunity,” I began. “To go on a mini-trip here.”

  “Okay,” she said. “And...?”

  “It's with a guy,” I said. “A guy I just met.”

  “So what's wrong with that?”

  “We'd be going in his plane,” I told her. “His private plane. Just me and him. Overnight.”

  There was another pause. “Where did you meet him?”

  I told her about the cruise and everything I knew about Evan which, admittedly, wasn't much.

  “Okay,” she said again.

  “Is it?” I asked, sitting up in bed. “Is it okay that I'm leaving in forty-five minutes to get on a plane with a guy I barely know? To go into the wilds of Alaska? Or am I insane? You can tell me, Mimi. Be honest.”