“You might starve if I stay there asking you a million questions,” she told him as she returned to the other table.
Part of him wanted to insist she join him again and ask any questions she might have. But he refrained. If he didn’t finish his now-cold meal, Glady would be wondering if her cooking that afternoon wasn’t up to par. Besides, he needed a bit of space to let his head clear. To process how it was he’d gotten so distracted from the reason he’d come to town in the first place.
“If it’s not raining tomorrow morning,” Gage told her as he picked up his fork, “and if your flight doesn’t go out early in the day, I’d be happy to take you to a couple of picturesque river spots on the island. That is, if you’re interested.”
“There’s no ‘if’ about it,” she replied, her eyes alight with excitement. “I would love that.”
You would have thought he’d just given her a rainbow, complete with a pot of gold beneath, from the way Aurora’s face lit up. Her reaction made him feel like the superhero Glady had tried to make him out to be. Almost ridiculously so. And he kind of liked it.
CHAPTER THREE
“Here she is,” Gage announced with a smile as they started toward his pride and joy. The floatplane was secured to the dock a good ten or so feet ahead of them.
Aurora lifted the overhang of the duck hood to get a better look. “It’s bigger than I expected,” she noted as she eyed the long floats on either side, which were bobbing gently in the water next to the dock it had been secured to.
“It being a ten-seater makes for far fewer trips when transporting guests to and from Conley Island.”
“It’s really pretty.”
He knew she was referring to the strip of snowcapped mountains with a bald eagle soaring majestically above. “My brother dabbles in artistic painting in his spare time. Mostly to my plane and the retreat’s two fishing boats. But you might catch him on occasion painting on an actual canvas.”
“Well, he’s very good at it,” she admitted. “He and Emmy would get along great.”
“Emmy?”
Her gaze shifted to the tall, very attractive pilot walking next to her. “My best friend. She makes a living as an artist and recently opened her own art gallery in Seattle.”
“Sounds like they would have a few things in common,” he agreed. “So you’re here for river pictures, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you might be able to grab a few shots from the plane if you keep your eyes peeled.”
“That would be wonderful!”
“Let’s get you onboard. You’re welcome to sit up front next to me during the flight. Or, if you’re not comfortable getting an up close and personal view of Alaska from the air, you can take one of the backseats and close your eyes.”
“The front works for me,” she said, looking forward to the unplanned flight.
“Then the front it is,” he replied with a nod. “I’ll have you board via the rear passenger entry door. It’s a more accessible opening with wider steps. Once onboard, you can make your way up to the front passenger seat.”
She smiled up at him. “Sounds like a plan.”
“I’ll load your bags first,” he began as he moved to take the handle of her wheeled carry-on from her grasp. “They’ll be safe in my plane.”
“Be careful. The zipper is broken,” she warned.
Aurora had insisted on pulling it to the plane on her own. Now he understood why. The zipper around the top of the carry-on had pulled apart, wide enough that several pieces of clothing were protruding through the opening and were clearly wet. And the rain had, no doubt, soaked down into the clothes inside the bag.
“You should have said something. I would have carried it instead of you wheeling it up and down over sidewalks and across the road and risking that zipper giving way altogether.”
“You’re doing enough for me already. The last thing I wanted was to burden you any more than I already am.”
“It’s not a burden if I offered to help you,” he told her. A dark brow lifted as his gaze zeroed in on the broken zipper. “Now I know why you opted not to change into something dry before we left the diner. Everything in that bag is probably at least a little bit wet.”
“That would be my guess too,” she said with a frown as she stared down at her wheeled carry-on.
“Would you like to make a stop in town and pick up something dry to change into before we fly out? I’d offer to give you a dry sweatshirt from my family’s minuscule gift shop, but I wouldn’t want you catching a chill on the way there.”
