For a split second, Darren looked like he’d jumped in before measuring the depth of a cold lake.
He was handsome, sure, but he had nothing to fear from her. She was safe, too.
* * *
Darren couldn’t believe he’d just asked this woman out. Maybe not in the conventional sense, but offering to show her what lay off the beaten path might as well have been a date. His grandmother called it courting. He nearly laughed at the thought. He wasn’t the get dressed up and bring flowers kind of guy like his grandmother’s description of the ideal date. Darren didn’t dress up for anyone. Still, Bree surprised him by agreeing to go. He couldn’t exactly backpedal his way out of this one without looking like an idiot.
“Where will you take her first?” Stella asked innocently enough, but there was a determined gleam in her eye. She was barking up the wrong tree if she thought to play matchmaker. Hadn’t Stella heard? Bree would be gone in a month’s time. Gone for two years.
“Not sure.” He stalled, and then it dawned on him. “I’m going smelt dipping Friday night with friends. You could come with me.”
“What’s smelt dipping?” Bree’s pretty brow furrowed. Everything about her was pretty. Even the measured way she ate her food was pretty, making sure her pasta was well covered in sauce before taking a bite. She didn’t hurry. Refined and polite, she ate slowly.
What would she think about the robust way his family wolfed down a meal? Growing up with six brothers and three sisters, all younger but one, he’d learned to grab food quickly—shovel it in and then go back for seconds before the food was wiped out. Not that Bree would ever meet his family, much less have dinner with them.
Chances were good that if Bree went smelt dipping, she wouldn’t like it. Then she might not want to go anywhere else. He’d fulfill his sightseeing offer and that’d be the end of it.
He leaned back in his chair, finished with his dinner. “Smelt are small fish we catch at night with nets. They run into rivers this time of year to spawn.”
Bree wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never fished before.”
Genius! He really was a genius at times. He could tell by the pinched look on her face that she wouldn’t like it. “It’s not real fishing. Not like with a pole, but it’s still a good time.”
“Hmm. When?”
“We’re meeting at the river’s edge at nine o’clock, Friday night.” He waited for Bree to pass on this opportunity. From her expression, he knew she wasn’t interested.
“I’ll give it a try.”
That answer threw him. She must be serious about trying new things. Only Darren didn’t want to be one of those new things. It wasn’t as though Bree flirted. Every time he’d looked at her, she’d looked away. And she wasn’t shy. Bree had talked her fair share over dinner.
“So, where is this river?”
He glanced at Stella, and it dawned on him that it’d waste time for him to backtrack into town to pick up Bree. He didn’t want her getting lost on the way, either, driving by herself. “It’s north, nearly to Mackinaw City. We could meet somewhere in between.”
Stella paused in sopping up the last of her marsala sauce with a crust of bread. “Why don’t you two meet at your house? It’s not hard to find and on the way.”
Stella had been to his house with Raleigh only once, and yet she remembered the location. Her suggestion made sense, but something about Bree in his home made him squirm.
Bree didn’t appear bothered by any of it. She waited for him to respond like it didn’t matter to her one way or another. Bree was moving away in a month. Far away, too. Of course it didn’t matter where she met him. She wasn’t interested in him. He was crazy to think she’d be interested in hanging out with him for some temporary connection before leaving.
“Do you have a piece of paper?” he finally asked.
Stella jumped up and grabbed a notepad and pen, handing it over with a victorious grin.
Darren looked at Bree. She’d finished the last of her salad and then drained her water glass. When she wiped her full-lipped mouth with a napkin, he swallowed hard. A lot could happen in a month.
He concentrated on the paper. “I’ll draw you a map. I’m right off the main road, but back in the woods a few miles.”
“Okay.” Bree tipped her head and watched him. She listened close as he explained when and where to look for his turn off.
He handed her the paper. “My cell is listed there, too.”
“Looks easy enough. Thanks.” Bree reached across and took the pen, then scribbled a number down and ripped it off. “Here’s my number, just in case something comes up between now and then.”
Darren pocketed the note and stood with plate in hand. “Stel, I’m going to take off.”
“Thanks for fixing my faucet.” Stella took the plate from him. “And you don’t need to clean up, I got it.”
“Thanks for dinner.” Then he faced Bree. “See you Friday.”
“Friday. I’ll meet you at your place by eight-fifteen.” She sounded so professional, like they’d scheduled a business meeting. Not a date.
“Sounds good.” Ignoring the twist in his gut, Darren justified showing Bree around as an extension of his job.
A good word from Bree or her mom into the right ears might go a long way in upping his chances for the supervisor position. He’d take all the help he could to make sure he got the job this time.
He’d simply showcase the great up north outdoors and be done with it. When Bree left, he’d be done with her, too.
By Friday night, the weather had turned chilly, so Bree dressed in warm layers. Who knew how long they’d be outside? Her parents thought she was crazy to venture out so late. Maybe they were right.
Following the map Darren had drawn was easy. She’d driven on the one main road heading north most of the way. Slowing down, she spotted the Honey for Sale sign right where he’d said it would be. Bree took the next right onto a dirt road. So far, so good.
Scanning the map again, she went another two miles until she saw the fish mailbox. This was Darren’s driveway. It was a dirt two-track path similar to the ones they’d taken to find mushrooms. She slowed to a stop and stared at that mailbox.
What was she doing coming here?
With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and pulled into the two-mile drive. No regrets. No missed opportunities.
Her cell phone buzzed with an incoming text. She slowed to a stop and grabbed it, hoping it wasn’t Darren changing their plans. Another text from Philip that she ignored.
Darren hadn’t been kidding when he said he lived in the woods. She’d watched the sun dip low in the sky as she drove here, but the surrounding trees with new leaves blocked the dwindling light.
When she finally pulled into a large clearing, the wood home surprised her. She’d expected something far less airy than the chalet-style structure in front of her. Darren’s home was small but pretty with a wraparound deck that was partly covered and sat atop a two-bay garage. Another metal garage stood nearby.
She smiled when she saw him outside with two small beagles. Both were brown and white with black backs, floppy ears and sweet faces. Darren hunched down to give them each a pat and scratch behind their ears. Tails wagging, they followed him around a fenced area begging for attention. He gave in and petted them some more.
Stella had assured