Page 33 of Reckless

“Five thirty. Are you okay to finish up?”

“Uh, sure. Why?”

“I booked us a table for six.”

Her brows lift. “We need to get on the road soon.”

“I know. I got it all figured out. It won’t set us back too much and you deserve a good meal. Let me treat you.”

“You don’t have to buy me dinner, Jude.”

“I’m buying us dinner, Krista. Go get changed. It’s a nice place so you can leave the hiking boots here,” I wink.

She doesn’t rise to the joke. “Will you be alright going to a restaurant?”

“I’ve got us a private booth.”

Her eyes narrow again, but she nods. We both took showers after our trip to Mount Rushmore, so it doesn’t take too long to get ready. I’m surprised when she comes out wearing a dress and heeled sandals, which elevates her height. The dress is modest, knee length with capped sleeves, but it’s a bright turquoise blue that highlights her hair.

“You look beautiful,” I tell her.

“Shush,” she waves a hand, eyeing me up and down.

I don’t have smart wear with me. Only what I brought to Bill’s party and the few items I bought on our first day together. Luckily, there is a washer and dryer on board, so my black jeans are clean, and I’ve paired it with a button up, short-sleeve shirt I bought. It’s flannel, but it’s dark, so doesn’t look too mountain man chic.

The restaurant is nearby, so we walk. It feels wrong wearing the hat, but needs must. At the restaurant, I give in the fake name, making Krista smirk, and we’re led to the back. The booth isn’t all that private, to be honest, but I make sure I’m sitting with my back to the rest of the room as best I can.

Once we’ve ordered, I chance taking off the hat.

Krista looks up at me, then around the room. She smiles when she looks back. “I think we’ll be okay.”

“Today was fun,” I say, lifting the beer the server dropped off, assuring us our food would be along soon.

“You really got into the tourist thing,” she laughs.

“Hey, I don’t get to do it often, when in Rome.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” She touches her cutlery, moves it around and puts it back again. “Is it helping any?”

I lean back in the booth, tapping my fingers on the edge of the table. “For the first time in ages, I’ve been able to relax and just be me. Last week, I couldn’t have done this,” I point around the restaurant.

Then I frown. Krista hasn’t brought it up and I’ve not mentioned it, so I’m not sure if she’s seen the news. I’ve tried not to keep up with it, switching off my news notifications, but I checked a couple of times.

“The press is reporting I’m missing.”

“What?”

“I guess someone let it slip I disappeared from Bill’s party. No one from the label has commented on the story.”

“Am I at risk of being arrested for kidnapping?” she grins.

“Possibly. And I’ll tell the cops I got Stockholm syndrome and don’t want to be rescued.”

“I do pride myself on doing everything to the best of my ability.”

I chuckle and pick up my beer again.

“Seriously though, is it going to be a problem? Should we be out here like this?” she asks.

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