Page 8 of Jaded Alpha

“Then come with me.” She stepped back and waved me out of my seat then turned. “Right this way.” A few rows back, there was a door marked exit, and the flight attendant, Joanna, explained my responsibilities sitting there. Nothing too hard, and the extra inches of leg room made me very happy. “The seat in front of you does not recline,” she said with a wink.

I just hoped I would not have to use my “able and willing” status to help in an emergency because it seemed to me that a plane emergency could be pretty bad. But the only thing that happened was an hour delay before taking off. Thank all the gods I was not stuck in that other row. I might have gone postal or at the very least gotten a blood clot from inability to move my legs.

At the other end of the flight, I moved forward with other cattle, trying to remember which overhead bin held my carry-on bag. How did people survive this type of travel at all? They must really need or want to get where they were going. Again, my thoughts went to the fans who traveled to see the band. We always gave them a good show, but I was determined to do better in the future. They deserved the very best we could do.

The car service, at least, was on-site and provided a comfortable town car, but the driver was very chatty and proud of the area. I’d thought maybe I could take a nap on the way, but that was not happening. For a number of reasons.

Chapter Eight

Jamie

“No, it’s not. You have another hour’s drive.”

My shoulders and heart dropped. My drive hadn’t been long, but I was more than ready to settle into somewhere with a floor and four walls. “Oh, okay. My GPS must’ve taken me to the wrong place.”

I ducked back into the driver’s seat when the older man at the door began to chuckle. “Jamie, I’m only kidding. Of course this is the Bearclaw Inn. Welcome, welcome.”

Pushing out a relieved breath, I chuckled. At least he had a sense of humor.

Wait, was this someone I was supposed to mate with or the owner?

I had nothing against age gap, but my wolf wasn’t thinking this man was anything other than a friend.

“You’re Franklin, I presume?”

He nodded, still laughing. “I am. Come on in. Bring your bags. Forgive me. Today has been such a good day.”

“Nothing to forgive. I had a great trip as well.”

Franklin led me inside. “That’s good. Shall I show you to your room? You arrived earlier than I thought you would. Are you much of a chef? I could use the help in the kitchen.”

“I’d love to help you cook, but I need a minute to freshen up first, if that’s all right?”

Franklin smiled, deepening the lines around his mouth and the tinier wrinkles at the corners of his blue eyes. “No problem at all. I planned quite the feast. Right this way. Up the stairs.”

I paused after the first flight of stairs at the landing overlooked by a stained glass window right out of a fantasy. “Franklin, this is gorgeous.”

He paused and looked over his shoulder. “It is lovely. One of my favorite parts of the house.”

Seth’s research indicated that Franklin was a widow, and so I minded my manners and didn’t ask, no matter how eager I was to know.

“It’s stunning.”

“Up here to your right is your room.”

When we reached the top of the stairs, I saw two doors. One to the right and the other to the left. My stomach did a flop. Was the other person already here? Were they waiting downstairs. I didn’t see any other vehicles in the parking lot, but if they flew here, they would’ve gotten a ride.

“The other guest hasn’t arrived.” Franklin chuckled as he turned the knob.

We walked inside and while I didn’t know what to expect, I didn’t anticipate the room calling me to sleep there forever with a view right out of a painting. A few rolling hills, the perfect sunset.

Damn. I couldn’t imagine the other person having this beautiful an overlook.

Then again, people didn’t really come to stay here for the view.

“I’ll be right down,” I said once he gave me the tour. I had a queen bed and an en suite. The bed was covered with a colorful quilt with more folded on the chest at the foot and tucked onto the seat of the rocking chair.

Too bad this place was invitation only. If it was open for reservations, Franklin would make a killing.

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