hear Jake’s name, but almost immediately caught herself and left the diner.
And now he was requesting to see Casey about a tour? Why her specifically? How did he even know she existed?
“May I?” Casey asked, nodding toward the door.
“By all means,” Amy replied, with a smile that was both approving and encouraging.
Hastily, Casey left the conference room and halted in the hallway. Taking a few deep breaths to calm the sudden nervous jitters battering her stomach, she strove for a professional and detached demeanor. This was business, not personal. The man wanted a tour.
She paused in the waiting room doorway, aware that Rachel was avidly watching from behind her reception desk. Trying to keep her reaction from showing, Casey couldn’t stop her heart from jumping a bit at the sight of Jake Rodgers.
He stood with his back to the door, staring out the large picture window that overlooked the main thoroughfare running the length of Treasure Creek. Tall, wide-shouldered and dressed impeccably in a navy business suit that attractively hugged his physique, he made Casey’s breath catch.
Forcing her immediate reaction back to neutral, she cleared her throat before speaking. “Hello?”
He pivoted, making a stunning picture. The contrast of him in his business suit and the mountains rising in majestic peaks over the old gold-rush town, as his backdrop, somehow seemed right, like he was a man made to conquer the world. He’d been a heartthrob in high school, but now…a heartbreaker for sure.
His face had matured and become impossibly more striking, his jaw firmer, his cheekbones more pronounced. His dark, wavy hair was still thick and…so tempting.
Casey fought the sudden desire to run her fingers through his hair. Deep lines crinkled at the corners of his obsidian-colored eyes when he offered her a smile that knocked the air from her lungs.
He stepped closer and held hand out his hand. “Jake Rodgers. Not sure you remember me, but we went to high school together.”
“I remember,” she murmured. That was an under-statement, if ever there was one. She hadn’t realized how much of an impression he’d left on her.
Slipping her hand into his, she tried not to let the little shivers dancing up her arm go to her head. His hand was warm and smooth, his fingers strong, as they curled around her own. Yet, to her surprise, his hands weren’t sissy hands. Though the short nails were clean, they weren’t buffed by some manicurist, like some of the city men who visited Treasure Creek.
Keep it professional, Donner.
She extracted her hand. “What can I do for you, Mr. Rodgers?”
“Please, call me Jake. Reed Truscott suggested I hire you to take my daughter and me on a wilderness tour.”
“Your daughter?” How had she missed that? Obviously, if she’d listened longer to the town gossips, she’d have known he had a child. “Your wife doesn’t wish to come along?”
“I’m a single parent.”
Her heart gave a squeeze of compassion, to think he was raising a daughter alone. She wondered about his marriage but was too polite to ask such an intimate question. But knowing he was single sent a little spark through her system. She wondered if he dated, or if being a single dad kept him unavailable.
Inwardly, she frowned at the direction her thoughts were taking. Since when had she decided she was ready to date again? Her heart was still smarting from her last attempt. She had no desire to go there again. She refocused her mind back to business. “How old is your daughter?”
“Twelve going on thirty,” he said, with a rueful shake of his head.
She smiled at that assessment. “Did Reed suggest me specifically?”
Jake’s dark eyes held her gaze. “Yes. He said you were one of the best, just like your uncle.”
The mention of her late uncle caused a sharp pang of grief that never seemed to go away to hit her just below the breastbone. Absently, she rubbed the spot. Her uncle had been one of the original minds behind Alaska Treasures. Unfortunately, he never got to see the fruit of his ideas.
He succumbed to pancreatic cancer when Casey and Amelia were high school seniors. By becoming a guide herself, Casey honored her beloved uncle’s memory.
“I’ll have to thank Reed,” Casey murmured, flattered by the recommendation. Yet, a wayward suspicion slithered through her mind. Had Amy set this up because Casey hadn’t had any tours booked? She did not want anyone’s pity.
“So, are you available?” Jake asked, his gaze searching her face. In more ways than she’d care to admit.
“What type of tour are you looking for?”
“Something to get my daughter out into nature, and hopefully give her a better appreciation for Alaska. She’s not too happy that I moved us here from Chicago.”
“Treasure Creek must seem like Nowheresville after the big city, but she’ll come around. Our little part of the world is pretty awesome.”
“But there’s no mall or cool coffee shops,” he stated with a shake of his head. Clearly, he’d heard that refrain from his daughter.
“The Java Joint has great coffee and cushy chairs for hanging out in. As for stores, well, there is The General Store. Carries a bit of everything.” She shrugged. “I’m not too hip on big cities myself, so I can’t really relate.”
“Spoken like a true Alaskan,” he said, with a grin.
“A transplanted Alaskan,” she said, returning his smile.
She’d been born in San Francisco, where she’d lived until her parents died in a car accident. At the tender age of six, Casey and her twin were brought to live in Alaska with their late father’s younger brother.
Casey had vague memories of her parents. The soft touch of her mother’s hand, the melodic lullabies she would sing at night, and the excitement of daddy coming through the door at the end of the day. But mostly, Casey remembered the whizzing cars outside her bedroom window and the salty air of the bay.
She needed to change the subject before the overpowering sense of nostalgia building in her chest took root. She walked over to one of the side tables near the window and picked up a brochure. She flipped it open and held it out to him. “We have day hikes, backpacking trips ranging from two days to a week, water tours down the river, horseback-riding trips—”
He held up his hand. “Probably the backpacking, because Veronica’s never ridden a horse and I don’t do boats.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “No sea legs, huh?”
“None whatsoever. I tried a cruise on Lake Michigan once. Not pretty,” he stated, with a rueful shake of his head.
Casey liked how willing he was to accept his limitations. Not many men would admit to any weakness. “Okay, that narrows it down. How many days?”
He considered a moment. “A week?”
She
