* * *Drips & Sips is busy when I walk through the door the next afternoon. I hoped to snatch Aspen away a little early, talk Gretchen into closing for her, but what I find instead is a full café, and Aspen working by herself.
“Hey there,” she says when she sees me approach the counter. I love that she doesn’t call me Your Highness. She’s casual with me. It’s a breath of fresh air and just one more thing I enjoy about her. “What can I get for you?”
“I was actually hoping I could steal you away,” I reply.
Aspen shakes her head. “Sorry, I can’t leave. Gretchen has the day off, and my other helper, Kelli, called out sick. I’ve been running around like crazy this afternoon.”
I immediately turn to David, who’s never more than six feet away. “I’m going to help her. The picnic is postponed.”
“You’re going to help her?” he asks.
“Indeed, I am. And you might, as well.” I turn back to Aspen. “What do you need us to do?”
“Excuse me?”
“We’re at your disposal. What do you need?”
She blows out a breath and checks the time. “Well, we close in thirty minutes. I still have a full dining room. As people leave, I need their tables sanitized, and—”
I walk behind the counter and retrieve the rag she keeps in the bucket, wring it out, and pass it to David.
“We can do that. What else?”
She stares at me like I’ve gone mad. And maybe I have.
“You don’t have to do this. I’m fine. It’s not the first time I’ve run this show by myself, and it won’t be the last.”
“But you don’t have to,” I reply and drag my knuckles down her cheek. “And I admit, I have ulterior motives. I’d like to spend some time with you today. So, just tell me how to help you.”
She sighs, and then with a chuckle and a shrug, says, “Okay. Thank you. First…”
Over the next half hour, David and I clear tables, wipe and sanitize, and stock supplies while Aspen cleans her coffee machine. When the last patron leaves, David locks the door and grins at us.
“I have to admit, this was different for us. And most likely against protocol. But it was fun.”
“Most people didn’t even give us a second glance,” I say as I watch Aspen.
“It helps that you dress casually and blend in,” Aspen says, glancing our way. “Now, if you were in suits, and if David was packing an AK-47, you’d get some looks.”
“I only pack the AK-47 on Tuesdays,” David says with a wink. “I’ll be right over here when you’re ready to go.”
He walks over to the far corner of the shop to look out the window and give Aspen and me some privacy.
One of the reasons I love having David on my detail is his discretion.
“I have a plan,” I begin and watch as Aspen raises a brow. “I’d like to take you somewhere special for dinner.”
She glances down at her jeans and T-shirt, both a bit of a mess after working all day.
“I’m not dressed for that.”
“Actually, for what I have in mind, you’re absolutely perfect. Besides, you’re gorgeous in anything you wear.”
“You’re quite charming, aren’t you?” she asks.
“Not at all, I’m just being honest. Come with me to a special place for dinner.”
She chews her lip but then nods. “You’ve talked me into it.”
“Brilliant.”* * *“Okay, I admit,” she says as I lead her down a path toward the river. I can hear the water flowing just past the trees and bushes ahead. “I didn’t expect you to bring me up to Glacier National Park for dinner.”
“I wouldn’t think so,” I say with a wink. “Where is that blasted picnic table?”
“It’s right over here,” she says, pointing to the right.
“You’ve been here?”
“Of course.” Her eyes are full of mischief as she smiles at me. “I come up here about once a week when the weather allows, which is only about four months out of the year.”
I want to sigh in defeat, but I just nod and follow her to the picnic table Sebastian told me about. I set our basket on top and take a moment to breathe in the fresh air and look at the beautiful river flowing not ten feet from us.
“Do you have anything this beautiful in Europe?” Aspen asks as she takes a seat at the table and watches the water lazily rushing by.
“Well, yes,” I reply. “But it’s different. Montana is special; I’ll give you that.”
“It really is,” she says. “What kind of food did you bring? I’m starving.”
“Let’s have a look, shall we?”
“Do you mean you didn’t pack this yourself?” She feigns shock and then giggles. “So, I should give Alice a kiss of gratitude for our meal?”
I narrow my eyes and open the basket, finding a traditional American picnic inside: fried chicken, potato salad, and way more fruit than two people could possibly eat.