He grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Trust me, spitfire. I’ll keep you safe.”
“That’s not the point, Sailor. I can’t row those stupid things!” The last time she’d tried had been during a high school camp, having been forced into the “fun” activity by a teacher who hadn’t understood ísa’s lack of coordination. “I’ll drown and the fish will eat my face.”
“I’ve got you covered.”
“Oh, are you going to magically row my spindly death boat?”
Laughing, he just tugged her down to the rental place, where they showed him to the double kayak he’d already apparently booked.
“You could’ve told me,” she said to the demon by her side.
He chucked her under the chin with a playfulness that made her stomach go all fluttery. “Why?” he said. “It was so much fun having you send me death rays with your eyes.”
“You haven’t seen my death ray eyes yet,” ísa muttered while putting on the lifejacket he gave her. She was glad to see him donning one too. Sailor was strong and athletic, but she’d feel better if they were both protected even though they’d just be paddling about in the relatively sheltered waters of the bay.
Then she saw him placing the tubular duffel into a hatch in back of the kayak after removing a few items. That done, he picked up her tote, added the bottles of juice he’d pulled out from his bag, and put the entire tote into another bag that looked waterproof before placing it in a hatch at the front of the kayak that the person sitting up front could easily access. He neatly sealed up both hatches.
ísa swallowed. “Sailor, how far are we going?” There wasn’t anything out there except the islands of the Hauraki Gulf.
Oh God.
“Please don’t say Rangitoto.” The dormant volcano was a dramatic triangular shape on the horizon—and it was really, really, really far away.
“Okay.” He shot her a grin. “We’re going to Motutapu. It’s just behind Rangitoto.”
“I know where it is.” Even farther away. “In case you missed it, ferries cross that water. Yachts zip across it. No one’s going to notice a toothpick-thin kayak. Those face-eating fish are going to get a good meal out of the two of us.”
Her dark prediction only made Sailor’s grin widen. “Trust me on this, birthday girl. I can take us the whole way, and I know how to dodge or ride the wake from the larger craft.” A grip on her chin, a quick kiss. “Come on, where’s my wild, skinny-dipping ísa?”
“She’s scared of face-eating fish,” ísa muttered but grabbed her floppy hat from the tote and stuffed it on her head. “Will this stay on?” Even slathered in sunscreen, her face would be fried bacon if she went out on the water without a hat. The sunscreen should protect her legs, but she could always throw her towel across them if the skin began to go pink.
Sailor tied up the tote handles for her again. “Wind’s calm, so yeah.” Sliding his hand up her calf and higher, he rose to his feet. “Let’s go celebrate your birthday in style.”
Wanting to do her bit now that she’d agreed to this insanity, ísa helped him lift the kayak. Once it was on the soft white sand, just nudging the water, Sailor made her get into the front seat. “I can control it better from the back,” he told her. “And with our gear pretty balanced, the heavier person should be at the back.”
ísa’s lips parted in an instinctive demurral… when she realized he was heavier. All that muscle on a six-two frame made him deliciously heavy when he was on top in bed. Two days ago, he’d talked her into being on top. And then he’d talked dirty to her until she’d ridden him like he was a thoroughbred.
“Fuck me, ísa. Just like that, baby.”
“You’re so good at this, sweetheart.”
“You have the body of a centerfold.”
Cheeks flushing at the memory of his harsh, sexy words before his back bowed in a shuddering orgasm, she took her seat.
Sailor put her paddle across the front and told her to hold on to the middle.
“Got it,” ísa said just as a small wave crashed over the bow and washed away the erotic echoes from their night together.
ísa tried desperately to reassure herself that this plan wasn’t destined for disaster.
If the kayak flipped, she and Sailor just had to float until someone got to them. And if a fish or three nibbled on her toes, well, apparently that was considered a pedicure in some places. She’d seen it online. So she’d get a free fish-nibble pedicure. Nothing to worry about.
We’re going to die. At least my last will and testament is up to date.
Sailor pushed the kayak forward, deeper into the water, then somehow managed to jump in without causing it to rock wildly before starting to paddle… and she realized she had absolutely no need to worry. He had total control of the kayak, his motions so fluid that she felt like she was on a smooth ride. She wished she could see him, see his biceps flexing, his golden skin gleaming under the sunlight.
They rode gracefully over an incoming wave.
“Shall I try?” she asked hesitantly, her hands tight on the kayak paddle she still held across her front. “I’ll probably mess up your rhythm.”
“Don’t worry so much, baby. This is about having fun,” he said, the affection in the words making her blink her eyes hard against a hot, wet burn. “But wait until I have us past the waves so it’ll be easier.”
That didn’t take him long.
Once they were in calmer waters, he stopped and taught her how to angle her paddle so it cut through the water rather than fighting it. It took her several tries, but she finally got some semblance of a good stroke.
A smile broke out over her face. “This is fun.” No one had ever been so patient with her when she was trying to learn to do something athletic.
“I don’t like to say I told you so, but…”
She laughed at Sailor’s smug tone and carried on. She did have to take frequent breaks as the trip was a three-hour one for someone as strong and experienced as Sailor. With him slowing down so she could paddle too, plus a water and snack break in the middle, it was well past the three-and-a-half-hour mark by the time they hit the choppier waters near the island.
* * *
CONTENT IN A WAY HE hadn’t been in a long time, his demons unable to fight the happiness in his veins, Sailor watched ísa dig in her paddle ahead of him. She was off-rhythm but determined and probably had a burned nose by now, though she’d slathered on more sunscreen midway through their journey.
If he’d been facing her, he’d have kissed her silly.
She’d probably have pushed him back with a stern warning about face-eating fish.
Grinning, he said, “Time for you to rest, spitfire. I need to take over now to get us past the more tricky sections.”
“Okay,” ísa said and carefully put her paddle in front of her so it wouldn’t be in his way.
Sailor dug in, powering them toward the beach at Motutapu where he intended for them to land. He saw a couple of yachts moored nearby, but there was no one else on the beach itself. It was a hard one to get to if you weren’t coming by your own watercraft.