“Ever been kayaking before?” Cole’s voice was low in my ear the next day as we stood in a circle watching the guide’s safety presentation.
“No,” I whispered so only he would hear.
“Why the fuck would you plan a kayaking trip if you’ve never been?”
I looked up into his eyes, which were the same color as the wings of the blue morpho butterfly he’d pointed out to me on the walk from the shuttle bus. As a woman, it irritated me that his eyes were prettier than mine, a deep blue color ringed by thick, dark lashes. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Cole? Or do you only play games you think you can win?”
“I have an excellent sense of adventure, thank you,” he said stiffly. “I just…I worry about you sometimes.”
Worry aboutme?The last thing I wanted from Cole was pity. I was reasonably in shape, and I’d been only a little out of breath when we’d reached the misty summit yesterday and gazed down onto the stunningly teal water inside the caldera. “What, because I’m”—I dropped my voice further—“forty-three? I’ll admit it, I’m ten years closer to retirement than you are?—”
“Nine,” he interrupted. “I’m nine years younger than you.”
“Whatever. I’m not ready for the retirement home yet.” I remembered how old forty seemed when I was in my twenties and even in my early thirties. And now I was well on the wrong side of it. Sure, I’d overestimated my hiking abilities when I slipped on the way back down from the summit and tweaked my ankle. Call me stubborn, but I refused to limp. Cole would consider me weak, since no human was as fit as him. Idefinitelyhadn’t ogled the thick thighs his shorts revealed.
“I wasn’t saying?—”
“Señorita Bridget.” The guide used his paddle to point at the sunshine-yellow kayak next to Gina.
“Com—”
“She’s with me,” Cole said.
“What?” I tilted my head and peered at him.
“Gina’s a newbie too,” he said. “Together, you two’d tip in about three seconds.”
“No, we—” But I stopped. It wasn’t worth arguing. The guide had taken Cole’s words as gospel and assigned Miguel as Gina’s partner. Too bad. It would’ve been fun to paddle with her, whether or not we went anywhere.
“How do you know she’s not an experienced kayaker?” I asked.
“She’s wearing her life vest wrong,” he said. He barked out an order to the guide to check Gina’s vest. “And so are you.”
“What?” I glanced down at it. Everyone else’s was blue, but mine was neon orange. I suspected it was a child’s size. “The guide already checked me.”
“And he was probably afraid you’d bite his hand off if he cinched it tight enough.” He waved at the vest. “May I?”
I scanned his face. Was he trying to sabotage me? He probably planned to dump me in the water, where my vest would float off, and I’d sink to the bottom and be devoured by acrocodile. Maybe the same one who’d chomped on my passport. Then he’d be the sole CEO.
“If I die on this trip,” I said, “the company pays out a massive amount to my family.”
“Ourinsurancepays out a massive amount to your family. And this is why I’d rather you not tip in a kayak with another noob or have your vest ride up and smother you. Can I fix it?”
“Fine.” I held my arms away from my body.
Silly me. I hadn’t expected my breath to quicken when his big hands approached my breasts or how deftly his thick fingers would dance over the straps on the jacket, and definitely not how a tiny gasp would escape me when he snugged the vest around my chest.
His eyebrows crashed down, and he cleared his throat. “That feel okay?”
“Fi—” I fought to bring air into my lungs, not because of the tightness of the vest but because suddenly, someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the rainforest. “Fine.”
“Good.” When he turned toward our bright blue kayak, I breathed again.
The others hadn’t fussed with their vests and were already grabbing their boats by the straps and teaming up to carry them down to the riverbank. I spotted the strap on the end closest to me and reached for it when Cole said, “Stand back.”
Good idea. He hadn’t even touched my body, only the inch-thick foam over it, and my heart was racing like a teenager’s at her first boy-girl dance. There were a million flowers here, and one of them must act as a hallucinogen. Or I was dehydrated. I shuffled backward under the shade and pulled out my water bottle.
In one smooth motion, he grabbed the side of the boat, flipped the thing onto his thighs, and hoisted it to his shoulder.Whoa.The water was definitely not helping. My tongue was dryas I watched his shoulder muscles bulge under his T-shirt, and I let my gaze trail down his strong back to his glutes and thighs in his Bermuda shorts as he carried it down the bank. “Coming, Bridget?” he called over his shoulder.
