“Enjoy my float?” As the shuttle started back down the road, I wondered if it was too late to chase it down and bribe the driver to shuttle me back to California. The only way I was ever going to enjoy any “float” was if it was accompanied by a margarita on a lazy river in Palm Springs.
I smoothed down my brand-new sea foam-colored Lululemon ensemble, a matching sports shirt and leggings combo that had looked perfect in the resort boutique mirror. Then made my way down to the river.
Clear water tumbled over smooth stones, creating a symphony of gurgles and splashes. Towering pines lined both banks, their branches swaying in the morning breeze. Patchesof sunlight dappled the water’s surface. It was the kind of scene Instagram filters were made for.
“Looking good, Sports Illustrated.”
I nearly dropped my phone in the river as Diego came up behind me.
“Too bad no one’s going to see it.” He held up what appeared to be a black rubber S&M gimp costume, which dripped water and smelled like gym socks.
“What is that?” I wrinkled my nose as Diego thrust the dripping monstrosity toward me.
“Your wetsuit. Unless you prefer hypothermia as your next authentic Colorado adventure. The river runs at about forty-five degrees year-round thanks to the snow melt.”
I took the wetsuit between two reluctant fingers, holding it at arm’s length. “You do realize we’re trying to get people to want to visit this place, not run screaming in the opposite direction?”
Diego waved his hand at my Lululemon ensemble. “That might work for a poolside photo shoot, but the river requires something a bit more ...” He paused, searching for the right word. “Functional.”
He handed me a faded orange life jacket that looked like it had been gnawed on by river otters. “Safety first, style second.”
Just then, a familiar mechanical death rattle echoed through the canyon. Noah’s beat-up Jeep limped into the parking lot, kicking up dust clouds and scarring the retinas of any small woodland creatures within eyesight.
Yeti bounded out first, making a beeline for the river. Noah climbed out after her, his jaw set in that stubborn way I was starting to recognize all too well. A gray henley stretched across his broad chest, and his hair stuck up like he’d been running his hands through it in frustration all morning.
“What are you doing here?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I thought Diego was leading today’s adventure.”
“Victoria’s orders. Apparently.” It may have been Victoria who ordered him to be there, but the tone of his voice made it clear that Noah definitely blamed me.
He grabbed an oar from the back of his Jeep, and for a split second, I thought he was going to whack me over the head with it. Judging from the look on his face, he at least considered it. That’s when I noticed a kayak strapped to the roof.
“I guess this makes more sense now.” I pulled out my phone and showed him Victoria’s text from the middle of the night:
Victoria Sterling:
More Mountain Man!
“Looks like you’ve got a fan club starting, Hermano.”
Noah’s face darkened like storm clouds rolling over the mountains. “I’m not here to be anyone’s social media prop.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” I gestured at his wild hair and grey henley. “Apparently, the whole grumpy mountain man thing is really working for our engagement metrics.”
“This isn’t a performance.” Noah brushed past me as he began unloading his kayak. “This is my life.” He wrestled his boat to the ground. “Don’t fuck it up.”
“So here’s the deal,” Diego said, pulling a massive two-person kayak off the trailer he and Jenn had brought down earlier that morning. It looked like a bright yellow banana that had spent too much time at the gym. “You’ll be riding tandem with me, while Noah follows behind as safety.”
“Tandem? As in ... sharing?”
“Unless you think you can navigate Class III rapids all by yourself.” Diego patted the yellow plastic beast with affection. “You’ll sit in front; I’ll steer from the back.”
I glanced between the kayak and Noah, who was adjustinghis life vest with sharp, irritated jerks. Great. Not only would I be trapped in a floating banana with Diego, but I’d also have Noah’s judgmental stare burning into my back the whole time.
Yeti flopped down on the riverbank, her tongue lolling out in what looked suspiciously like laughter.
“You wanted real Colorado, right?” Diego grinned. “Things are about to get real. Unless you’d rather ride with Noah.”
“No,” we both said at once.
