“This is incredible,” I say, taking another bite. Levi’s pleased expression warms me more than the sun on my skin.
Settling onto the sand, I stare at Levi’s bare feet, watching as his toes sink comfortably into the cool grains. I glance at my own feet, awkwardly encased in the water shoes I’d bought specially for this trip and feel like an obvious tourist. Everything about him speaks of someone completely at home on this beach.
As we eat, I take in our surroundings. The beach Levi’s chosen for our picnic is a hidden gem, a small crescent of golden sand nestled between towering rocky cliffs. The secluded cove feels like our own private world. Waves lap gently at the shore, their rhythm a soothing backdrop to our meal.
Our conversation, which flowed so easily on the water, begins to ebb as we settle into our picnic. I tell Levi about my favorite artists and the places I dream of painting someday. He shares a few stories about Lublin Harbor, his love for the sea evident in every word. But as our meal progresses, I notice Levi becoming quieter, his responses shorter, and his posture more rigid.
It’s a stark contrast to the man who guided me so confidently earlier, pointing out landmarks and sharing local lore with ease. Now, on solid ground, he seems almost like a different person – less sure of himself and much more reserved. His eyes keep drifting back to the water, and I can’t help but think that out there, amid the waves and salt air, is where he truly comes alive. He seems somewhat out of his element here, surrounded by sand and stone.
Hoping to ease his discomfort, I ask, “So, how did you become a tour guide?”
Levi chuckles, shaking his head. “Honestly? I’m not quite sure. Koko asked me to help with her vacation business, and I couldn’t say no to her. I owe her a lot. I’m actually just a fisherman, not a tour guide at all.”
His admission surprises me. “Really? You seemed so confident and knew so much about the area – its history and the wildlife. I would never have guessed.”
A faint blush colors his cheeks at my words. “Thanks,” he says, looking down at his sandwich. “I was nervous about it, to be honest. I’m not usually great with people.”
“Well, you could have fooled me,” I say, wanting to ease his discomfort. I offer him a warm smile. “I’m having a wonderful time.”
The blush on his cheeks darkens, making something warm bloom in my chest.
“Here, you’ve got to try this,” he says, offering me a small, crescent-shaped pastry. “It’s one of my favorites – a poppy seed roll. Koko’s specialty is Slavic pastries, so you’re in for a treat.”
I take a bite, and the rich, slightly sweet flavor fills my mouth. “It’s delicious,” I say, reaching for another.
As we finish our lunch, I silently wish the day didn’t have to end. But Levi, ever mindful of the sea, points out that the tide is starting to come in. We need to head back soon to avoid rougher waters.
Before we start packing up, Levi turns to me, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “You know, the day doesn’t have to end when we get back to the marina,” he says, his eyes meeting mine briefly before darting away. “If you’re up for it, we could check out some tide pools. There’s a great spot near the harbor, though it would mean we’d need to drive. The weather’s perfect for it.”
His offer touches me, and I must admit, I am a little thrilled at the idea of spending more time with him. For a moment, I’m tempted to say yes, to let the day stretch on indefinitely. But reality intrudes, and I reluctantly shake my head.
“That sounds wonderful, Levi, really,” I say, hoping he can hear the genuine regret in my voice. “But I have some client work I need to catch up on this afternoon. Being a freelance artist means I’m never truly on vacation,” I add with a small, apologetic laugh.
“Oh, of course,” Levi says, nodding. “I understand completely.”
He’s quick to hide it, but I catch a flicker of disappointment cross his face. It sends a little thrill through me, knowing he wanted to spend more time together. At the same time, it makes saying no that much harder.
We pack up the remains of our picnic and prepare the kayaks for the return journey. As Levi helps me back into my kayak, our eyes meet, and neither of us moves for a moment.
“Thank you for today, Levi,” I say softly. “It’s been amazing.”
He swallows hard, and I suddenly realize how close we are. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he manages to say, his earlier awkwardness returning. “We should, uh, we should head back now.”
The return journey is quieter, both of us lost in our thoughts. The late afternoon sun casts a golden glow over the water, painting everything in warm, rich hues. I catch myself looking at Levi a few times, marveling at how he seems to transform once we’re back on the water. His movements are sure, and his expression serene.
As we paddle, a thought occurs to me. “Levi,” I call out, “do you have any recommendations for a good place to eat dinner?”
He turns to me, a small smile playing on his lips. “That depends. Do you like seafood?”
“I love it!” I reply enthusiastically. “I’m excited to get some fresh seafood. Living in the desert, it’s not exactly a common treat.”
Levi’s smile widens. “In that case, I’d recommend The Fish House. It’s not a very creative name, but they get their catch straight from the boats at the marina each day. The only way to get it fresher would be to catch it yourself.”
“That sounds perfect,” I say, already imagining the meal. “I can’t wait to try it.”
As we pull back into the harbor, I feel a bit of reluctance that the day is ending. I help Levi secure the kayaks, and he helps me get out of my life vest.
“Well,” Levi begins, seeming hesitant, “what about tomorrow? You still want to do an early morning fishing trip? The sunrise over the water is something you really shouldn’t miss.”
