for their date Saturday. However, when she spotted two long objects secured to the racks on the roof of his truck she knew why.
She frowned. “Boats?”
“Kayaks,” he corrected and opened the passenger door.
“I don’t really do boats.”
He laughed deliciously. “It’ll be fun,” he said. “Trust me.”
“I do,” she replied. “I just don’t trust boats.”
He told her M.J. had arrived early that morning and was happily in charge of the kids for the day. Jamie had insisted on making Callie a matching pendant to go with the bracelet he’d gifted her and Callie was incredibly touched.
The trip to the boat ramp took about ten minutes and Callie relaxed. The nervous energy she seemed to have around him had disappeared. She felt calm and happy. And Callie sensed she was ready for the next step. Telling him about Ryan had been exactly what she needed to do. It gave her strength and, from somewhere, the courage to dare to imagine a future with the incredible man beside her.
When they reached the boat ramp he passed her something.
“You’ll need to wear this. There’s a ladies bathroom over there.”
He pointed to a concrete block building about fifty meters away. This turned out to be a black, stretchy, sleeveless wet suit that came to her knees and a pair of matching shoes with rubber grips on the soles. Once out of her jeans and shirt and into the wet suit, Callie ran her hands over her hips. With only a bikini beneath, she felt a little deliciously decadent. When she returned to the truck she saw he’d also changed into a similar suit.
It should be illegal for a man to look that good in black rubber.
She watched, feeling rather useless, as Noah unclipped the kayaks from the utility, prepped them for their outing and launched them into the water.
“Ready?” he asked and handed her a sun visor. It looked new, as if he’d bought it especially for her. “Can you swim?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” he said and passed her a life jacket. “Humor me anyway and wear this.”
Callie didn’t argue and slipped the jacket over her wet suit.
“We’ll go up river,” he said. “It’s low tide at the moment. Just stick close by me.”
She didn’t intend to let him out of her sight.
Noah gave her quick but detailed instructions on how to use the single oar and maneuver the craft through the water. Half an hour later they were on their way.
Noah stayed at her pace and they paddled up river, splicing through the water in unison. On either side of the river the mangrove branches twisted and rose up onto the sandbank. Schools of fish crisscrossed below them and some flipped out of the water, delivering a salty spray across her face and arms.
“How are your arms holding up?” Noah asked after about an hour.
“Good. Although I think I’ll be sore tomorrow.”
“We’ll stop for a bit,” he said. “I owe you breakfast for making you get up this early.”
Callie laughed. “Breakfast? Is there a café tucked along here somewhere?”
“You’re sitting on it,” he said, grinning. “There’s a storage compartment beneath your seat. There’s a cooler with food and a thermos of coffee.”
Callie looked between her legs and chuckled. “So, what are you sitting on?”
He laughed. It was a rich, lovely sound. “The first-aid kit. Sunscreen. A spare life jacket. And my phone.”
“You’ve thought of everything.”
“Habit,” he said, and indicated her to turn the kayak toward a smaller secluded inlet. “With kids you have to be prepared for any emergency.”
Noah pointed to a tiny alcove ahead and they oared to shore. He got out first and dragged his kayak onto the sand and quickly helped Callie do the same. Once her feet hit the ground she felt the wobble in her calves and thighs. Noah grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Sea legs,” he said with a smile. “It’ll pass.”
Callie let the warmth radiate through her. His fingers were strong and gentle against her skin. She placed her hands at his waist. That felt good, too. She wished she’d tossed off the life jacket so she could get closer to him. Then he kissed her with all the pent-up passion fuelling the long three days since they’d seen one another.
“Callie,” he whispered against her mouth, before he kissed her cheek and the delicate and sensitive skin below her earlobe. “I’m starved.”
She smiled. “Me, too,” she admitted, not wanting to leave his embrace but liking the idea of some food. She pushed past the nagging disappointment she felt when he released her. “What did you bring?” she asked as she slipped off the life jacket.
“Let’s see.”
They unpacked the kayak together. Callie grabbed the small rug he’d provided and spread it down farther up the bank in a spot shaded by a wiry native tree. She sat with her knees up, while Noah stretched out his long limbs beside her. There was fruit, soft bread rolls, cheese and smoked ham. They sat on the rug, eating and not saying much of anything for a while. Noah passed her a resin mug filled with coffee and she took it gratefully.
The weather was warm with a gentle hint of breeze and there were birds calling out from the trees above. Water lapped at the edge of the small sandy inlet and the sound was faintly hypnotic.
She put down her mug and uncurled her legs. “It’s a lovely spot. Do you come here often?”
“Not much.”
He wasn’t looking at her, she noticed. He was looking at the sand, his feet and the drink in his hand. She said his name again and he looked up. His green eyes were vibrant and wholly aroused. Heat rode up her spine at a galloping speed.
“I didn’t,” he said quietly, interpreting her response, “bring you here with any motive other than to spend time with you.”
“I know.” Callie rested back on her elbows, felt the wet suit stretch with her movements and saw his gaze narrow. “I also know you won’t rush me.”
He sucked in a breath. “I’m glad you know that.”
She relaxed fractionally. Dare she admit he was first man outside of her family who made her feel safe? “It’s not that I’m afraid of … of …” She waved her hand between them.
“Of making love?”
“With you?” She pushed herself up and let out a long breath. “No. It’s just that I’ve only ever been with one man in my whole life and it seems like such a long time ago.”
“There’s no hurry.”
Noah
