Page 10 of Just One Summer with the Grumpy

Oh, boy.

“Here, Kamia,” I said, brushing the water off the seat. “Your shoes will get wet, but at least your pants won’t.” At least not until we got going. I’d been kayaking a dozen times. If she expected to stay completely dry, this would be a long afternoon.

She ignored me and the still-damp life jacket at her feet. “I’m Kamia, from Santa Monica. And you are?”

“Afonso from Portugal. Very pleased to meet you, Kamia.” The model—er, tourist—inclined his head, which practically sent Kamia all aflutter.

I could see the light in her eyes, the excitement buzzing through her limbs. It’s how I’d felt upon meeting Ty for the first time. It was also the last thing we needed right now.

“We’d better get going,” I told Kamia, scooping up her life jacket and lifting it around her arms. “The tour guide is way ahead of us.”

“Do you have a kayak partner, Afonso?” Kamia asked sweetly. “If not, I volunteer. I’ve always wanted to go to Portugal. Maybe you can tell me about it.”

“Actually, Afonso is paired with me.” Chase appeared from behind us, his life jacket hanging unclipped. He turned to the man. “You ready to go?”

Of course Chase would be here. I felt relieved and frustrated all at once. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with Kamia alone, but why did Chase feel it necessary to stalk us? Didn’t he trust me?

Afonso nodded reluctantly. “Yes, Chase Everett. I would be pleased to share a kayak with you.”

Kamia grumbled a curse and took her seat.

Crisis averted. Maybe.

I forced Chase out of my mind and settled into a steady rhythm at first, grateful for the physical exertion after so long at a desk. My triceps began to burn, but in a good way. I would be delightfully sore tomorrow. How I missed the high school volleyball days, when every sport had come easily.

“You’re going too fast,” Kamia complained. “What is this, the Olympics?”

I shot a glance back at Chase and Afonso, who paddled in tandem slightly behind us. The farther ahead we got, the better. “I can’t wait to show you Black Sand Beach. It’s really something.” I had no idea whether that was true, but it sounded like something a wedding planner would say.

“A beach full of volcanic gravel. Ooh, yay. Sounds like a winner.”

To her credit, she didn’t stop paddling and increased her pace. Probably so she didn’t look weak in front of Afonso.

Every few minutes, I stole a glance back at Chase, who drifted far behind us now. He’d set their pace intentionally slow, despite Afonso trying to paddle faster. At least Chase understood what needed to happen.

I tried to imagine what this experience would be like alone, without my boss judging my every move and a whiny bride sharing my kayak. If I were alone, I would paddle all around the island, just for fun. I would drink in the sound of seagulls overhead and let the sunshine beat through the wind that kept tossing my hair into my eyes. I’d let the waves take me wherever they wanted and really explore this beautiful island. Yes, I could definitely get used to this.

But first, I had to keep my job and all that came with it—including Kamia Holland.

I felt Chase’s gaze on my back the entire way.

FIVE

Turnedout Kamia’s description wasn’t far off. The black sand felt more like tiny pieces of scratching gravel that got stuck in my sandals. I picked my way carefully across the rocky blanket and toward the softness of the grassy line of trees, listening for Kamia’s shrill voice on a wind that had started picking up. I only heard a word here and there.

Chase stood back, watching Kamia and Afonso as they stood on the shore and talked in low voices. He wore a deep frown.

I understood why. If Kamia was this blatant with her unexpected crush, we could have a serious problem on our hands. Marcus would be sure to hear about this. If she canceled the wedding, what would happen to my job? I honestly didn’t know. Maybe Chase’s company only got a percentage of its money in the case of cancellations. For a wedding that cost six million dollars, that could be a significant sum. Her guests were already arriving.

Then again, Kamia was an adult, nearly thirty, and certainly old enough to make her own decisions. She’d hired us to give her a beautiful wedding, not run her life.

I stepped next to Chase. “You need to stop frowning. You’ll scare the clients away. They’re supposed to be having fun, remember?”

He scowled at Kamia. “She’s supposed to be getting married. There’s a difference.”

“If there’s a difference, you aren’t doing it right.”

I chuckled at the joke. He only blinked.

---