Page 94 of Fluke
I lean forward to get a better look. “Is that a manatee?”
“Yeah.” He smiles. “Cool, huh?”
“Yeah. It is.”
“There’s another one.”
We drift across the water, using our paddles to go around the beautiful creatures. It’s much less taxing than I feared. The current carries us with little effort.
“You feeling better over there?” Jess asks.
“Yes. The manatees look pretty defenseless, so if they can live in here, surely I can paddle for a couple of hours on top of it.”
He grins. “What else have you never done that you’ve wanted to do?”
“I’ve never been to the Pacific Northwest.”
“That’s easily fixable.”
“I’ve never had crème brûlée,” I say. “I was watching a food show and they took their spoons and cracked the top—the crack was so satisfying.”
Jess laughs. “You are so easily entertained.”
“Lucky for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He grins as he paddles toward me. “Are you implying that I’m not working hard enoughto entertain you, Miss Plum?”
His predatory gaze and sexy smirk send a chill racing through my body. It pools in the bottom of my core, making me clench.
The warm air is tempered by the trees overhead blocking the sun. Instead of the intense rays burning my skin, filtered sunlight casts a warm, happy glow over the river.
This definitely needs to go on the retreat menu.
“What’s the bar for entertainment?” he asks. “What scale are you using to measure? Am I competing with Vibe Jess?”
“I measure with my heart.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
I try to keep a straight face but fail. I giggle, paddling until my board is floating next to his. “Kiss me.” I pucker, leaning far enough over the side to reach him but not too far where I feel like I’ll swim with the manatees.
“Oh, you think you can demand kisses now?”
“Well, you sure as hell don’t deny me when I ask for other things.”
His eyes sparkle as he grins, leaning toward me. “You’re damn right I don’t.”
His lips touch mine. It’s brief and sweet but also … not.
My stomach flutters as Jess pulls away, and I’m left watching him and wondering why that just felt different.
“Hey,” he says, dragging his paddle. “Look up there.”
“Where?” I follow his gaze into the trees on my right. “What the fuck is that?”
“Monkeys.”
“Monkeys?” My voice is high, almost chirpy, and the sound causes the monkey to smack its lips. “Why is it doing that?”
