Summer Escape with the Tycoon

“If you are.”

He put his phone down on the flat rock, took a deep breath and brought his arm down in one swift swing. There was a crunching sound, and when he lifted the rock, his phone was shattered right in the middle.

“Okay, your turn.”

Molly’s insides churned. She wasn’t sure why. It was just a stupid phone. It was nothing to be afraid of. She could buy a new one in the next town if she wanted.

He handed her the rock. She let it roll around in her hand for a moment, feeling the weight of it, the hard edges. Then she carefully set her phone down on the flat surface.

Then, with formidable strength and a steady aim, she brought the rock down on the screen and felt it shatter as the contact vibrated through her hand.

It did feel rather symbolic. And frightening. And liberating.

“You did it,” Eric said approvingly. “I thought for a minute you were going to chicken out.”

She shook her head. “Nope. It’s time for a change. I think I’ve known it for a long time, and it took getting away for me to make the first step.”

“Scared?”

“Plenty. But...” An expansive feeling filled her chest. “But excited, too.” She grinned up at him, thrilled when she saw him grinning back. “After today, I think everything is going to change.”

CHAPTER SIX

SHE WASN’T WRONG.

Everything changed the next day, when they left Campbell River and headed farther north to their base camp on the Johnstone Strait. Civilization was left behind as they traveled to where they’d camp for three nights. Instead of taking full luggage, they took only what they’d need for their kayaking tour and left the rest at the hotel, where they’d return before heading on to other adventures.

It wasn’t the sleeping-in-a-tent part that had Molly fazed. The tents were on platforms, and there were actual off-the-ground beds inside with plenty of comfortable bedding. No, it was the wobbly kayak in front of her that was freaking her out right now. This was far more daunting than the snorkeling, where she could put her feet down on the bottom of the river whenever she wanted and was only a few feet from shore, with a boat standing by.

“Bucket list,” she reminded herself shakily. “Adventure doesn’t mean it’s easy. You got this, Quinn.”

“Talking to yourself?”

“Yes.” She looked up at Eric with a scowl. “I have a number of irrational fears, okay?”

“Don’t we all?” He wiped his hands on his shorts. “Let me guess. Another first?”

“Yes.” She huffed out a big breath. “And I’m afraid of tipping and...getting stuck underwater.” The thought threatened to make her hyperventilate. She hadn’t really thought it would be this hard.

He looked into her face by bending his knees a bit so they were the same height. “You’ll bob right back up again.”

“But these are the skinny kayaks,” she said apprehensively. “I read that they’re not as stable as the sit-on-top kind.”

She knew she was not sounding very adventurous, so she straightened. “Never mind. I’ll stop being a weenie.”

She was a few steps away when he moved forward and caught her arm. “Not a weenie. But you’re not the only first-timer here, and I’m sure the guides are used to it. Besides, like every other outing, you’re not alone. You’ll be safe. The guides are with us, and we’re with each other. Nothing’s going to happen to you. Promise.”

A strange look passed over his face, and she wondered why, but her nerves were jangling around too loudly for her to worry about it. He let go of her arm and went over to where his kayak waited. This evening they were going to learn the basics and paddle around their little cove as they got used to their kayaks. Tomorrow would take them farther up the strait. They’d be gone almost the whole day.

The instructor showed them how to get into the kayaks and adjust the skirt around the top to keep the water out of the cockpit. Molly felt less than graceful as she put one foot in and then the other, then got her feet positioned. She loved the idea of being on the water, but there was something about being secured that made her feel so vulnerable. Trapped. She had her paddle, and one by one the instructors came along and pushed each craft farther into the water until they were bobbing on the surface.

She had no idea why she felt as if the boat were on a tightrope or balance beam, but with each sideways movement she gave a gasp and then overcorrected.

One of the instructors pulled up alongside. “Nervous?”

“Very,” she admitted.

The woman looked right in Molly’s eyes. “You got this. The water’s calm and you’re not going to flip. I’m here, too.”