“Sure.” I don’t ask where we’re headed. Instead, I just walk out the door after him. I don’t even lock it. What is there left to steal?
Five minutes later I’m having second thoughts as we reach the marina next to Liberty Bay Waterfront Park and Jakob pulls a tandem kayak from a rack.
“Wait, we’re going kayaking?” I hesitate. I haven’t been in years. Not since middle school, probably.
Jakob glances back, hefting the double-seat kayak like it weighs nothing. “Sure. Ed lets me use a kayak whenever I want to in exchange for free pastries.” He shrugs. “Good deal for both of us. Grab two paddles, will you? And life jackets are just there.”
At the end of the dock we slip into our life jackets and he steadies the kayak while I clamber into the front seat. I’m not graceful, but I don’t tip out. Once I’m settled, Jakob hands me the paddles and gets in the seat at the back with considerably more ease. Those panther-like reflexes must be nice. I’m not uncoordinated, but I was never chosen first for sports in school. I pass a paddle back to him and find a cup holder in front of me for my latte. We don’t talk as we paddle out into the bay. It’s a beautiful morning, clear and gray, with the promise of sun when the clouds burn off later. There’s only a little activity this morning at the marina—a sailboat heading out on the bay, a fishing vessel coming back from an early morning on the water. We pass the waterfront park with its wide lush lawn and large wooden gazebo in a Scandinavian style, around which flags from different Scandinavian countries flutter in the slight breeze. Gulls wheel and cry overhead, and the rhythmic dip of our paddles is almost hypnotic. The silence doesn’t feel unnatural, but it doesn’t feel easyeither. I can sense him behind me…looming with his ice-blue eyes and his perceptive quiet and his…muscles.
“How did filming go yesterday?” he asks, breaking the silence.
“Oh, it was actually really fun. I don’t like being in front of the camera, but Henry made it easy.”
“Did he now.” There’s a dry inflection to the comment that I don’t appreciate.
“He’s being really nice helping us out,” I say, a touch defensively. “It could be a big boost to the store and to my new business.”
“Sure, Henry seems like a nice guy,” Jakob says, and somehow it doesn’t sound like a compliment.
I turn in my seat, feeling indignant. What right does Jakob have to judge Henry? He doesn’t even know him.
Neither do you, a little voice in my head whispers. I ignore it.
“What do you mean by that?” I demand of Jakob. “What’s wrong with someone helping us out with some free publicity?”
“Nothing at all,” he says, meeting my eyes calmly. “But for the record, I don’t think Henry is just being nice.”
“Why?” I narrow my eyes at him.
He looks at me steadily. “How he looks at you for starters.”
“How he looks at me?” I ask, suddenly flustered. “What do you mean?” I really want him to elaborate.
“I don’t think it’s escaped Henry’s attention that you’re a very pretty, single woman,” Jakob remarks evenly.
“Oh.” I feel my cheeks flush scarlet and turn back to face front. I don’t know how to respond to that observation, but secretly I’m pleased. Maybe Henry’s just a nice guy who likes to look for good human interest stories. Or maybe Jakob is right and he’s noticed me as a woman. I hope so. That’s exactly what I want. Also, Jakob thinks I’m pretty? “So what if he’s noticed me?” I ask. “We’re both unattached. It’s not a crime.”
There’s a long silence. “Just be careful, Emmie,” Jakob says at last. “Guys like Henry, they’re used to getting whatever they want. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Henry isn’t like that,” I counter.
“How do you know what Henry’s like?” Jakob challenges softly.
He’s right, but I’m not about to admit it. I’m a pretty good judge of character, and I’m positive Henry is one of the good ones. But still, I don’t know him well, not yet anyway.
“Maybe I’m trying to take advantage of him,” I say tartly.
Jakob chuckles. “Are you?” he says, paddling smoothly. I catch the faintest edge to his question. I think he genuinely wants to know.
I ignore the question. “I’m not some novice at relationships, you know,” I say finally. “I’m a mother. I’ve had a partner. I’ve dated my share of men.” I dig my paddle into the water, straining to propel the kayak forward for a few seconds until my arms get tired. I really need to get more exercise than just hauling trays of fudge from the kitchen.
“And how do you know I’m single?” I demand. “I could have a boyfriend.”
I hear rather than see his smirk. “Emmie, you’re forgetting where we live. I can find out everything if I ask around. Sometimes, I don’t even have to ask. People just tell me things. And on your birthday, when you and Dani came into the store, she offered a lot of information. Something about you needing a Danish because your love life wasn’t so hot?”
Ugh. Dani and her big mouth. My cheeks flame. She basically told Jakob my love life was gathering dust on a shelf. He’s right. It’s not his fault we live in a town that loves nothing more than minding other people’s business.
“Itwasa really good Danish,” I mutter grudgingly.
