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5
I’min the front seat of the kayak. It’s a red and orange sea kayak, long and narrow, and it glides beautifully through the water.
Declan hasn’t said much since we shoved off from the little bay. I packed a couple bottles of water and made sure the kayak had a pump, a radio, some rope, a machete, a whistle and all the other gear we’d need in case of capsizing or an emergency. I’m slathered in sunscreen and the coconutty smell fills the air and mixes with the fresh salty breeze.
I love being on the water, and sea kayaking is one of the most peaceful ways to experience the ocean. In fact, the Zen-like rhythm of our paddling has relaxed me so much that it’s hard to remember exactly how much I dislike Declan.
You have to work together in a tandem kayak, you have to get a flow going, and keep the right rhythm, it’s a silent sort of communication. Years ago my paddling instructor likened it to dancing, then Kate, being Kate, likened it to sex.
The person in the back is the “lead.” Declan is in the back seat, meaning that he has control of our direction. He’s steering the boat. If he decided to turn us around, head to the other side of the island or go in some other random direction, there isn’t much I could do to stop him. I mean, I could make it difficult, but he has the most steering power from the back.
Not that it matters.
We’re halfway to the little island and our powers of cooperation are a sight to behold.
The sea is calm, there’s only the slightest breeze, and when I glance over the side of the kayak I see a school of bright yellow and white fish flashing by. The sun hits their scales and turns them iridescent. The small ripples bend the sunshine and send light dancing over the sandy sea floor. I don’t know that I’ll ever get over the fact that you can see ten, twenty, thirty feet down, like you’re peering through a perfectly clear glass window into the sea.
I turn in my seat and smile back at Declan. “Isn’t this incredible?” I ask, forgetting for a second that we don’t like each other.
He keeps paddling, and I ogle the way his biceps bulge when he moves his paddle swiftly through the water. Wowie zowie, he’s a looker.
His rash guard shirt is skintight, and it shows off his flat chest and the muscles of his abdomen. It’s amazing to me that his outside doesn’t match his surly inside at all, in fact, it’s… “Incredible.”
“What’s incredible?” he says sharply.
I stiffen. Ummm.
“Oh look, a sea turtle,” I say and point in a random direction over the side.
He stops paddling and looks down into the water. The boat slows. “I don’t see it.”
I pretend to look for the non-existent sea turtle over the edge of the kayak. “Oh, well. They’re pretty fast.”
Declan gives me a skeptical look and tightens his jaw. He lifts the paddle and sends it to the other side of the kayak. Little water droplets fall across the boat, forming an arc. We start moving forward again.
I turn back around and help paddle.
Unfortunately, the peaceful feeling from earlier is gone. There’s an itch between my shoulder blades that tells me Declan is studying me with quiet intensity. I take a quick peek behind me and then turn forward again.
Sure enough, instead of looking out at the water and the beautiful scenery, Declan’s staring at me.
I roll my shoulders. The island is only another two hundred meters away. We can get there, poke around a bit, and then turn back. I’ll be away from him and this awkwardness soon enough.
To dispel some of the tension I’m feeling, I point out a frigate bird soaring above. “They can stay in the air for months at a time, not landing once, isn’t that amazing?”
“Sounds exhausting. Or like they’re trying to get away from someone.”
Argh.
“And who would that be? The frigate police?”
He scoffs. “I imagine they’re trying to escape the conniving clutches of the female half of the species.”
“Oh, look. The island,” I say, ignoring his jab.
The kayak glides up to the shallow waters at the edge of a little strip of sand. The beach is only about fifteen feet deep, but it looks like it extends around the entire island. There are clusters of coral rocks and palm trees at the edge of the sand. The entirety of the island seems to be a mix of woody shrubs and palm trees. Basically, it’s a tiny little slip of paradise. The late afternoon sun has turned the water glittering blue-green and it feels as if we’re all alone in the world.
I have to admit, if I had been planning a seduction, this would’ve been the perfect spot. The kayak bottom hits the edge of the sandy beach and I hop out.
My feet splash in the cool water that laps against the shore. I stretch my arms over my head and get out all the kinks from paddling over.
I notice a tree loaded with quite a few good-sized coconuts just waiting for me to nab.
Behind me, Declan jumps out of the boat into the water. He grabs the kayak and pulls it farther up onto the sand.
He walks up next to me and crosses his arms.
“What now?” he asks.
“I’m going to grab a coconut. Want one?”
His brow wrinkles and he looks from me to the coconut tree that I’m pointing at. The coconuts are about twenty feet up.
“You’re going to grab a coconut?” he says. He takes in my cut-off jean shorts, T-shirt and bare feet.
“Watch and learn,” I say.
I jog over to the tree, grasp the trunk around the back with both hands and climb up.
I’ve been climbing coconut trees since I was three. My mom nearly had a heart attack when she saw me, a tiny toddler, fifteen feet up, clutching a green coconut. I’ve been doing it ever since. It’s all a matter of counterweight and grip. I grab one of the bigger coconuts and twist, it easily comes loose. I drop it to the ground, pick another and throw it down too. Then I scramble down quickly and drop to the sand.
“Ta da. Fresh coconut.” I wipe my palms off on my shorts.
Declan gives me a stunned look, like he can’t compute the fact that I just scrambled up a tree and dropped down a couple of coconuts.
I smirk at him, then go to the kayak and pull the small machete I packed out of the storage hatch. I give the coconuts a quick whack and then carry them back to Declan.
“Cheers.”
He grabs one and I knock my coconut against his and then tip it back and let the warm, sweet liquid slide down my throat.
Declan gives me a skeptical look, then takes a drink.
“Yeah. That’s good,” I say. I give him a sidelong glance. He’s draining his coconut. Paddling is thirsty work.
We’re barefoot, drinking fresh coconut water on an uninhabited island. The only thing we need to make this even more perfect is to actually like each other.
I drop my empty coconut to the sand and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. Declan’s eyes flick to my lips, then he looks away. He sets his coconut down next to mine.
“Thank you,” he says stiffly.
His shoulders are tight and his jaw is still clenched. I have no idea how someone can be so uptight on a tropical island, but he manages perfectly. For my own sanity I need to find a way to get him to relax.
“Well, now that we’re here my plan can begin,” I say nonchalantly. I dig my toes into the sand.
His eyes narrow. “What plan?”
I look up at him and grin like a cartoon villain. “The plan where I seduce you with my coconuts and then steal your money. It’s so easy, so fool-proof, you won’t be able to resist. Bwaaah. Millions. I’ll take millions.” I steeple my fingers together and do my impression of an evil villain laugh.
