Shut Up and Kiss Me by Julie Cannon

Author:Julie Cannon [Cannon, Julie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781635553444
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2019-01-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Day Nine

Akaroa, New Zealand

I was up early and, from the privacy of my patio, watched as we docked in Akaroa at eight that morning. I hadn’t slept much the past two nights, and I kept remembering the stricken look on Faith’s face as she stepped out of my arms at the observatory. It was bad enough she didn’t want anything to do with this arrangement, and after the clinch in the dark, I felt guilty for putting her in this position. What had started out as an opportunity was now anything but. It was somewhere around one in the morning when I decided I’d make this the best experience I possibly could for her. She might feel like she had to accompany me, but I was going to make it as enjoyable for her as it was going to be for me.

Akaroa, the guide had told us last night in the briefing, is a village a little more than seventy-five minutes from the more famous city of Christ Church. “Akaroa means long harbor,” the bald man explained. “It was named best cruise destination in Australia and New Zealand in the Cruise Critics’ award in 2017,” he read off a piece of paper in his hand. We’re here for two days, enabling us to tour the galleries and craft stores, enjoy a hot stone massage, or play a round of golf on their famous mini-golf course. All those activities sounded a bit too boring, so I’d signed up for kayaking and possibly an hour on a jet ski. I passed on the Alpaca Farm Tour.

Faith was waiting for me on the main deck when I stepped out of the elevator. She was wearing a pair of jade-green shorts with a light-green tank top and a pair of water shoes. She held the same bag she had carried in Hobart and had a death grip on the Nike visor in her hand. We exchanged polite greetings, then took the elevator to deck five, where a ferry would take us to the dock.

Two men with almost identical neatly trimmed beards helped us onto the worn, weathered dock. One of the men was much taller than the other and had an accent so strong I could barely follow what he was saying. Thankfully, he didn’t talk much.

We bounced along a steep, narrow road in a caravan of four-wheel-drive Jeeps. The scenery was magnificent, with green rolling hills. There were eight of us, three couples, Faith, and me. There was only one single kayak, so I offered to double up with Faith. We were fitted with compact life vests and a paddle, and after fifteen minutes of instruction, we were ready to slide our bright-yellow kayak into the water.

Faith was up front, so she climbed in first, her position giving me a perfect view of her fine ass as she maneuvered into the tight seat. Once she was settled, I did the same, but certainly not as elegantly as she had. We dug our paddles into the sand and pushed off into the water.

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