A Time for Us - By Amy Knupp Page 0,41

suddenly right beside her again, his boat skimming the side of hers. When he stuck his paddle out and rested it on her boat a couple of inches in front of her abdomen, she looked down at the bottom-of-the-line equipment that Buck—bless his heart—had stuck Cale with and then at his face.

“I’m sorry, Rachel. I never should have said any of that this morning. I was...struggling. I took it out on you. Wrongly so.”

“Struggling. Yes, slightly.”

“I shouldn’t have asked you to go with me.”

“Asking was fine. It’s pretty obvious you had a hard time handling going into the condo. I didn’t mind going with you.”

“You only minded the blowing-up version of me,” he said, attempting to lighten the tension with a self-deprecating grin. “I knew visiting the condo would be rough, but I never intended to take it out on you.” Cale twisted the paddle that still rested on her boat. “This thing is heavy as hell.”

“He gave you the worst one.”

Cale narrowed his eyes at her as if trying to discern if she meant it and then glared out toward Buck’s boathouse. “Crafty old sucker.”

“He’s got my back,” Rachel said cheerfully. Then she sobered and decided to voice what bugged her about his apology. “You said you shouldn’t have said what you said to me, but you didn’t say you didn’t mean it.”

Cale pulled his paddle and his gaze away. Obviously, he’d meant what he’d said, and it hadn’t been just a random thing during his emotional outburst.

“You think I’m not dealing with my grief?” she asked, her voice climbing higher in pitch.

“It seems like it from where I’m sitting.”

“How can you, of all people, even say that?”

“Have you ever let it all out, Rachel? Had some kind of freak fest like I did in my condo—both before and today—or cried yourself to sleep or...lost control for a second?” He shrugged and raised his brows in question.

“Fits of crazy are not the only way to grieve.”

“Nope. There’s lots. Blocking it out isn’t usually considered one, though. I think that’s called avoidance.”

“I’m not—”

“It’s easier not to feel,” he interrupted. “I get that. I don’t know how healthy it is to do it on a long-term basis, is all I’m saying.”

Irritation had been building up in her since he’d arrived. She wanted to scream. Pondered, again, whether she could beat him to the shore—either one. She wouldn’t be picky at this point.

“You want me to lose it?” she asked, her voice sounding half-hysterical. “Is that what you’re looking for, Cale? Should I go a little crazy just like you did? Would you consider me normal then? Healthy?”

“That’s not—”

She didn’t wait to hear what he was going to say. Before he could react, she took her paddle and pressed down on the side of his boat. Within two seconds, it had capsized and Cale was in the drink. Her boat wobbled, but she quickly regained her balance and avoided following him over.

“Haaaa!” Rachel yelled to the sky. When Cale surfaced, she said, half laughing and maybe half-crazy, “Is that what you’re looking for?”

Cale shook his head like a wet dog, spraying water all over her. “Not exactly.”

“You want crazy, I can give you crazy. I just need the right motivation.”

“Evidently,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “How do I get back in this thing?”

“Very carefully.” The release must have done some good because Rachel laughed. Or maybe it was just her latent wicked side finally coming out.

She watched his attempts to master the kayak for a couple of minutes, trying not to crack up. He was going at it from the side, and, of course, every time he hoisted his weight on the boat and tried to get his leg in, he went over again. After three failed attempts, he splashed her intentionally.

“Okay, kayak master, what is the trick?” he said, standing on the bottom, the water only about four feet deep there. It became officially impossible to not stare at his chest. His pecs were perfect—not overly huge like a bodybuilder but definitely eye-catching and beautiful. They went well with his considerable biceps, and she couldn’t prevent the fantasy of having all those muscles close around her.

She forced her eyes to his face with difficulty. She wasn’t supposed to be admiring anything about him. Now or ever.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “You seem to think I do everything wrong. I probably wouldn’t be able to help you.”

“If you don’t help me, I’ll be forced to retaliate.” Cale put a