Temper (Knights of Fury #3) - Chantal Fernando Page 0,42
you get your mom being friends with a drug lord off your mind? It isn’t lost on me that I may be the common denominator here, although I have no idea how.
I’ve decided that when I’m alone, I’m going to call her and get to the bottom of it. Drinking with Izzy last night didn’t help and sitting in my room all day today overthinking didn’t either. When Temper came into my room and told me to get ready because we were going somewhere, I wasn’t exactly in the mood for it, but he insisted. I’m glad I listened to him, though, because sitting around feeling sorry for myself and the situation the MC and myself are in wasn’t exactly being productive.
When we stop in front of a lake, I have to admit, that’s not what I was expecting. “What are we doing here?”
He just smiles, gets out of the car and comes to open my door. “Let me show you.”
We walk toward the water, and then Temper hands a man some money, a man who gives us his canoe in return.
“You ever done this before?” Temper asks, handing me a life jacket.
“Uhh, no,” I say, putting it on, and then pick up one of the paddles. “What if it tips over?”
The water is extremely dark, and who knows what the hell could be down there?
“It won’t,” he promises. “And I can do the paddling if you want. You can just relax and enjoy the ride.”
The man gives us a few instructions, and then helps us get into the canoe.
After that, we’re on our own.
I’m not sure about this whole thing at the start—the paddling is harder than I thought it was going to be—but once we’re out for a few minutes I start to relax and take in the breathtaking scenery in front of us.
“The water is like a mirror,” I say to him from the front, where I’m sitting. All of the trees near the shore are reflected on the still water, and it’s such a beautiful sight.
“I know, it’s beautiful, isn’t it? Like glass,” he agrees, paddling skills much better than mine. “When you look down, it’s kind of trippy, because it looks like the trees are underwater.”
“Or like another dimension,” I say, unable to look away. We paddle together for about an hour, seeing birds and simply enjoying the view before we turn the canoe back around.
“I like coming here when I need to think. You can stop paddling if you want,” he says to me. “You relax. I can take care of it.”
My brow furrows. “Are you telling me to stop paddling because it’s easier for you if I don’t?” I’ll admit that every time I paddle, I go too far left or right and we almost hit the bank, but still, I’m putting in some effort and trying here.
I hear his laughter from behind me. “Maybe.”
“Fine.” I smirk, lifting my paddle up and letting him do all the work while I relax. “I have a blister on my hand anyway.”
“Do you?” he asks, sounding concerned. “Definitely don’t paddle then. I don’t want you hurting your hands.”
“It’s fine,” I say. I kind of feel like Pocahontas when she’s going down the river, singing “Just Around the Riverbend.”
“We should play some music,” I say out loud. “The Pocahontas soundtrack would be so good right now, don’t you think?”
Temper is silent for a few moments, and then the song I was humming in my head is suddenly playing from his phone, and I feel like I’m in my own Disney movie, singing along loudly and wishing I had a talking raccoon with me.
“How did you know this was the song I was referring to?” I ask, turning around and looking at him.
“‘Just around the riverbend,’” he sings, arching his brow like come on, it’s obvious.
“I’m surprised you know this song at all.”
“I have two nieces and a nephew, remember?” he fires back, singing along to the next few lines too. I’m not going to lie, I’m impressed. I never