Chapter 11
It was early, the first pale strokes of light bleeding over the mountain range far behind them.
The bay shimmered, millions of tiny diamonds scattered across the surface, the water’s gentle lap a mere murmur.
The call of a lone seagull and the distant shouts of fishermen trading instructions were the only sounds drifting along the quiet arc of the shore.
She’d missed him yesterday. With a fierceness and depth that unsettled her. She kept catching herself searching for him — for just a glimpse, a reassurance he was still here — but he stayed away. Even the tucked-away table remained empty during breakfast service.
And all through the festivities she felt … not quite empty. Not exactly. More like incomplete.
As if he should’ve been beside her, sharing her world.
As if he somehow belonged in it.
But that was impossible. Wasn’t it?
Despite his words a few nights ago, she wasn’t worth him giving up the life he had. And God knew, she never wanted to step into his.
She drew in a slow breath, lifting her gaze toward the shoreline.
And there he was.
Already waiting for her, a solitary silhouette on the sand beside a sleek kayak.
He filled the black wetsuit like … well, like JK Kenzie.
It was impossible not to think of all the times she’d watched him appear on-screen, Navy SEAL, walking from the ocean …
only this time, he was walking toward her.
They met halfway. “Good morning, my sweet Suze,” he murmured, brushing a barely-there kiss on her lips, the faintest hint of mint on his breath. Before she could gather her thoughts enough to greet him, he added, “Let me take this from you.” He caught the kayak with practiced ease.
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
“My pleasure.” His gaze lingered on her in a way that warmed her skin. “You always look ravishing … but in a wetsuit?” A slow smile curved his mouth. “You steal my breath.”
Her heart stuttered. Dratted man. “Ready for the challenge?” she asked, trying for lightness while her pulse betrayed her.
He lowered the kayak in the damp sand beside his and his smile shifted into a wicked grin. “I’m already in the greatest challenge of my life,” he said. “But yes, I’m absolutely up for testing your prowess on the water.”
For the gazillionth time, she questioned the wisdom of suggesting this … outing. He was far too charming, far too smooth with his words. And the way he said them, so soft and sure, almost made her believe he meant every one.
Cold water washed over her feet, jolting her back to herself.
Time to get out on the open water and work off the restless energy buzzing beneath her skin.
Better to row it out than do something truly foolish …
like launch herself and kiss that charm right off his face.
She lifted her sunglasses in place, pulled her life jacket closed, securing the clasps, and tugged the spray skirt straight.
“Day’s wasting, mister movie star,” she called out, moving the vessel into ankle-deep water.
She steadied the kayak with one hand, stowed the small waterproof backpack with the other, lowered herself into the seat in one smooth motion, and stretched the skirt across the cockpit rim.
Paddle in hand, she dipped the first blade and pushed off, the gentle pull of the water welcoming her as she glided away from shore.
His laughter followed her, warm and unhurried.
It didn’t take long for him to pull alongside. “Where are we headed, by the way?”
She was relieved to see he’d donned a life jacket and secured a spray skirt. At least she wouldn’t have to help him bail water out of his kayak. “Cape Columbine. About seventy minutes of steady rowing in these conditions.”
The hum of an engine caught her attention. She glanced back. A small RIB trailed them, cutting a neat wake. His security detail. “I see we have company today.” They were usually excellent at blending into the background, but out on open water there was nowhere for them to disappear.
He offered an apologetic shrug. “They insisted. It wouldn’t do for JK Kenzie to drown on their watch.”
There wasn’t much she could say to that. Life of fame came with all kinds of shadows.
The ocean smelled of kelp and clean, wild things. Her muscles warmed into that familiar, welcome burn. The gentle sway of the kayak, the rhythmic dip of paddles cleaving water in time with their breaths … it settled her.
Justin didn’t chatter, and she appreciated the easy silence between them. Even more, he didn’t try to take over. He simply followed her lead as they skirted rocks, matching her adjustments when they veered around a floating log.
At one point, she slowed, pointing to a cluster of seals bobbing among the rocks. The mammals watched them with the flat, uninterested politeness of marine life, and they shared a laugh before continuing.
Normally, she came out here to think, to clear her head, to work her body hard enough to quiet the restlessness … to forget the aloneness of her life. Now, she admitted reluctantly, it was nice to share the water.
Especially with Justin.
The sun climbed higher, glare sharpening off the water. Traffic picked up, creating a soft background percussion: a yacht idling somewhere farther out, a fisherman’s engine ticking like a metronome, the drift of laughter from a family enjoying the beach before it grew hot and crowded.
“Suzette,” Justin called out, cutting the air with his paddle and making her look up, “race you to that outcrop?”
It took one look at his grin — boyish, slightly dangerous — and she forgot about straining muscles. “You’re on.”
She leaned forward, focusing on the paddle slicing through the water — left, right.
Justin crept ahead, slow, sure, and she dug in harder, arms burning.
His muscles shifted under the neoprene, smooth and powerful, and memory ambushed her: his hands on her hips, guiding her rhythm as she rode him, the way he strained beneath her as she shattered above him.
A hot flush tore through her, knocking her breath off-beat. Her rhythm broke. And she fell behind.
He noticed immediately. Cutting a sharp arc through the water, he executed a clean turn and drifted to a stop. Waiting for her. Grinning like a loon. “Come on, Suze. Don’t make me come back there and collect you.”
She drifted alongside, the kayaks bumping softly. Sunlight caught the drops of water on his face. One bead sliding slowly down his cheek, hovering at the curve of his upper lip. Something inside her snapped.
Before she could think, before she could stop herself, she reached across the narrow space, hooked her fingers into his life jacket, and yanked him closer.
And kissed him. Hard.
*
Surprise shot through him, leaving him momentarily discombobulated. And the minx used that split second to shove off and shoot forward, rowing like an Olympic medalist. He barked out a laugh. “Seriously? You ambush-kiss me and then run? Unfair! Completely unfair!”
He chased after her, laughing, exhilarated. Smitten. Utterly undone over her. And what a view she gave him — her blonde plait swinging down her back, the floral sleeves of her wetsuit catching the sun as her arms cut through the water in perfect rhythm. Right, left … strong, sure, beautiful.
Then she stopped and lifted a fist in the air, sharp, commanding. It was so reminiscent of one of his action-movie cues that he snorted. But he obeyed, easing off until his kayak drifted up beside hers.
His eyes skimmed the surface, but there was nothing but flat water.
Then, with a slow, breath-stealing grandeur, a dark back carved through the surface.
A whale. Beside it, smaller and impossibly sleek, rose a calf, close as a whispered secret.
The whale lifted its head in a slow, dignified rise and exhaled — an enormous, wet sigh that smelled of the sea and old, great things.
The calf rolled, bright-eyed, while its mother arced beside it in a display of effortless, ancient power.
The water undulated beneath them, shifting their kayaks sideways until the hulls bumped softly.
Justin held his breath. Suzette’s hand shot out and wrapped around his arm, fingers tight.
He glanced at her, unsure which sight mesmerized him more — the awe shining on her face, or the majestic ocean giant and her calf gliding through the morning like a blessing.
For a man whose life was noise and motion, all sets, scripts, cameras, and choreographed schedules, this moment felt impossibly pure.
No demands. No performance.
The simplicity of it — the beauty, the stillness, the rightness — pressed into him with the weight of truth, settling deep in a place he rarely let anything reach.
Then the whale slid back down, disappearing under the water.
“That was … magnificent.” Wonder lingered in her voice. “I watch them every season, one of the privileges of living here, but every time … every time their sheer beauty leaves me breathless.”
He reached down and caught her hand, the gesture instinctive. “You leave me breathless,” he murmured, lifting her palm to his lips.
“Justin.” She said his name like she wasn’t sure whether to pull away or fall straight into him.
“Have breakfast with me, sweet Suze?”
She took a long beat before answering. “I can’t. I have a busy day ahead. A shopping trip to Stellenbosch. Housework. It’s my last day off till the new year, Justin.”
He heard the regret in her tone. Heard the truth of it too. But he was greedy for time with her. “Maybe … I can come shopping with you?”
She let out an incredulous laugh. “Are you offering to push my grocery cart around?”
His pulse jumped. It wasn’t a no. “Sure. I can do that.”
“Okay, then.”
By unspoken agreement, they swung around and paddled back.
The return leg felt lighter, the kind of easy glide that came after something beautiful had settled inside them.
Their pace was unhurried, and the beach met them with the casual choreography of a rewinding scene, and they tugged the kayaks to dry sand.
He moved with purpose, stripping off his life jacket and kayak skirt in record time, dropping both to the sand without a glance.
Sunglasses bounced off the kayak ledge. Then he stopped in front of her and took control as her fingers fumbled with the snaps of her jacket.
They gave way easily under his touch, the bulky vest sliding off and thudding to the sand.
He pulled the spray skirt over her head, snagging her sunglasses, tossed both aside, and in the next breath he had her in his arms, kissing her senseless.
Everything in him snapped tight with want.
She tasted like salt and sunblock, her lips soft and warm.
Her response was immediate, as hungry as his, answering something in him he hadn’t realized had been starving.
Her fingers curled around his neck, pulling him closer, and the slick glide of her wetsuit against his sent a low thrill through his gut.
He deepened the kiss, tracing the seam of her lips. The world around them — water, sand, gulls, people — dropped away until there was only the woman in his arms and the pulse pounding in his veins.
When he finally drew back, their foreheads brushed, breath mingling, her eyes wide and beautifully dazed.
“That’s what happens,” he murmured, voice rough with delight, “when you kiss and run.”
She gulped in a hard breath. “And that was … punishment?”
“No.” His thumb brushed her cheekbone, slow and sure.
“Call it a prelude. Of more to come.” He swallowed, the truth rising before he could edit it into something safer.
“Suzette, I don’t know if you’ve realized this, but you’ve woken a part of me that’s been dormant for …
hell, forever. Waiting for this moment. This time. For … you.”
She stared at him, slack jawed. Then blinked. “What movie did that come from?”
He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “That’s not JK. That’s pure Justin.”
“It’s very … swoon worthy.”
“Then my task is done for the moment.”
“Well,” she managed, breath catching just a little, “maybe you can take up scriptwriting if the acting gig doesn’t work out for you.”
This woman … the things she said.
They went straight to all the places he had no defense for.
Before he could formulate an answer, one of her staff members approached, offering to take her kayak. She gave a grateful nod, and Justin stepped back, giving her space he very much didn’t want to give.
“I’ll pick you up in an hour?” he asked, aiming for casual and missing by a mile.
She arched a brow, the corner of her mouth curving. “How about I pick you up? In two hours.”
“Deal.”
He could hardly wait — grocery aisles and all.