Impossible Love: An Unforeseen Destiny Novel Book One

by Kimberly Readnour

  “I love you too, sweetie.”

  “This whole island is remarkable,” I say as we drive along Highway 56. “Everything is so green.”

  And it is. Different shades of green from the varying plants line the highway. I remove my sunglasses and place them in the console to see clearer. I can’t seem to get enough of these colors.

  “Yeah,” Mom says, and then sighs. In a faint voice, she adds, “I’ve missed this place.”

  My head snaps to the left. “What? You’ve been here before?”

  Her gaze flashes to me momentarily before returning to the road. She presses her lips together and shifts in her seat before clearing her throat.

  “Um, yeah. A long time ago. I was pretty young. It was one of my early photo assignments.”

  I’m not sure why this makes her nervous. What would it matter if her gig brought her to the island? Mom’s always flying to different parts of the country. Her job as a freelance photographer always has her traveling. When the shoots require her to visit the neighboring states, I used to tag along with her, thus developing my passion for nature. Woods, mountains, or prairies, it doesn’t matter where we go, I love it all.

  “You’ve never told me this was one of your adventures. So, you should know where to go then.”

  “Somewhat‌…‌it’s been a while.” She flashes me a mischievous smile. “I know where all the good spots are, though.”

  I don’t respond as we continue along the scenic drive. I turn and stare out the passenger window and enjoy the sights.

  A few missed turns later, we arrive at the kayaking tour parking lot. It’s no wonder we kept missing the location. The dilapidated wooden fence surrounding the place hardly screams “open for business.”

  Mom pulls forward through the open gate, and I scrunch my face in disgust. The establishment seems like a junky residential home, not a place to conduct business. My stomach plummets as the thought of being scammed crosses my mind. We enter what appears to be the back side of the building. The structure, along with every single house along the street, is built on stilts. Hmm‌…‌how often does the river reach this area? Or are they concerned about the ocean?

  “You think I park over there?” Mom asks, pointing to the flattened, weed-patched area.

  I glance at the muddy grass and nod. “Yeah, I suppose. You’d think they’d have gravel down. Or signs.”

  Rather small in size, the place isn’t impressive, but then again, how much space does one need to store kayaks and take money? I suppose on an island every square inch counts for something.

  “You park over there‌…‌go over there,” a shrill voice calls out.

  Mom and I jerk our heads to the screeching sound. A curly-haired lady appears from underneath the house structure, pointing and yelling at the muddy field area. Her wild hair bobs up and down with every hand gesture.

  Mom waves at her and pulls the car into the designated spot as the woman returns to a makeshift desk tucked beneath the dwelling. Mom throws the car into park, and we burst into laughter when our gaze connects.

  “This is quite the establishment,” Mom says as we exit the car.

  “Yes, it’s something all right.”

  We both scan the surrounding area, but Mom chews her bottom lip as if she’s nervous. I know kayaking isn’t her thing and she’s only doing this for me, but I didn’t think she’d be this apprehensive. She doesn’t say anything and strolls toward the scary lady. I hang back to enjoy the sun beaming down. The brightness spreads its warmth across my skin, and I feel like a cat soaking up the sun rays. I’m so content; I could almost purr. Who wouldn’t like perfect temperatures of the upper seventies with comfortable humidity? We don’t get this back home. Ever. With elevated temps, the humidity is so high it’s unbearable. I bite back a sigh. Why can’t I live in a perfect place like this?

  Mom grabs the waterproof bag and lunch tote and places them on a picnic table. I stroll over to her and pull out the sandwiches from the plastic sack. A group of people arrives while we repack our lunch into the nylon cooler. I bite my lip, trying to suppress a smile at one particular couple who joins us at the table. Honeymooners. They have to be. They keep gazing into each other’s eyes, and their sickeningly sweet smiles are nauseating. Another couple appears older, probably around Mom’s age. I’m guessing in their forties. Another couple standing off by themselves are probably in their thirties. The group’s diversified, that’s for sure.

  I glance at Mom, and she’s scanning the area as if looking for someone. My forehead wrinkles as I stare at her.

  “Is someone supposed to be joining us?”

  Mom’s gaze cuts to me, and fear crosses her eyes. “No. Who would be here?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug. “It just seems like you keep searching for someone.”

  “No, I’m just taking in the scenery.” Mom hands me a black rubber-like bag and points to the camera. “This is the dry bag. Please make sure the camera stays safe.”

  “Believe me, I know. You’ll kill me if this gets ruined.” I chuckle, dropping my concern to focus on her crazy expensive equipment. I place the camera into the bag and pause.

  “Only eight today?” the deepest, sexiest voice I’ve ever heard says.

  Chills. Literally, chills zing along my skin. Holy cow, please tell me his looks match that sexy-ass voice. Please. I slowly turn to find my answer.

  It matches.

  My breath catches in my throat. A tall, muscular-framed body stands about twenty feet away, and all I can do is stare.

  My hands squeeze the rubberized material. I have to stop this urge to embrace him and trace my fingers through the barely visible waves in his short, dark-brown hair. My gaze lowers to his body. The charcoal-gray T-shirt covering his chest accentuates his perfectly tanned skin. He appears flawless, standing there in his khaki, cargo-style shorts. My gaze wanders back up his torso, and I can’t help questioning what he’ll look like without any fabric covering him. I suddenly want his shirt gone so I can‌…‌I can what? I squeeze the bag tighter. I cannot touch him, for chrissake! What the heck?

  Ashamed, I force myself to turn back to the table, and I glance at Mom. She raises her eyebrows at me and smirks.

  “Looks like the foliage isn’t the only thing adding beauty to the island.”

  “Mom!” I say in a harsh whisper, glancing at the honeymooners. They’re too engaged with each other to have heard Mom. I think.

  I swipe the dangling car keys from her fingers and ignore the sudden warmth invading my cheeks. She chuckles as I add them to the dry bag and shift my efforts on the proper way to close it. My hands fumble with the closure while Mom stifles another laugh.

  The hot tour guide moves to an open grassy field area. His sexy voice rings through the air as he calls everyone to join him in a circle. Mom keeps her mouth pressed tight as she looks at me, but the impish sparkle in her eyes gives her thoughts away. She’s so enjoying my embarrassment. I shake my head and try to ignore the second wave of warmth flooding my face.

  “Behave,” I whisper, making our way to the group.

  “Kayla, can you hold this for a second?” Mom hands me the lunch tote and repositions her baseball hat.

  “Good morning, everyone. My name is Kai Hale, but if you can’t remember when we’re out on the river, just call me anything, I’ll answer.”

  He smiles, and my gaze drops to his mouth. His perfect mouth with lips that are neither too small nor too large. Watching them move, I wonder what it would feel like to have those lips on my own. Would he be a passionate or aggressive kisser? Or a combination of both? It’s not like I’m an expert in the field, but it doesn’t stop me from picturing those lips upon me.

  “There’s only eight of us today, so my job will be easier,” he says jokingly, smiling even wider.

  The group’s laughter breaks my trance, and I turn away, face fully inflamed. I try to ignore the flurry of emotions his smile causes.

  Gah. What am I thinking? Perhaps Staci is
rubbing off on me. I need to concentrate on his instructions or else I’ll probably drown. But if I capsize, then wouldn’t hot tour-guide Kai have to save me? No, don’t go there. Concentrate.

  “Does anyone here have any experience?” Kai asks.

  A few hands raise, but I make sure to keep mine down. I don’t know squat about kayaking other than the oars go into the water, and I don’t want to tip over.

  “Good, not a lot. I actually prefer people not to have experience,” Kai says.

  His dark brown eyes scan the crowd and lands upon mine. Kai’s speech pauses, and a hint of confusion crosses his face. It happens so quickly; I think I imagined it. Or, it means nothing, because he looks away and talks about maneuvering the kayak.

  “When the kayak veers to the left, place your left oar in the water and paddle…”

  Kai keeps talking, but his words become jumbled in my brain. What the hell? There’s a crapload of cute guys crawling all over Purdue’s campus. I don’t understand what makes him so special.

  I force myself not to look at him as he continues with the instructions‌—‌the possible life-saving instructions. But damn, even the sound of his voice keeps doing weird things to my insides.

  I mentally shake off these stupid feelings and glance at him. Kai isn’t paying any attention to me. In fact, he won’t even look me. He asks a question and seeks approval from every individual. But me. When Kai’s gaze lands on the person to my left, he skips over me to Mom. How stupid am I to be lusting over this boy? It’s clear the attraction isn’t mutual.

  Chapter Six

  Kai~

  I glance at the group scheduled for the next tour and mentally calculate eight people. With only five minutes before instructions begin, my gut tightens at the prospect of the other couple canceling. I meander over to McKenna and she shakes her head, confirming my fear.

  “Only eight today,” I ask.

  “The last couple canceled.”

  I nod and try to remain expressionless. I don’t want my disappointment to show, but damn, this tour needed to be full. Tomorrow’s tour isn’t full either. By working on commission, rent may be hard to come up with this month if I don’t make my full wages. I suppress a sigh. I suppose my tips for the rest of the week will determine how hard a hit my savings account will endure.

  McKenna flashes me a reassuring smile and hands over the itinerary comprising the group names I’ll be guiding along the Wailua River.

  “It looks like you’ll have a decent group today, though. Everyone seems nice.”

  “Thanks,” I say. At least there’s that. In the past, I’ve been tempted to lead a few arrogant groups down a wrong turn. And after spending last night half awake with Bethany, I’m ready for a hassle-free day.

  A quick scan shows the usual crowd: the honeymooners, the adventure-seekers, the elderly couple, and the lesbians. Wait‌…‌that’s different. My gaze reverts to the girl whose back is facing me. The long, dark hair pulled into a ponytail suggests the girl is younger than the woman standing in front of her‌—‌presumably the lady’s daughter, perhaps more my age. Unwittingly, my view drops to the girl’s legs and the jean shorts that cuts off right below her tight ass. I swallow down the growl threatening to escape and picture those lean, skinny poles wrapped around me. Shit, what the hell am I thinking? I drag my chin down and order myself to read the itinerary. John Cox would fire my ass if he thought I was ogling his customers, especially after Hagan’s incident a few years back. Almost being sued over his employee having sex with the customer’s underage daughter caused a huge policy change. In Hagan’s defense, he had no idea she was underage. The charges were dropped, but John continues to make sure we stay in line.

  I sneak another glance. Damn, I’m a sucker for lengthy legs.

  Unable to help myself, I skim to the two girls’ names and hold back a sigh. My detective skills suck. The information helps somewhat‌—‌the two last names are the same, Cannon. But with Kayla and Cara as the first names, I’m not sure who’s the youngest. I shake my head and waltz to the open grassy area to direct everyone’s attention. Knowing who the girl is or anything about her doesn’t matter. She’s a customer. End of discussion.

  “Good morning, everyone. If we can all form a circle, we’ll get started.” I stand in an open area and wait for the group to get positioned.

  Kayla and Cara join the circle last, the older of the two standing to the left of me. “Kayla, can you hold this for a second?” the older lady asks.

  Okay then, that’s settled. The sweet ass belongs to Kayla. Happy to have that resolved, I scan the group before beginning.

  “My name is Kai Hale, but if you can’t remember when we’re out on the river, just call me anything, I’ll answer.”

  I go into my usual spiel and ask if anyone has kayaking experience. A few hands raise, and like clockwork, I go right into my “preferably non-experienced” speech. I need to gauge everyone’s skill level, so I analyze their facial expressions while I ask specific questions. People reveal so much about themselves through non-verbal communication.

  I assess each individual, but my body stills when my gaze lands on a pair of piercing cobalt-blue eyes. The hue is so striking; they’re almost violet. I pull my head back slightly as my speech trails off. Hmm‌…‌I’ve seen that particular shade of eye color before. I shake away my confusion and try to ignore the neglected wisps of dark hair framing her face. A seemingly perfect face.

  “Um, so when you’re out on the river and the kayak veers to the left, which side do you place the oars?” I ask.

  I await an answer, but no one volunteers the correct information. I then explain the proper oar placement and steal another glimpse at Kayla. For her height, her facial features are petite‌—‌high cheekbones, straight little nose. Damn, she’s beautiful. My eyes are drawn to her full lips. Those perfectly kissable lips beg me to violate them. Whoa, don’t go there, Kai.

  My mind races as I continue with the impromptu lessons. I need to stay focused, but my gaze drops to those long legs again. Images of her naked body lying beneath me with those thighs embedded around my hips parade through my mind. My cock tightens and strains against my shorts in response. That snaps me out of my fantasy. Quick. What the hell is wrong with me? This island isn’t short of beautiful girls, both locals and tourists. There’s no need to allow this particular one to mess with my job.

  I adjust my stance and strategically place the clipboard to conceal a certain body part. I clear my throat and continue with the instructions. It’s probably best I don’t look at her, at least until I feel confident no one will drown.

  “Okay, any more questions?” I ask, carefully assessing everyone’s response. Everyone except Kayla. No way am I looking at her. The transport van pulls into the driveway, and I take a deep breath and slowly exhale. The quicker this tour is over, the better. “Okay, if there aren’t any more questions, then follow me, and we’ll head to the river.”

  I grip the clipboard tighter and lead the group to the van. Pulling the side door open, I nod at the driver, Paul.

  “Right on schedule,” I say to Paul as everyone piles inside. I’m glad he’s here. He’ll make a good distraction and keep me focused on the task at hand.

  “The rains last night may make for an interesting day,” he says, trying to hide his grin.

  “Yeah, I know. The trail was just starting to dry, too.”

  There’s a short stretch of the trail that turns to thick mud if it rains too much. Yesterday wasn’t too bad, and people enjoyed trudging through the muck. Today may turn interesting, depending on how deep people sink.

  Kayla slides to the middle seat, and the last person enters behind her. Bob, the older gentleman, takes his sweet time settling beside her. He eyes her legs the entire time. Then he has the audacity to breathe deeply and shudder. Fucking pervert. He’s here with his wife. How about paying attention to her, not someone half your age? My jaw clenches as I slam the door shut. With too much force, I swing the pa
ssenger door open and ignore Paul’s surprised look. He doesn’t say anything as I climb into the passenger seat and take a few calming breaths. I need to relax before asking the basic get-to-know-everyone questions. This tour is supposed to be fun-filled. I don’t want to ruin everyone’s day with my‌…‌my anger? Jeez, calm down. There’s no need for me to be this upset.

  “Is this everyone’s first time to the island?” I ask after finally coming to my senses.

  Paul throws the van into reverse as the honeymoon couple, occupying the last row of seats, answers first. The adventure-seekers pipe up, mumbling about their third trip to the island when Paul shifts the gear to drive. We proceed forward when the elderly couple’s wife says this trip is their second time visiting.

  I shift in my seat and notice Kayla’s mom staring out the window, lost in thought. Her stare is almost haunting, and I briefly wonder what demons she possesses. Twisting a bit more, I make direct eye contact with Kayla. Her mother forgotten, I fall silent and wait for her answer.

  She hesitates slightly while holding my gaze. “This is my first time to the island.”

  She doesn’t add any information, and my usual follow-up questions get swallowed by her stare, No one else in the van exists while her eyes hold me captive.

  “How long are you here?” The question flies out of my mouth before I can stop it. I sense Paul’s questionable look, but I shrug off his concern. I need to know how long she’s staying. Why I don’t know, but I’m curious as hell.

  “Three weeks,” she mumbles, a tinge of pink flooding her cheeks.

  Three weeks. Three very short weeks, then she’ll be gone‌—‌Kauai, a diminishing memory in the back of her mind. My stomach rolls. I’m not sure why her leaving bothers me so much, but the fact reinforces that I need to get my head together.