Free Kiss & Spell by Kris Eton

"Thanks!" She took off running down the gravel road. If she didn't act quickly, she'd lose Justin out on that big expanse of blue water. She'd thought for sure she'd gotten there early enough to track him down, but she'd found his campsite a few minutes too late. The campfire was still smoldering when she'd pulled up.
    Oh, how she wished she could use her magic right now and whisk herself out to his boat , but there were too many people around. She'd have to go the human route: rent a boat, follow him, and give him a believable explanation for her actions the other night.
     
     
    A few minutes later, Marissa directed her blue-and-white swan paddleboat to follow Justin. It had been the only option at the rental place. Ridiculous looking, but it worked.
    Justin was little more than a silver blip on the horizon.
    Her legs already burned. At this rate, she'd be pedaling all day to catch up with him. She pumped her legs, and water churned underneath her feet. For a moment she panicked. Only a few inches of hard plastic lay between her and the depths of Clear Lake.
    "Get a grip, Marissa."
    She pedaled harder and focused her attention on the beauty around her . . . the distant mountains, the pine trees that ringed the edges of the lake, the gentle lap-lap of the water against the sides of her sturdy little boat. She'd be caught up in no time.

Chapter Thirteen
    Justin hauled in his third bass of the day. The limit was ten, which meant he could stay out on the lake for the rest of the morning. His mind focused on one thing: fishing. It was good to be focused. Good to think only about his line, his lure, and the best place to put them in the water.
    He looked up. The sun still rode low in the sky. Midday was several hours away and with the clouds drifting in from the mountains, the conditions were near perfect to catch a big one. He switched out lures, picked a spot near a particularly large, sunken tree limb, and . . . .
    "Justin!"
    The woman’s shout shattered his concentration. He let loose his line, and it sailed too close to the limb, snagging on a branch which stuck out above the surface. "Shit." He glared across the blue-green water at the plastic monstrosity coming toward him.
    "Justin, I need to talk to you."
    "Marissa?" He curved a hand over his eyes, but all he could make out was a dark shape inside a blue-and-white plastic swan as big as a compact car. "Jesus, what in the hell . . . ?" How did she find him here? This was supposed to be his no-women weekend. As she approached, there was an instant heaviness in his groin. Goddamn his cock for not remembering that.
    The paddleboat kicked up foam and water. She attempted to steer the unwieldy vessel with the bicycle handles that served as a steering device, but ending up ramming the back of his boat. The water didn’t quite muffle the sickening crunch. "John told me where you'd be, and I had to talk to you."
    "Go back, Marissa. I don't know why you wasted your time finding me. Am I really so much better than Mr. Tank Top? There're plenty of guys back at the pub. You don't need me." He jerked on his fishing rod to dislodge the lure stuck in the branch.
    "Mr. Tank Top? What are you talking about?" She gripped the edge of his boat to keep hers from drifting away. "I wanted to explain."
    "You don't need to explain." He tugged harder. "I get it. I knew what you were before we ever got together. I knew it wouldn't last. It was my own fault."
    "You knew what I was? What was that, exactly?" She leaned out of her boat, gripping the slippery edge of his metal boat. A pretty brave stance for someone who couldn't swim.
    A speedboat flew by just yards away. A huge wake rolled in their direction. Before he could put down his rod and reach out for her, Marissa was flung off her paddleboat and into the murky lake. Justin dove in after her. In a matter of moments he'd wrapped one arm around her waist and tugged her above the surface. She sputtered, water exploding out of her mouth.
    "Are you