Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Wow. This guy’s batting a thousand.
“Yes, well, California is not alone in that,” Lennix murmurs.
“But archeologists found evidence of them still being here and using elements of their culture years after the missions were gone. Some of them, at least, managed to survive and continue their practices while modernizing.”
“Ahem,” I interrupt and give him a meaningful glance. “I think we’re all set and I can take it from here.”
“Thank you, Callum,” Lennix says, offering a genuine smile, which he returns before making his way back up the pier.
“Were you afraid I would lecture poor Callum on Drake’s imperialism and probable exploitation of the Miwok tribe?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
Her rich, throaty laugh that always seduces me rings out over the quiet bay. “You’re probably right. Now what’s up with the boating? Isn’t it getting too dark for that?”
She’s right. The sun has almost completely set, and darkness blankets the horizon. A few other people come down the pier in groups with a guide instructing them and outfitting them with life jackets.
“We don’t need a guide?” she asks, eyeing the people climbing into kayaks and paddling out onto the water.
“I’m our guide.”
“Are you sure we’ll be safe?” she asks, half-teasingly.
“I’ll always protect you.” Our gazes hold in the little light provided by the footlights along the pier, and the conversation from the car hangs between us.
“I know,” she replies softly, the tightness around her mouth loosening. I kiss her hair and take her hand.
“Let’s go.” I nod toward not a kayak but a small motorboat.
“Why not a kayak?”
“They’re in groups and can look out for each other if someone falls in,” I tell her. “We’re going to venture off on our own some. The motorboat is a little safer.”
“Ahh. Your master plan to get me alone is revealed.”
“I’m never subtle about getting you alone,” I say, exchanging a quick grin with her. “Get in.”
We get settled and strike out on the water. After a few minutes, I cut the motor and allow the boat to drift and the nocturnal beauty of our surroundings to speak. The quiet takes up the small wedge of space between us, broken only by the low murmur of the guides assisting groups a few feet away.
“Tell me about this place,” she says after a few moments. “I know you know more than you’ve shared.”
“And how do you know that?”
“You’re an explorer.” She tilts a small smile at me. “An expeditioner. You don’t go to places completely unprepared.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Tell me why you brought me here. What did you want to show me?”
“A few times a month, there are moonless nights. It’s the darkest on those nights.”
“The sky is so dark,” she says, reclining in the hull of the boat and tipping her head back to stare at the hypnotic swirl of stars overhead. It’s a cathedral sky at night, lit with starry sconces and cosmic candelabra. “It makes the stars brighter.”
My girl who chases stars.
“It’s because there’s less light pollution here than in most places,” I tell her. “And they protect this bay from mixing with other water sources, which keeps the water free of pollution in a way most aren’t. The combination of the really dark sky and the really clear water creates perfect conditions for a unique phenomenon.”
She looks around as if wondering what’s so phenomenal about a bunch of people kayaking in the dark. I grin, secretly relishing the chance to show her, and take a paddle from the boat floor to run it through the water. Immediately, trails of light flare under the surface. Her startled gasp is followed by an uncharacteristic giggle.
I hand her a paddle. “You try.”
She dips the paddle in, stroking slowly through the water, watching it shimmer, lighting it up.
“Oh my gosh.” She covers her mouth, laughter leaking between her fingers. “That’s freaking amazing.”
All around us, the tour groups drag their paddles through the water, and soon, there’s so much light shining beneath the surface, we’re floating on sunbeams, rainbows, underwater solar flares.
“It’s beautiful.” She swings her head from side to side and peers over her shoulder, taking it in. “What is it?”
“Do you want to appreciate the beauty or know the boring part that makes it beautiful?”
“Is it boring to you?”
“No, it fascinates me.”
“Then you’ll make it fascinating for me.”
“It’s called bioluminescence, which is basically when an organism produces light based on various factors, depending on the species.”
“That’s a very sexy brain you’ve got there, Mr. Cade.”
I wink at her. “Be a good girl and I’ll let you touch it.”
“Ew.” She scrunches up her face. “You had to go and make it weird.”
“It’s what I do. So dinoflagellates are here in Tomales Bay, and they produce light when disturbed. A paddle or fingers running through the water or other fish swimming past or brushing against them or even just the boat cutting through the water could set off the light.”