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“Well, I’ll just be going,” I cut in, taking a step toward the elevator.

“Oh.” Audrey focused on me for the first time, and I had to admit that her smile was charming. “I’m sorry. I didn’t notice you there. I was worried about my daughter running off and-”

“I didn’t run off.” Christine sounded exasperated, even though that was exactly what she did. “And this is Heather.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Audrey.” She held her hand out, and I took note of the diamond bracelet on her wrist.

Shaking her hand, I smiled as if I didn’t just screw her ex-husband a few hours ago. As exciting as the sneaking around behind Audrey’s back was, I couldn’t help feeling awkward.

“I’m Heather. I know she already said that, but yeah. Heather McCarty at your service.”

Oh God. What was wrong with me? Why did my mouth always have to run away from me like this when I was nervous?

Audrey’s smile stayed in place, but I could see that she thought I was a weirdo. I couldn’t exactly fault her for that.

Christine just looked amused.

Releasing Audrey’s hand, I took another step toward the elevator. “Well, I’m going to head up to my room. It’s getting late.”

It really wasn’t, but neither of them called me out on that. Luckily, the elevator opened at that moment. A couple of men stepped off, and I got inside, pressing the button for my floor before giving Audrey and Christine an awkward wave.

As the doors closed, I let out a long breath and collapsed against the back wall of the elevator. It had been one hell of an evening, and my emotions were all over the place. All I wanted to do was relax, starting with a long, hot shower when I reached my room.

But right after I got out and pulled on my pajamas, there was a knock on my door.

Chapter Ten: Greyson

The hallway was empty as I stood outside Heather’s door, waiting for her to answer. It wasn’t too late—just after nine p.m.—so I hoped she wasn’t out. It was bad enough that I talked myself into turning up at her door. Hunting her down somewhere on the island would be going too far.

But damn it, I wanted her again.

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what she felt like beneath me since she snuck out the back of my bungalow.

My annoyance with Audrey was at its peak when I realized that she was knocking at my door so insistently because she wanted me to come meet a few women she’d made friends with while snorkeling. They happened to be Bobcats fans, and she wanted to show me off. I usually just ignored her when she called me her husband, but when she introduced me to the women that way, I corrected her in a firm voice that pissed her off and made the encounter awkward as hell.

Only Christine seemed unaffected by the tension in the air after that, and I caught sight of a smile she was trying to hide.

My daughter loved her mother, but she was also losing patience for Audrey’s shenanigans when it came to our divorce. I never talked to her about my frustrations with Audrey, but she was getting older, and she picked up on things like that.

In the end, I dealt with the awkwardness of the encounter by mostly chatting with Christine about the fish she saw while snorkeling, letting Audrey carry the conversation with her new friends on her own.

But in the back of my mind, I couldn’t stop thinking about Heather and how I wouldn’t have had to rush her out of the bungalow if Audrey hadn’t interrupted us.

Then, after dinner, Christine and Audrey went to their own bungalow, and I was alone in mine. The bedroom smelled like sex and even looking at the front door made me think of how good it felt to have Heather in my arms. My attraction to her hadn’t dimmed in the least from having her. There was no scratching the itch and moving past it.

I needed more of her.

The door of Heather’s room opened, and my throat felt tight as I took her in. It wasn’t a passionate response but something softer, more like a rush of affection that I didn’t see coming.

She was framed in the doorway with wet hair and pink skin, like she’d just taken a hot shower. She wore a pair of blue pajama pants covered in a hundred images of Yoda’s face, and her white tank top said STAR WARS across her chest.

It was clear she wasn’t wearing a bra, but despite how hot that was, I found my gaze moving down to where her bare toes peeked out from beneath the hem of her pajama pants. They were painted pink like the streaks in her hair and the sundress she wore earlier. I was starting to notice a pattern.

“Hi,” she said with a small smile. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

That was more honest than I had planned. When I knocked on her door, I had a vague idea that I would say something charming or seductive, anything that would get me invited into her bed, but the way she looked right now derailed the plan. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to sleep with her—of course I did—but she looked so relaxed and happy to see me that it made me think of what it would be like to just hang out with her.