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But the rush of longing I felt for all of that was threaded with dread.

I wasn’t supposed to get attached like this. I’d stopped fighting the attraction because I’d convinced myself there was a deadline. When the vacation ended, so would whatever this was between us. Knowing that there was potential to grow our connection into something deeper and lasting thrilled me in a way that made me think I should be looking for an exit sign right about now.

I could already see this leading to a future that I never planned for with anyone again after I signed divorce papers two years ago, and that was as mind-boggling as it was panic-inducing.

“Greyson? Are you okay?”

I blinked and looked up from my now empty plate. I’d finished off my pie while lost in thought, and I didn’t know how long silence had stretched between us. Heather’s mouth was turned down in a slight frown.

“Uh… yeah.” My voice was rough, uncertain. “Yeah, I just spaced out for a moment.”

Her sharp green eyes stayed locked onto mine as if she was trying to see into my mind, and I quickly looked away, turning to the sink with my plate.

I could still feel her eyes on me as I rinsed my plate, and my body was hyperaware of hers as she came around the island. My shoulders knotted with tension as she came to stand beside me, silently handing over her plate so I could put both in the dishwasher.

Neither of us spoke, but it wasn’t the comfortable silence we shared out on the deck. I was spiraling—my thoughts a jumbled mess as I tried to sort out my feelings and what I truly wanted—and she could tell. She already knew me well enough to pick up on my internal conflict, even if she didn’t know exactly what I was thinking.

“So, I’d better go,” she said, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest as I dried my hands. “The bachelorette party is tonight, and Angela talked me into helping set it up. I’m sure she’s wondering where I am.”

I wanted to tell her I was sorry for making this awkward, but then I would have to explain what was going on in my head, and I needed to figure out what I wanted first. Sharing my desire for more with her and the conflicting dread that pooled in my stomach at the thought of getting serious with a woman didn’t seem fair. It would be dumping my mess in her lap, and she didn’t deserve that.

So I did the only thing I could do. I walked her to the door.

Stepping outside with her, I thought about how easy everything had been between us since the moment we met. I enjoyed being around her, but was it enough to make me put aside my belief that casual relationships are better for me?

I didn’t know.

But I knew I wanted to kiss her, so I did, my thumb running along her jaw as I brushed my lips over hers. Her eyes were warm but cautious. She cared about me, but she didn’t know where I stood.

That made two of us.

“I’ll see you later,” I said, promising nothing but knowing I’d seek her out when I was ready to have a much-needed conversation.

As she walked away from the bungalow, I looked next door, toward the one I rented for Audrey and Christine.

To my surprise, I met my daughter’s eyes. The two of them were back from their boat excursion and standing slightly down the concrete walkway leading to their bungalow. Audrey was chatting with yet more strangers that she probably met on the boat, and she hadn’t noticed me or Heather.

But Christine did.

Her eyes tracked Heather for a moment, her forehead creased and mouth in a tight line. I knew that she wasn’t used to seeing me with women since I never really dated after the divorce, and there was no reason to introduce any of my casual partners to my daughter. But I didn’t expect her to look unhappy to see me with someone.

Audrey said something to Christine then, and her attention shifted to her mother. I stepped back into the bungalow, not sure what to make of my daughter’s reaction. But I had a bad feeling.

Chapter Fourteen: Greyson

“It really is a shame that you won’t get on a boat, Grey,” Audrey said, waving her fork around as she gestured. “We saw dolphins in the water.”

“I’m sure that was magical, but not worth risking drowning.” I stuffed a French fry into my mouth as she rolled her eyes.

“So dramatic. Everyone was wearing life vests.”

“Ugly orange ones,” Christine chimed in. “That color looks terrible with the cool undertones in my complexion.”

I chuckled. “What were they thinking, choosing a high-vis color when it might clash with your undertones.”

Audrey laughed, and Christine’s lips twitched, but she fought it.

She’d been off all evening. We were eating a later dinner because she wanted to check out the resort’s family game room. It was on one of the upper floors, a huge room with glass walls on three sides, providing an amazing view of the island and surrounding ocean.