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It’s not my business, though.
I need to stay out of it.
They’re not mine.
But when Cade’s shoulders slump in defeat and Yasmin’s face suddenly crumples in a torrent of tears as she turns away from him and flees toward the rapidly darkening beach, I can’t help but follow when Cade runs after her. I can even justify it, since they’re on my property, resort property, and they’re headed in the direction of one of the areas still off-limits due to the storm damage.
But, if I’m honest, my responsibilities as resort owner are the last thing on my mind. Something clearly went wrong, and this couple is hurting. If it’s in my power, I want to see them happy again.
And if I’m truly honest, I want to be a part of making them happy again.
Chapter 4
Cade
* * *
Damn.
Damn, damn, damn.
This was supposed to be such a nice evening—it was such a nice evening, until… whatever that was. Even now, hurrying after Yaz while she runs down the beach, I’m not exactly sure what went wrong. One minute, we were talking about hiking or snorkeling or whatever the planned excursions are for tomorrow, Yaz asking which activity we should choose, and the next, all hell broke loose just because I said I’d be happy to do whichever she was most excited about.
I was trying to be a good boyfriend, and honestly, anything sounds good to me as long as she’s there, too. But suddenly, she was in tears and I… well, I definitely hadn’t been as patient as I could’ve been, but constantly having her push me to be the one to decide things gets old.
And now here we are, surrounded by literal paradise and so frustrated with each other that we can’t even enjoy it… and I don’t know how to fix it, no matter how hard I try.
I think the most frustrating part is that I know Yaz is trying, too.
No, that’s not the most frustrating part. Most of the time, I’m not even sure what the problem truly is, or if it’s even something that is fixable. It always seems like the little things that blow up between us, like just now, just aren’t important enough to tear us apart. I mean, seriously. Snorkeling versus hiking? Who cares, as long as we’re together. Except obviously I’m missing something, or my girlfriend wouldn’t be in tears right now, and that’s the most frustrating part. The idea that nothing meaningful is actually wrong, but that all these little, meaningless problems are slowly eclipsing everything good between us.
“Yaz,” I call after her, cupping my hands to my mouth to make my voice carry over the surf that’s crashing over the beach. “Baby, wait. Please!”
If she’d just turn around. Or slow down. Or tell me why everything imploded just now, so I can at least try to fix it.
“Shit,” I curse under my breath as I nearly stumble in the sand. These tropical nights fall fast, and even with a full moon rising, it’s getting dark.
Either Yasmin doesn’t hear me or she’s too upset to care. Ahead of me, I see her duck under some kind of caution tape, heading straight toward a jetty, the long wooden walkway jutting far out into the water and no doubt a totally beautiful place to enjoy this little slice of paradise for people who aren’t in the middle of a… fight? Crap. I don’t even know what we’re doing.
I’m also not entirely sure where she thinks she’s going, since we’re headed away from the resort. There’s nothing out here but empty beach and ocean.
“Where the hell are you going?” I shout, echoing my own thoughts and not entirely surprised when she doesn’t turn around. She can be pretty impulsive and hot headed, especially when she’s upset, but damn. Does she really have to go out in the middle of nowhere to get away from me? That hurts a little, and that’s beside the point that I’d much rather have this fight—or whatever it is—closer to dry land.
Yes, the island is beautiful, and no, the ocean doesn’t scare me… as long as it remains more of a picturesque background thing or includes carefully regulated safety measures, like with the snorkeling excursion we were talking about. But thanks to a slightly traumatic incident when I was young, I’m not a huge fan of being helpless and surrounded by large bodies of open water. And when Yasmin steps out onto that jetty, it sends a sharp spike of anxiety through me, because for all that the wooden walkway looks sturdy, it’s also hella long, going way out into the ocean, and in the dark…
Just, no.
“Jesus, Yaz,” I mutter, swallowing hard. Then I do my best to shake it off and shout after her. “Baby, wait for me! Can we stay on the beach, at least?”
She’s already halfway down the jetty, and doesn’t slow down. It looks like there’s a small hut or something at the end—a little shelter with a thatched roof, at least—but am I really going to follow her out there?
“Oh my God,” I mutter as I duck underneath the caution tape, forcing myself not to think too hard about where I’m headed as I follow in her footsteps, because yes, I am.
And I’m not the only one.
A low shout sounds behind me, and when I turn to look back over my shoulder, back down the beach toward the lights of the resort, I see someone following us.
Probably someone on the resort staff coming to yell at us for ignoring that damn tape or something.
