The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

He got up off the bench, handed me the lotion, and went down the steps into the galley, returning with two bottles of beer and the lunch his chef had prepared for us. He sat on the bench seat across from me, and as we ate, we sailed up the coast, keeping an eye on the shore for . . . something. Any kind of clue as to what Jillian and Lucas had been doing out here.

I played with the zipper of the insulated koozie wrapped around my beer bottle. “Can I ask you something? It’s about your dad.”

Vance’s clear eyes turned stormy. “What is it?”

“I’m wondering why you haven’t apologized.”

His mood rapidly declined, and he took a long sip of his beer, rather than answer me.

“Hey, look,” I said. “It’s probably none of my business, and I know you said it’s complicated, but just hear me out for a second.” I filled my voice with gravity. “You only get so much time with people before they’re gone. There’s nothing you can do to change that or buy it back.”

His posture stiffened. “I’m aware.”

He was defensive, but I wasn’t going to let it deter me. “I’d do anything to have more time with my dad. I’m sure it’s the same with you for your mom.” His expression shifted, softening, confirming I was right. “What I’m getting at is nothing is certain. He could be gone tomorrow, and then you’ll never get the chance to make it right. You’ll spend the rest of your life wishing you’d had more time.”

Vance’s chest lifted as he took in an enormous breath, but he couldn’t seem to find words.

“Or maybe something happens to you,” I continued. “You told me he wants to forgive you. Do you want to take that opportunity from him?”

“Emery, it’s not that simple.”

“It could be.” I leaned forward, bringing us closer. “You just have to try.”

“Are you finished?”

I had no idea if he meant with the conversation or my lunch, but I pretended it was the latter. I nodded and stood, reaching for our plates that rested on the table between us, but he abruptly shot to his feet. His hand went out, latching on my wrist and causing me to halt.

“I’m sorry.” He stared at where he had hold of me, and his voice was more uneven than I’d ever heard it. “I let so much time go by, and now it’s . . . hard.”

There was so much he wasn’t saying, but I understood. All the shame and resentment had twisted inside him, creating something new and terrible, and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

“I know, but it’s not too late,” I said.

His face lifted and searched mine like he wanted proof that what I’d said was true. I didn’t have proof, only hope and a gut feeling, but maybe that was enough.

Behind him, the rocky shore drifted by, and something glinted, stealing my focus. I squinted, trying to zero in on the flash that had been there one moment and then was gone.

“What is that?”

I pointed over his shoulder to the rocks just as the tiny light winked at us again. He turned, peering off at the rocks but not seeing anything.

“There!” I said when the thing glinted again. “Did you see it?”

“Yeah.”

It only took him a minute to change direction, and as we began to motor toward the shore, I stood at the side of the ship, holding my hat in place. The flashing had no discernable pattern to it, so it didn’t seem to be an actual light.

“It’s a reflector,” Vance said when we got closer.

Sure enough, I could make out the small silver disc attached to one of the taller rocks that jutted out of the water.

He shut off the engine when we were one hundred and fifty yards from shore and worked to drop anchor. “I’m going to check it out.”

“Can I come too, or do I need to stay with the boat?”

He undid the latches, folding down the swim platform at the back, revealing steps and a folded ladder. “No, you can come. She’ll be fine.”

She, meaning Favorite. I took off my shorts, hat, and sunglasses, and glanced at the reflector again. Beyond it, the water lapped at the shoreline and the rocky hill that wasn’t quite tall or steep enough to call a cliff. The silver disc had been placed here to mark something . . . but what?

When we were both ready, Vance jumped in the water first. He treaded in the waves, running a hand over his hair, and slinging back water as he stared up, waiting for me to join him.

I was hot from the sun, and I was sure he’d say the water was warm, but it still took my breath when I jumped in. But I rubbed the briny saltwater from my eyes and followed him as he swam toward the stump of rock.