Risky Business

I hadn’t even realized that’s what I was doing, but it’s plain as day now that we’re here.

Carson is a man who wants the best of himself at all times. And there’s nothing wrong with that if it’s to satisfy your own sense of self. But he worries about his father too much, pushing himself to meet an ideal that doesn’t even exist. He deserves better than that. He deserves happiness on his own terms.

“I’m not sure I can just decide to do that. Finding myself is a bit more complex than finding a shell.” He kneels down, picking up a small, flat scrap of a scalloped shell to demonstrate how easy that is.

I do the same, picking up a spiraled brown and white shell. “Or maybe it is that easy,” I suggest. “You’re already doing it. You’re an amazing CMO, a good son, and a great man. You just need to be reminded of that sometimes.”

“You’re like the asshole whisperer,” he praises.

I laugh at the odd compliment, the sound carrying on the wind. “No, I’ve just dealt with a lot . . . for myself, for clients, and for friends.”

Carson steps in front of me, stopping us. Looking down at me, he says seriously, “I don’t want to be your friend, Jayme.”

“I . . . I . . .” Stuttered sounds are all that come from my mouth. I’m conflicted because I’m feeling a hell of a lot more than professional or friendly about Carson, and I want to explore this. But as much as I say I’m a badass, there’s some level of me that worries about jumping into the water too. Carson is in a vulnerable period and needs my help, and I don’t want to take advantage. And there’s so much he doesn’t know about me.

A soft smile curls my lips, but before I can say anything, Carson sweeps me off my feet and runs toward the water.

“Carson! What are you doing?” I screech, my fingers scrabbling for purchase on his broad shoulders as my laughter echoes across the wind. He high-knees it into the ocean, the waves getting higher and higher until he loses his footing in the soggy sand and we tumble into them, him spinning so he holds me higher in the shallow depths. I go under for a second, barely remembering to hold my breath before swallowing the salty water, and search wildly for the surface. I pop through, immediately sputtering, to see Carson flinging his hair out of his eyes, which are staring at me with dark desire.

“What? Why?” I ask, still laughing as my feet scramble to find the bottom.

He lounges back in the water, floating and kicking lazily. “You said swimming helped you think, and the way your eyes were jumping left and right, like you had an angel and a devil on your shoulders, it seemed like you needed a minute to think. Or maybe think less?”

It’s ridiculous . . . or it should be. But he seems perfectly at ease swimming in the ocean in slacks, a button-up shirt, and tie. And with giving me a moment of reflection about this thing building quickly between us.

I can at least confess one thing. I lie back next to him to float on the waves. My blouse bubbles up from the water, and I press the air bubbles out, leaving the silk stuck to my skin. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Carson moves faster than I expect as he stands upright. “What?” he scoffs. Confusion mars his brows as he searches my face for some deeper explanation. “Take advantage of me?”

I keep my eyes on the sky, watching the birds soar in circles as they look for food along the beach. “I’ve seen this before. When people are struggling or lost, sometimes they feel like the person helping them is some sort of savior. And that can be . . . attractive. Or they’re vulnerable, and being professionally vulnerable can be confused with personal emotions. I don’t want to go too far and then you regret . . . me. When all this is over and you don’t need me anymore, I don’t want you to feel like you don’t want to be around the person who saw you at your worst.”

“I think it’s sweet that you think this is my worst,” he jokes, his voice deep with emotion. “But unless you make it a habit of getting close to your clients, I’m not seeing the problem. I’m telling you flat-out, I want you, Jayme. And it has nothing to do with this situation we’re in but with the fact that you’re an amazing, beautiful, intelligent woman.”

“Two.” I look from the sky to Carson. “Two clients I’ve gotten close to. One owns that house. The other is here in the water with me.”