Cara would be soaking wet too by the time she got to his room—if he could entice her out of her snit.
That put the cap on it. She’d be wet, sexy and all the things he’d been fantasizing about since last night.
Once he got off the elevator and into his room, he texted her again.
Weary all of a sudden, he slumped on the love seat to wait for Cara, too tired to pretend he wanted only the carnal pleasures to be had in her arms, when in truth, he’d be happy if she’d just be with him awhile. As a business owner, surely she’d understand his drive to be self-made—no family gravy train required—and would also be sympathetic to his failures. She didn’t look to him for strategy, results, dollar signs, fill in the blank.
He needed her tonight—for more than sex.
How strange was that?
By ten forty-five that knock on the door hadn’t come. She wasn’t going to show, leaving him to decide whether he had the energy left to hunt her down.
* * *
Cara spun on her toe to pace in the other direction, phone clutched in her hand so tightly, the screen might be permanently damaged. The room was unfortunately too small to unload the high level of anxiety and frustration coursing through her blood.
“That carpet is going to start crying before too long,” Meredith commented without looking up from her tablet, where she was watching Bridget Jones for the four hundredth time. “Why are you still here? Keith texted you like twenty minutes ago.”
“I can’t do it.”
She couldn’t physically move toward the door. Couldn’t text him back. Couldn’t make a decision to save her life. This was it, the line in the sand, and she had no idea what would happen if she stepped over it.
This bout of indecision had started the moment she left Keith earlier and then had grown to something monstrous as the day dragged on. Part of her had hoped Keith would be too busy to meet up so she could avoid the line as long as possible. Regardless, Meredith had bossed Cara into a slinky thong and matching bra, then forcibly shoved her arms into a low-cut sundress.
It was fine. Keith might not even call.
Then her phone had beeped and flipped her into panic mode instantly.
“Can’t do what? Let a hot man make you feel amazing?” Meredith rolled her eyes. “You’re certifiable.”
She was. “I am not.”
Anyone who would open themselves up to being crushed again, who’d decided she wanted to see what love felt like in a relationship where that wasn’t on offer, could easily be labeled crazy. Anyone who would pass up the opportunity to be with a man who’d made it clear he wanted her, trusted her and of all things cared about her was crazy times two.
The problem was she didn’t know which one this summons would lead to. And she couldn’t say the same about her feelings toward Keith, not 100 percent. After all, she’d thought she loved him before, only to find out nothing was as she’d told herself. And she certainly didn’t trust him. Which left two consenting adults having an island fling with no pressures and no promises.
Or did it?
Cara moaned and sank to the floor. “He told me he cares about me in the same breath as saying neither of us has the luxury of a relationship right now. What does that mean? Maybe he’d be open to it later? Or was it just to get me into bed?”
“Asking the wrong person.”
“Well, I can’t ask Keith. He’s the one who got me all confused in the first place.”
She would have sworn she had it all figured out before coming to Grace Bay. Cara Chandler-Harris Designs was a business she’d created to get over Keith. And as a result, she’d found something she loved. Something she was good at. Something that fulfilled her aching soul.
But she’d never expected it to take the place of a relationship. She’d never expected Keith to come back in her life and show her she didn’t know diddly-squat about what was supposed to happen after the “I-dos.”
She’d never expected to want to learn with Keith by her side.
Her sister snorted. “What in the world is there to be confused about?”
“What’s going to happen next?” Keith wasn’t marriage material. But then what if she wasn’t either? “What if I sleep with him and we end up with completely different ideas about where our relationship is—”
“Oh, honey, you’re going about this all wrong.” Meredith ditched her tablet and put a hand to her chin as if about to impart sage advice. “Stop being such a girl. You are woman, hear you roar. Get that man naked and horizontal and use him all up. Then after he’s rested, do it again. Do your gender proud and take what you want.”