What if we’re so addicted to the fireworks it doesn’t stop when we get home?
What if I let this breezy little snack of a hellion sink her teeth into me? All while I lie back and enjoy it.
And what the hell if it’s more than just sex? What if it turns into candlelit dinners and tense sit-downs with HR and introductions to everyone as a “couple” and—
I hate that I almost physically push her away when I stagger back.
Just in time, too, because I hear Destiny calling.
“Dad! Dad, come quick—I think I see a turtle!”
Brakes slammed.
So hard it hurts when I look back at Eliza and see the confusion lashing in her eyes.
Yeah, I’ve been down this road before, regardless of whether or not this route has different twists and turns.
I know where they inevitably lead.
Calamity.
Clearing my throat, I step away from Eliza, muttering, “I should keep a closer eye on Dess. The evening waves can get strong out here without notice and she keeps leaning on the railing. Don’t want her falling over.”
Eliza’s eyes barely register the comment before I’ve darted away to find Dess again. Thankfully, she’s still so obsessed with sea critters that she’s oblivious to the dynamite kiss that was going off behind her the entire time.
With precious space, maybe I can think before tripping into chaos.
Destiny grins from ear to ear as she looks up at me. “This is so cool! If you’re quiet, the guy in the back told me the dolphins come closer sometimes. Eliza deserves a raise for this.”
“You think it’s her doing?” I ask.
“Dad. You’re encouraging and all, but with both of you on this boat with me—I dunno—I’m not afraid. Not even for a second.” Dess turns her face up, gleaming in the sun. I try not to see a younger Aster. “She’s just a chill lady and it makes everything easier. You’d better give her a beast of a bonus when we’re home.”
I smile at her. “We’ll see. With that enthusiasm, maybe you should explore marine biology after all.”
“Oh, I’m thinking about it.” Her smile thins into a serious line.
Damn. I was still half joking, but there’s nothing whimsical in that look.
She’s young, but if she truly thinks there’s a future in this and she can get past the ocean and its bad memories...well, I’ll be damned if I’ll keep her chained to a family legacy.
A few minutes later, I hear soft footsteps padding on the deck behind us.
Eliza stands so close to me we’re barely touching. I won’t meet her eyes as she looks at Dess. “If you’re having fun on the boat, I think there’s a local tour around here. They’ll take you out deep enough in the water to snorkel and swim with the dolphins.”
“Oh!” Destiny meets my eyes. “Can we go, Dad? I...I think I’m ready,” she adds in a small voice.
My phone buzzes with a text. I pick it up, see a message from Troy, and frown before I feel Destiny’s eyes still on me, waiting for an answer.
I look up.
“I’ll see when my schedule aligns again with Miss Angelo’s,” I say neutrally, finally looking at this storm of a woman I want to regret kissing.
The shine in her eyes won’t let me.
Her sunny, curious gaze just makes me want more—no matter how recklessly intense or monumentally stupid acting on that want might be.
Later, I stare across the table, relieved that I can keep a smile with this man without looking like I’m chewing on broken glass.
“The food’s spectacular. They source it all locally here. Hell, the mahi-mahi might be the best thing on the menu in my not-so-humble opinion. You won’t regret ordering it, Cole,” Troy says with a wide grin.
“Thanks,” I tell him. “This restaurant wasn’t here last time.”
He nods, sipping his mai tai. “Oh, yeah, lots of interesting changes around these parts. I admire you for coming back even if it took some time—both of you. I know it isn’t easy.”
Destiny smiles warmly, and it must be infectious because I don’t feel like I’m faking it. When Troy sent over that text asking for a dinner to square away our argument, I didn’t have the heart to turn him down.
“What can I get you?” a smiling server asks.
I look at Dess first, knowing she takes a million years to decide without a little encouragement. “You got your eye on the mahi-mahi too?”
“Um, yeah. With garlic mash and island slaw.” She nods firmly, her dark-blond hair flapping.
“Excellent choice, madame. And to drink?”
She looks at me. “Can I get a piña colada?”
“As long as it’s a mocktail,” I grumble.
She rolls her eyes at me like she’s actually expecting me to slip the lady a bribe to spike my underage daughter’s drink.
“We can certainly make it one,” the waitress says.
“Actually, just give me a banana smoothie,” she says, sighing like only a disappointed bratty teenager can.