The sun shone off the Gulf’s water, giving it an illusion of deep blue clarity. A line of pelicans raced over the surface, the lead bird dipping under the water and emerging with a fish in its beak. Kellen stood on the front deck of Sara’s house and watched the birds swoop and glide for several minutes, trying to find the courage to go inside. He’d had a fantastic time with Dawn during their road trip—living in the now, considering the direction of his future—but the time had come for him to confront his past. Dawn had volunteered to join him, but he wanted to enter the house alone the first time since he’d broken his promise to Sara.

The pelicans flew out into the Gulf until they shrank into nothingness. He supposed he had nothing left to use as an excuse to procrastinate. Taking a deep breath and putting the Gulf to his back, he inserted his key into the lock and opened the hurricane door. As usual, it stuck, and he was swamped with a memory of him and Sara trying to figure out how to get the blasted thing open when they’d first vacationed there.

The living room was dusty, but nothing else was different or out of place. The sofa he’d brought from Sara’s apartment still looked small in the cavernous room. The shelf that contained all of her dolphin figurines took up one corner. Her books on animals and environmental science and fictional vampires crowded another shelf along the far wall, and then there were the pictures—pictures of her, of the two of them, of her with her family, and a few with Owen. There was even one with him, Sara, and both Mitchell brothers. Kellen smiled at the four of them holding up Solo cups, looking like they were drinking themselves into a stupor, but there’d been no alcohol in those cups. He fondly remembered the day they’d spent with Chad right before he headed off to boot camp. They’d gone fishing but ended up rescuing tadpoles from an evaporating puddle because Sara just couldn’t stand the thought of the slimy things dying. Frogs. She’d saved frogs in cups brought for partying.

There wasn’t a single reminder of her illness in the beach house. This was his shrine to her life, not to her pain or her death. He closed the door behind him and sat on the sofa. They’d spent a lot of time kissing on this sofa. They’d even made love on it a time a two. He wondered if she’d lived if she’d have grown more sexually bold with experience. Most likely he never would have discovered Shibari if she hadn’t died, but they would have had a lifetime to discover what sexual acts thrilled them. He also wondered if he’d have a lifetime to discover such things with Dawn, or if she’d eventually figure out that he wasn’t worth the headache and split.

He sat in the silence, listening for sounds of Sara’s laughter, but heard only the repetitive call of a distant gull.

Maybe she wasn’t here for him anymore. Maybe she was really gone.

Deciding that the room wasn’t going to dust itself, he went to the utility closet for cleaning supplies.

A knock on the door drew Kellen from the closet. It had to be Dawn, and he should probably be angry with her for meddling in his private time with memories of Sara, but he felt oddly relieved. He could spend the day at her rental instead of his place. Being anywhere else might just lift the oppressive burden that had settled in his chest. He opened the door, and Dawn’s sunny smile lifted the storm clouds from his thoughts.

“Well, hello, handsome. I’m staying in the house next door and thought I should come over and introduce myself. See if there’s anything you might need.”

He lifted a puzzled eyebrow, but played along. “Very neighborly of you. I’m Kellen,” he said, “and you would be?”

She pressed her beautiful hand to her equally beguiling chest. “I’m Dawn.” She peeked around his shoulder. “I was hoping you’d introduce me to the lady of the house.”

His heart produced an irregular thud. “I’m sorry, but she passed away many years ago.”

“Are you sure? I think I see her in every nook and cranny.”

Dawn, smart woman that she was, was entirely correct. Sara was there. She was everywhere.

“Come in,” he said, stepping aside.

Dawn entered Sara’s house and immediately moved to the photographs that had been arranged in brightly colored frames along one wall. Kellen followed her, his chest tight and his lips pressed together. He imagined that this was what it felt like to introduce the woman you loved to your family. He wouldn’t know, as his grandfather and estranged father had died before he’d met Sara and he didn’t speak to his mom, but the feeling had to be similar. He so wanted Dawn to like Sara—weird as that sounded—and he wanted Sara to accept Dawn.

I’m all sorts of fucked up in the head.

“So this is Sara,” Dawn said. “She’s very pretty. And you’re right, she does look like Lindsey.”

She slipped her hand into his and squeezed. Was her palm the sweaty one or did that dampness belong to him?

“It’s uncanny, isn’t it?”

“I totally get why being around Lindsey was freaking you out. So tell me about the days captured in these photographs.”

At her invitation, he went on a long and probably boring spiel about their various adventures: kayaking the Rio Grande in Big Bend, picnicking at Mount Bonnell overlooking the Colorado River, hiking through Arbor Hills, swimming through the waterfall in Hamilton Pool, and their road trip through the desert when Sara got it into her head to take a picture of every species of cactus in Texas—all one hundred of them. He’d always loved the outdoors, and he and Sara had spent countless hours exploring the great state of Texas. Dawn laughed at his funny stories, smiled when he was nostalgic, and encouraged him to share details that were becoming embarrassingly fuzzy in his memory.

“I’ve never spent much time outdoors, but it looks fun. Maybe we could do things like this together.” She glanced at him. “Or would that make you uncomfortable?”

“Why would it make me uncomfortable? I love the outdoors.”

“Well, those are activities you shared with Sara, so I thought maybe I’d be trespassing or something.”

“I did this kind of thing before I met her. And I still do this kind of thing with Owen. So, no, you wouldn’t be trespassing. I’d like to show you the world—the natural part of it.”

“And I’d like to show you the world—the historical cities, the rich cultures.”

He grinned. “Sounds like we’ll be busy.”

She stared at him for an extended moment, as if she were seeing their future together. When she smiled, he figured she liked what she saw.

She turned to the next picture on the wall—him and Sara on one jet ski and Owen on another, riding solo. “Where’s this?”

“Uh, that’s Lake Travis in Austin.”

“Did you two hang out with Owen often?” She angled her face toward him, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Actually, no. I’m singularly focused when I’m involved with a woman. I’m kind of a dick to him, to tell the truth.”

“I noticed that,” Dawn said. “I thought maybe you were always a dick to him and just didn’t realize it.”

“I have this very strange inability to focus my attention on more than one person at a time.”

“I’m a bit like that myself. But it is possible to date one person and have a brilliant friendship with another.”

He grinned. “I’ll have to try that sometime.”

“And who is this handsome guy?” Dawn said, her attention on the fishing trip photo.

Sara was plastered to Kellen’s side, a net in one hand and a Solo cup holding tadpoles in the other. The two of them were smiling like idiots. Chad had an arm around Owen’s shoulders as they posed for Jodie, who’d been volunteered to take a group picture of them. They probably should have found a stranger to take the shot so Chad’s girlfriend could have been included in the picture.

“You don’t see the resemblance?”

“He looks a lot like Owen,” Dawn said. “A bit less pretty boy, but they definitely have the same eyes.”

Kellen chuckled. Owen was somewhat of a pretty boy.

“That’s Chad, Owen’s older brother. He’d just joined the army and left us right after that was taken.”

“Is he still serving?”

“Yeah, he’s in Afghanistan. Cleaning up IEDs or something. We don’t really talk about that stuff when we hear from him. He just wants to know what’s going on back home.”

“That makes total sense to me.”

“He’s supposed to be coming home soon. Owen is stoked.” Kellen was pretty stoked too, but he was a little better at hiding it.

“Maybe I’ll get to meet him.” She glanced up at him, expectation in her eyes. She wanted to be a deeper part of his life; he recognized that. He just hoped he could allow it before he did something totally idiotic and pushed her away.

Kellen pulled his gaze from hers and focused on the picture again. “Well, if you’re not into saving tadpoles when you’re supposed to be tossing back beers and landing a huge fish, I’m sure he’d be happy to have you along.”

Kellen soon had her laughing about the slipperiness of tadpoles and Sara’s insistence that none of them be squashed by their man-hands and using all their beer cups for her rescue mission.

“You don’t have to worry about me trying to save slimy creatures,” Dawn said. “I nearly catapulted myself into the Gulf when I stepped on a jellyfish.”

“Sorry I missed that,” he said, chuckling as he imagined her leaping into the air. “You didn’t get stung, did you?”

“No, but I was traumatized just the same.”

“So what do you like besides pianos and baking and being a general pain in your father’s ass?”

She laughed, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “There’s more to life than that?”

“Just a bit.”

“I like you,” she said.

He had the sudden urge to kiss her, but couldn’t bring himself to do it with dozens of pictures of Sara all staring at him. “And what else?” he asked, standing up straight when he realized he’d been leaning in to steal the kiss.

“Being tied with my legs wide open and your mouth reminding my pussy what it was made for.”

He felt a flush creep up his cheeks, but wasn’t sure if it was due to embarrassment or undeniable arousal. Why had he insisted on coming here first? If they’d started at Dawn’s place, he could already be giving her pussy another reminder. Maybe even two by now.

“What else?” he asked, hoping she’d change the subject and at the same time wishing she’d demand he take her home and then directly to her bed.

“I also like the scent of lilacs. Exploring foreign villages. The sound of rain against the roof. The tastes of cinnamon and vanilla. What do you like, Kelly?”

“The taste of you.”

She bit her lip, her gaze heated as it searched his bare chest before settling on his eyes. “I’m willing when you’re able.”

Was he able? He caught sight of Sara’s bright blue eyes in a nearby photo and decided not quite yet. The true test of letting her go would be fucking Dawn in the bed he’d once shared with Sara, and he wasn’t sure if he’d take that step this weekend or in the future or ever. But he could fuck Dawn in her own bed, and he would even allow himself to enjoy it.

“We’ll go back to your place soon.” He nodded toward Sara’s collection of figurines. “Sara also had a thing for dolphins.”

Dawn’s sigh made him squeeze his eyes shut. He sorely hated to disappoint her and wondered how many times she’d put up with disappointment before she told him to get lost.

“Did you buy all of these dolphins for her?” There were at least fifty of them in the collection, ranging from a tiny silver earring to a large crystal sculpture.

“Just a few.”

Dawn listened carefully as he told her about each piece he’d bought, where he’d gotten it, how Sara had reacted to it. He had no idea how the poor woman could stomach his dull, one-sided conversation, but she took it in like an eager student trying to memorize information for a midterm. Dawn couldn’t possibly give a fig about how happy Sara had been on their first Christmas together when she’d opened the jewelry box shaped like a dolphin and found an engagement ring inside. In fact, he was pretty sure Dawn wanted to fling the pretty box with the mother of pearl inlay out the nearest window. That was what he would want to do if he were in her position, but she merely smiled at him.

“Very romantic of you,” she said. “I figured you were more the grand gesture type.”

“Is that what you’re expecting when a man proposes to you?” Not that he was planning on proposing any time soon, but her answer would reveal a lot about her, and he might need that information at a much later date.

“I’ll probably be the one to do the proposing,” she said. “I’m not a patient woman.”

He snorted. “You’re infinitely patient, Dawn. I don’t know how you can stomach listening to all my stories about Sara.”

“I want to understand her so I can understand you better.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re worth getting to know, and that makes her worth getting to know.”

She pointed at the wooden sculpture of a dolphin in the center of the top shelf. The teak had gathered dust, so it lacked the usual shine that accented the dark and light grain of the wood to perfection.

“What’s the story behind that one?”

“Her father gave her that when she graduated from high school.” He grinned. “Well, that and a car.”

“My father bought me a car when I graduated as well.”

“Was it a Prius?”

She flushed from the roots of her lovely red hair to the hint of cleavage at the open neck of her button-down shirt. He wondered if she also flushed in the places he couldn’t see.

“Uh, no. A Mercedes.”

He laughed. “I should have known.”

“I shouldn’t have accepted it, but it was so lovely.” She sighed as if enraptured.

“Why shouldn’t you accept his gifts? Your father has the means to give you nice things. You shouldn’t feel guilty about taking them.”

“I suppose not, but he isn’t the type who gives gifts without expectations. He uses them to pressure me into doing his bidding. He said that if I didn’t go to the University of Pennsylvania and major in business, he wasn’t going to pay my tuition and would take the car away.”

“So how did you end up at Curtis?”

She laughed. “That’s simple. I was good enough and it was free. Everyone who gets in automatically gets a full scholarship, so it didn’t matter that Daddy wasn’t paying my tuition. I earned it myself.”

“And the car?”

“He let me keep it when I wiped out on some girl’s bike and he got a call from the hospital.”

“Did you wipe out on purpose?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Now wouldn’t that have been fabulous if I had? But no. I’m sort of all legs, and my brain can’t seem to keep them coordinated.”

He had noticed how long and sexy her legs were, but had witnessed no signs of clumsiness. “I would never have guessed. When you walked in those heels of yours at the bar in New Orleans, I was the one tripping over myself.”

“Walking in heels took years of practice to perfect. I’m still working on the riding a bike thing.”

As far as he was concerned, walking in heels suited her far better than riding a bike, but then he was partial to those long legs of hers. Dawn held his gaze for a moment and then turned toward the case overflowing with Sara’s books. Damn if the back of her looked as spectacular as the front.

“Are these all hers?”

Kellen pulled his appreciative gaze from the curve of Dawn’s ass and turned it to the batch of books that had never interested him in the slightest. “Yes. She insisted on keeping up with her major even after she graduated.”

“So what did she do? As a career? Something with animals?” Dawn scanned the titles on multicolored book spines. “Or the environment?”

“She’d just started working for some PhD at UT doing research on the long-term effects of the Gulf oil spill on crabs or oysters or something when I found that lump in her breast.”

Dawn’s head swiveled in his direction. Her eyes were wide with surprise. “You found the lump?”

“We used to joke around that if I’d been less of a gentleman and felt her up sooner, I might have saved her life.”

Dawn’s brow crumpled. “That’s an awful responsibility to place on yourself.”

It was. He hadn’t really ever thought of it that way. And Sara had been so distraught about her diagnosis that she probably hadn’t considered how it had made Kellen feel to think he might have saved her if he’d been more diligent.

“Do you mind if I ask about her illness?” Dawn asked. “I know you don’t like to dwell on it, and I won’t blame you if you don’t want to discuss it, but I’m curious.”

“You can ask,” he said. “I don’t have to answer.”

“How long did she suffer?”

He bit his lip, a huge lump forming in his throat. That had been the worst of it. Sara had suffered, and though she’d fought to live, she’d lost her battle, so the suffering had been for nothing.

“I . . .” He swallowed. He’d lost his ability to speak.

“Forget I asked,” Dawn said, squeezing his hand. “What else happy can you tell me about her?”

Kellen was already getting tired of talking about Sara. He turned and bumped his shin on a chair next to the bookshelf, trying not to dwell on the memory of pulling the thing out of someone’s roadside trash heap at Sara’s insistence, stuffing it into the trunk of his Firebird, and later helping her reupholster the hideous burnt-orange monstrosity. It wasn’t even a comfortable chair, but it was a recycled chair, so Sara had loved it.

“Let’s go for a walk on the beach before it gets dark,” he said as he stepped around the chair.

“It won’t get dark for hours,” Dawn said with a smile.

“I’m expecting I’ll need an exceptionally long walk to clear my head. Don’t you like to walk on the beach?”

“I love to, but I want to ask something of you first, and I won’t take no for answer.”

He loved the spark of mischief in her eyes almost as much as the challenge she presented.

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

“Every five steps up the beach,” he promised, walking backward toward the door and urging her forward by the hand he still held. “And every three steps back.”

“Okay, but that’s not my request.”

She was so wonderful to him, so caring and understanding and patient—how could he refuse her anything?

“Kiss me right here. In Sara’s living room.”

He could refuse her after all. “No.”

She tugged her hand free of his and turned back to the room. He’d almost had her to the door. Almost.

“Then tell me more about her,” she said. “Is this her furniture? I wouldn’t think it was your taste, but maybe I’m wrong.”

“It’s hers,” he said.

“Did you get rid of anything that belonged to her? If I go upstairs will her clothes be in the closet? Her slippers by the bed? Her toothbrush near the sink?”

How could Dawn know that? Did she know he still had a coffee cup—Sara’s lipstick on the edge—that he refused to wash?

He rested his hands on his hips and stared her down. “What’s your point?”

“You aren’t ever going to move on at this rate,” she said. “Let’s go get some boxes, clear out all her stuff, and donate it to a charity. I think she’d like that idea.”

“You don’t know her.” Kellen crossed his arms over his chest and set his jaw in a harsh line. “I’m not getting rid of her belongings. They’re all I have left of her.”

“You’re wrong. You have memories of her. Lots of good memories. You just shared many of them with me.”

“They’re fading already,” he said. “Seeing her things reminds me of them.”

Dawn lifted a hand to touch him, but he stepped back. She closed her hand into a fist and pressed it over her heart.

“She wouldn’t want this for you, Kelly. Not if she truly loved you. She would want you to be happy. She would want you to kiss a sexy redhead when she asks you to.”

Dawn struck what he assumed she thought was a sexy pose and gave him a heated look. He snorted on a laugh.

“Sara was the most jealous woman I’ve ever met. The truth is, I never found it difficult to maintain friendships while dating women before her, but she insisted I spend all my free time with her and if I didn’t, she’d call to check up on me. She was convinced that I’d find someone new.”

“So not all of your memories with Sara are happy,” Dawn said.

“Of course not, but the happy ones are the only ones I want to remember.”

Dawn shook her head. “There is no way I can ever measure up to her, to all happiness all the time. Don’t you get that?”

“This isn’t about you.”

“It is about me. Not all of it, clearly, but part of it is about me. I really want to be with you, Kelly, but damned if you aren’t making it impossible for me.”

“Then maybe this isn’t going to work out.”

“Do you even want it to work out?”

“I do, Dawn. More than anything.”

“Prove it.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“Kiss me.”

It was a simple request, really, though it felt like a monumental task. But maybe, just maybe . . . 

He crushed her against him, a hand fisting in her hair—for what, to punish her for pushing him where he knew he needed to go?—and ground his mouth against hers. The lust that slammed into his groin and heated his blood was no surprise, but the emotion that clogged his throat and tried to choke him caught him off guard. Pressure built behind his eyes, forcing up tears so rapidly that they fell before he could shove them back behind the wall he’d built as their dam long ago.

A sob ripped from him, breaking against Dawn’s soft lips, pulling her under with him as her tears mingled with his.

“It’s okay,” she whispered between tender kisses. “It’s okay, Kelly.”

It didn’t feel okay; for chrissakes, he was shaking all over and showing his weakness to the one person he wanted to see him as strong. Dawn had broken him. Was she happy now? He’d been holding it together for so long—so long—and with one stupid kiss, she’d completely shattered him. But she felt so good—so good—in his arms, her softness against his chest, her encouraging whispers in his ear, her sweet scent surrounding him. She was his strength, his salvation. And he feared he was still in love with another woman when the one he wanted to love, the one he needed to love, was right there in his arms.