The quiet rumble of the man’s voice warred with the louder rumble of the boat engine. Lisa was fussing and driving him absolutely insane asking the man a million questions Zach really didn’t care about. He had no idea why he was here, why he had been forced to come, but Seth had threatened him with re-admission, and Zach had been effectively backed into a corner.

He wasn’t sure what was worse; him being forced to come to some shitty hotel masquerading as a nursing home for old people, or Seth having an emergency surgery he had to perform and sending his assistant Lisa to accompany Zach instead of doing it himself.

He blew out another breath. No, that wasn’t the worst thing. The worst thing was his now fucked up life, all because he thought he knew better and had ignored Seth’s pleading for him to go get his eyes checked.

Acute angle glaucoma. A lot of his family had the disease in some form or another—even Seth—but Zach had been too busy to go for his check-ups. He’d actually been in Kigali taking pictures for the Rwanda Children Alone group when he’d gone to bed with a headache and woken up nearly blind. His left eye was completely fucked because he was miles from the nearest doctor, and there was nothing anyone could do. Even the eventual helicopter had arrived too late. His right eye was teetering on the verge of being savable. No stress. No lifting anything. No bending down to even tie his fucking shoes for the past twelve weeks. Anything that could cause an alteration in pressure on his eye was to be avoided. The doctors had done as much as they could, and he just needed time now.

He had been given the okay to fly after the last operation which was some small mercy, he supposed. He couldn’t have coped with being forced to make the long drive—not that he would be driving anytime soon. The chances of him ever getting behind the wheel of his rebuilt Thunderbird convertible again were minuscule. And his job.

He loved his job. It had been the one thing that had kept him sane after Ben had vanished, and it looked like he was going to lose that as well. He couldn’t photograph anything if he couldn’t see. Whoever heard of a blind photographer? The only way he would agree to this was if he had been allowed to come on his own. Seth had wanted to send a nurse with him which was ridiculous. His right eye was blurry because it currently had an oil bubble holding the retina in place, but he could see enough not to walk into any walls…or over a cliff. Not that he hadn’t given serious consideration to that, but he was still too fucking angry to even do that at the moment.

He had to endure another month of “quiet” as Seth had explained. Starting here. Apparently, it was a gay-friendly resort, and he was now allowed sex, but nothing too strenuous. His brother had thrown that little gem at him just before he left the hospital, and he hadn’t been joking. All through the acute stage, he had to avoid anything that raised his blood pressure. Not that sex had been on his list of must-haves for the past four years at all, and as it was unlikely there was anyone under the age of eighty in this place, he didn’t think Seth needed to worry.

In fact, Seth probably knew that and had been joking. Not that Seth knew it had been so long.

“Zach?” Zach turned his head at the mildly impatient tone. Lisa had probably said something else he had tuned out. Actually, Lisa had probably said lots of something elses, and to be fair, she was a good assistant. Seth would never confirm or deny she was anything else, and she certainly hadn’t signed up to be a nursemaid.

“Can Lisa be taken straight back?” he asked, looking in the general direction of where the man driving the boat was. He heard Lisa’s gasp and knew he was being rude. He turned to her. “It’s just I know Seth has that symposium next week, and he needs you back as soon as possible. I know he will struggle without you, and you could get a direct flight from Fort Myers or Tampa.”

He couldn’t see it, but he knew the words “Seth needs you” were having the desired effect.

“Are you sure?”

Zach wanted to laugh. It was true what they said about a reduction in one of your senses made the others sharper. The hopefulness was very clear in her voice. Zach heard Lisa get on her phone and tried not to look satisfied.

“Mr. Jones?” The low grumble was back.

“Zach, please.” After all, the man was getting Lisa out of his way.

“Sure. Name’s Matt,” he replied. “I was just checking you were good with that.”

“Yes, Matt,” Zach sighed and lifted his face to the sun, even though it was shaded behind very large and unflattering sunglasses that shielded the corners of his eyes as well. Seth had told him bluntly how important it was to protect what sight he had, and Zach, for once in his life, was taking no chances.

He heard the change in the tone of the engine and felt the boat slow. That had been quick. He knew Rainbow Key wasn’t very far from Sanibel, but he’d never been there even when he could see, so he’d never given it much thought. In fact, until Seth was told about the island by some colleague of his, he didn’t know it existed. He’d never been to Florida. Florida was for old people. Snowbirds they called them. The New Yorkers and such that moved south for the winter months. Not that he cared. As soon as he could, he would get back to his apartment and work out what the fuck he was going to do with the rest of his life.

And how I’m going to pay for it.

Not that he had to worry for about a year or so. At only thirty-three, he had been lucky at least in his chosen career, but New York rents would eat through his savings very quickly. Maybe he should sublet the apartment? Seth had said it could be easily another six months, maybe even a year, before his eyes settled.

Zach wasn’t so foolish that he made any attempt to stand until the boat had stopped. “Are you sure, Zach?” Lisa was still fussing.

“Very.”

“Mr. Jones?” Zach looked up automatically as he heard the voice, but the person that was talking was blurry. It was like looking through smeared glass. “My name’s Joshua Dryden, but please feel free to call me Josh, and I’m the manager of Rainbow Key. It’s very good to meet you.” Zach grunted but held out his hand and was surprised at the firm clasp he got. He didn’t object to the steadying hand that moved to his arm and was impressed that Josh immediately told him what obstacles were in front of him to avoid, even though it was generally unnecessary.

“I can see shapes,” Zach offered, responding to the easygoing helpfulness and Joshua’s calm manner.

“That’s good,” Josh replied, “because I don’t want you to sue us if you fall in the swimming pool.”

Zach barked out a surprised laugh before he realized it. Shocking because he couldn’t remember the last time he had found anything remotely funny. Josh steered him off the boat, and he heard the engines start up again. He felt a little guilty that he hadn’t thanked Lisa, but he was already walking up a slight hill.

“The hotel is in front of you. The pool area and the beach are to your left.”

“Describe the hotel to me,” Zach asked, suddenly curious for the first time about where he was going to be living.

“Think Gone with the Wind.”

“The book?” Zach asked.

“More the film,” Josh mused. “The hotel is white and looks like something out of a film set. We have a huge wrap around porch and a few steps to the front door. There’s a ramp also of course.”

“And you have Scarlett O’Hara in a maid’s uniform?”

“No, but I have my own Rhett Butler.” He sighed dreamily.

Zach was impressed. “You do?”

Josh snickered. “But don’t tell Daniel I called him that please. He’s constantly harping on about his age.”

“Daniel…?”

“I’m not sure you’ve heard of him. Daniel Morgan, CEO of Morgan enterprises and—”

“Sunset hotels,” Zach interrupted flatly.

“Uh-huh,” Josh replied hesitantly. Zach knew Josh had heard his change in tone. “Technically, Sunset owns the island. Do you know Daniel?”

“No,” Zach almost croaked the answer. “But I’ve stayed in quite a few of his hotels.” Josh remained quiet, and Zach was glad. He didn’t need to talk about Hawaii or remember what had been the best week of his life, and eventually, had turned out to be the worst. “Are you full?”

“Full?”

“I mean full of guests.”

“Oh no, but it’s not that sort of hotel really.”

“Huh?” Zach was confused.

“We have room for thirty guests including two family suites. Two of them are permanently allocated for long-term residents—”

“Like a nursing home,” Zach confirmed his suspicions.

Josh laughed. “Please don’t let May-belle hear you say that.”

Zach didn’t care who May-belle was. Probably some eighty-year-old.

“You don’t do bachelorette parties then?” Zach asked, wincing at the heavily laced sarcasm in his voice.

“No,” Josh replied, his voice as gentle as ever. “Rainbow Key isn’t a party place. We wanted somewhere a woman wouldn’t get looked at for kissing her girlfriend or two men could hold hands without a problem.”

Zach held his breath at the simple statement. He’d been in many countries where being gay was a death sentence. He nodded, ashamed at his sarcasm. He knew better than this. He was better than this.

He followed Josh in the door and immediately appreciated the air conditioning. He took a breath, acknowledging how sticky he was. It had been a long day.

“Would you like to be taken straight to your room, and are you hungry?”

Am I? Seth had complained endlessly he wasn’t eating enough. He just didn’t have much enthusiasm for hospital food, or any food really. “Room please.”

“And please say what you might need some help with,” Josh added. “I’m not going to be in your face, but I’m trusting you to ask.” They walked down a corridor, Josh greeted various people as they passed, opened a door, and Zach followed Josh through.

It smelled clean and was quiet, peaceful. And Zach, suddenly overwhelmed, felt the sting of tears in his useless eyes. He felt a hand gently press his shoulder, and he sat on the bed. “Would you like a shower?”

Zach nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He swallowed. “But I can manage. Showers are pretty standard.”

“Okay, well, while you’re in there, I’m gonna unpack your case.”

“It’s just shirts and shorts,” Zach said, peeling off the shirt that was currently sticking to him. He’d been clear with Seth. Nothing fancy, and he’d had most of the clothes at home anyway and knew which ones they were by the feel. A few pairs of briefs, one pair of sneakers, and the jeans he had on were all he wanted. He really wanted to sleep, but he guessed he would feel better after a shower, so he reluctantly stood back up. He really wasn’t interested in anything to eat.

“Tell me about your island,” he asked and walked into the bathroom without bumping into anything. The eye clinic he’d been to yesterday had a sink that stuck out as he had walked in, and the bruise on his hip was likely purple by now. He pushed the door closed but not fully, so he could still hear Josh as he told him the history of the island.

“I’m getting in the shower,” he called out, knowing the noise of the water would drown Josh out, and he stepped in, making sure the shower head was angled down away from his face. He wasn’t allowed to swim or get any water in his eyes until the doctor in Tampa said so, which was a shame because, if he was forced to vacation for a month, swimming would have made it bearable. His hair was longer than usual, and he managed by just rubbing his hand over his scalp, but he would have loved to do it properly. It used to be quite short because the places he traveled to sometimes made personal hygiene a luxury rather than a given.

He ran his fingers through the beard he now had and grimaced. It was convenient even though he didn’t like it. He didn’t trust himself to shave at the moment and had no idea how he was going to get it trimmed. Maybe he could find somewhere when he went for his eye appointments if he could summon up enough enthusiasm.

He quickly scrubbed the travel dirt off him and turned the shower off. He’d automatically located the towels as he walked in the bathroom, so he wouldn’t have to search dripping wet.

“I’m going to get you some food,” Josh called, and he heard the door close. Zach sighed out a long breath and walked to the sink, putting his towel over the edge of it, and looking up to where he knew there would be a mirror. Not that he could make out his features. Maybe that’s a good thing. He didn’t need to see his eyes to recognize the fear that was ever present in them.

He walked back out to his bedroom, and realizing he hadn’t asked Josh where he was putting his clothes, he felt his way around and quickly worked out where the dresser and side table were. There was a walk-in closet that Josh had hung his shirts in, and Zach quickly pulled one on. He grabbed the nearest pair of new black shorts—Seth had told him they were all black, so it didn’t make any difference what shirt he wore—and he was suddenly ridiculously grateful for his big brother. Even if a week ago he had been ready to kill him. But then, the feeling had been mutual.

He was dressed by the time Josh was back, and he inhaled the faintly spicy aromas that were coming from the dishes he carried. “I brought you a selection from our evening buffet, so you can eat whatever you want.”

“Buffet?” Zach asked as relief rushed through him.

“Yes, we don’t do anything that could be described as waiter service,” he chuckled. “Every meal is a selection, so people just help themselves. Breakfast tomorrow is between eight and ten, but we can easily bring it to your room if you prefer.”

“Yes. Please,” Zach tacked on. He had no intention of trying to eat anything in front of other people. Zach inhaled the interesting aromas again, and his stomach rumbled. He clutched at it, more shocked than embarrassed.

“I’m going to leave you to it. Would you like a guided tour when you’ve finished? We have almost two hours of daylight left.”

Zach stiffened as inexplicable rage rushed through him. Guided fucking tour? Daylight? He couldn’t see. What use would any of those be to him? But all he said was, “Maybe tomorrow. The journey wiped me out.”

It wouldn’t have normally. Up to a few months ago, he had always thought of himself as quite fit. Maybe Seth had been right to banish him to Florida. He certainly felt about ninety most days.

“Okay,” Josh answered easily. “But if you change your mind, pick up the phone and press the top left button. It puts you straight through to the kitchen, and either I or Joe will answer it.” He paused. “Or Angie, but just ask for me.”

As quickly as it had come, his irritation left him. He was a grown up. He was safe and would sleep in a comfortable bed tonight with a full belly. He had seen many people the world over that wouldn’t. He’d heard the cries of children that were so hungry it hurt. Or even worse, the ones that never cried anymore.

“Actually, Josh. I think I would like a tour if you have time.”

“Great.” Zach didn’t need to see the megawatt smile to hear it in Josh’s voice. “I’ll let you eat then come back.”

Zach sat at the small desk, pulled the tray towards him, and uncovered the dishes. He hadn’t asked Josh what was on them, but he quickly worked out it was Mexican and absolutely fantastic. The quesadillas with avocado dip were easily the best he’d ever eaten, and the fish tacos were just as awesome. He gulped down the ice-cold water and sat back feeling pleasantly full for the first time in a very long while. His fingers reached out for the last plate, and he could smell the cinnamon before he picked up the dessert empanadas. His hand froze as he touched the sugary pastry, and everything he had done his best to forget in the past few months came slamming home.

“Just a bite,” he had said huskily and brushed the soft dough against Ben’s lips.

“No.” Ben pushed his hand away and sat up. Zach cursed. He had been teasing, but with three ill thought words, he had ruined their dinner and probably their evening. After nearly three years, he should know better. They were flying to Hawaii tomorrow, and Ben had been religiously obsessive with everything he put in his mouth for the past month since he had found out about the shoot.

“I’m sorry,” he offered half-heartedly because it seemed that all he did was apologize these days.

“I’m going to do my yoga then I’m going to bed.” Ben got up and walked away from the living room in their apartment without even giving Zach a backward glance. Zach cursed again. It was likely Ben would pretend to be asleep when he went to bed, even if he wasn’t, and he knew what was really wrong. As soon as the shoot finished, Zach was leaving for Leer in South Sudan, and Ben was terrified and trying to hide it. There had been a journalist abducted and shot three months ago in a similar war torn and starvation ravaged country. Ben had cried when Zach had told him he was going and begged him not to go.

Zach tried to be understanding, but Ben—with his designer everything even down to the body wash he used—was too cocooned, like a lot of America, to understand what helplessness looked like on a starving child, and Zach was determined to make the rest of the world take notice.

Hawaii had been fabulous, but in the end, Zach had started resenting the 800 thread count sheets they slept in, the nine hundred dollar T-shirts that Ben wore, and the waste he saw taken from the restaurant every night that would feed a dozen families.

The last argument they had was the worst one. Sylvia Cross from the Day and Night Agency looked after Ben’s career. She told him where to go, what to dress in, and even exactly what jobs he should take and what he should refuse. He had started to think Ben cared more about her opinion—no, he knew Ben cared more about her opinion—than his, and he was tired of trying to point out to Ben that the only thing she cared about was the mighty dollar.

They’d had a fabulous four days in Hawaii. The Sunset resort had been gorgeous. Beautiful swimming pools had led to endless beaches with private cabanas and butler service to bring you anything you wanted. Zach loved taking pictures with Ben in them and knew he was the only reason he was still doing some fashion shoots. Ben was beautiful, and Zach told him so every day. The hint of olive in his pale skin and the slight tilt to his gorgeous green eyes made the combination stunning. His black hair was quite long, and it made the possibilities endless. All the designers loved him. His favorite was the original photo he had taken though. Ben had been caught off guard and had thrown his head back, laughing in that sultry way he had that never failed to go straight to Zach’s cock.

Hawaii had been so important to Zach because he was leaving straight after for The Sudan, and after a crazy month where he had barely seen Ben, he was hoping for a quiet night with just the two of them. Then maybe Ben would go with him to the airport to catch his early morning flight. He had been hoping they would talk. About their careers, about them. They lived together, but between his trips and Ben’s assignments, they were more roommates with benefits than anything else, and Zach wanted more. He wanted to be together permanently. He wanted Ben to give up on the crazy schedule, and in return, he would give up the international aid shoots that Ben hated. It terrified Ben when he went to the war zones, and he wanted them both to commit to each other. He knew Ben loved him. He even had the small box ready in his pocket to seal the deal.

Then he’d found out Sylvia was insisting Ben went to a party at a different hotel thrown by some wannabe pop star that had won a TV singing contest. Ben suggested they both go for a couple of hours then they could have the rest of the evening together, but Zach had known if Ben went, he was unlikely to get out of there within at least four, and he had an early morning flight. One damn night was all he was asking for out of a crazy week where he had to share him constantly.

Ben had said that Sylvia wanted him to meet some TV producer, and Zach laughed and said she would still be using that hook in another twenty years.

Ben erupted at that one. Told him his modeling career would last a whole ten years if he was lucky, and he couldn’t afford to waste a single second of it. Zach had shot back and asked him if Ben expected him to wait until the ten years were up before he started acting like he loved him, and should he get in line now?

Ben had gone silent, opened his mouth and closed it. Zach hadn’t cared. He’d railed that all Ben cared about was money. That the clothes he modeled could only ever be bought by the rich. That he was selfish. Shallow. Didn’t care about anything beyond the balance in his checking account. And obviously didn’t love him.

And then Zach left. Shoved his few clothes into his battered suitcase along with the ring box and called for a cab. He would never forget the crushed and haunted look on Ben’s face or the tears that welled just before Ben dipped his head to hide them.