ÍSA COULDN’T GET TO SLEEP.

Even though the gloriously peaceful silence was broken only by the crashing waves.

Picking up her phone, she texted Nayna. How’s the whole ‘running away to the jungle’ thing going?

She wasn’t really expecting a response given the late hour, but Nayna must’ve been up. A freaking jungle would’ve been noisier than this. They have baboons in the jungle, right? And baboons are noisy. It’s so QUIET here I keep expecting to hear ghostly wails and rattling chains.

Ísa bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. I am currently suffering from the curse of peace and quiet and nature as well. Obviously, city girls didn’t do well when plucked out of their environment. Do you think the ghost will come with a dashing duke to rescue you?

I’m more into the stubbled-jaw, blue-collar man these days, Nayna admitted. Do you know what I’m watching right now? A rerun of a home-renovation show full of construction types. I hate myself.

Why don’t you invite Raj to join you? Ísa suggested wickedly. Have a little fun away from prying eyes.

Nayna’s response took five minutes to come. And it had Ísa jerking upright on the large air mattress Sailor had inflated for her and Catie.

I did it. I called him. He sounded all sleep-growly and he was pissed that I’d gone AWOL, but he said he’d come. I just hope he wasn’t lying—if he tells my parents where I am, that’s it, I’m done.

Grinning and doing a little dance for her friend, Ísa said, Take my advice and do every dirty thing you’ve ever dreamed.

You, my friend, are not helping my attempts to calm down, Nayna accused. Anyway, I’m going to leave the TV on for noise and try to catch some sleep. He was booking an early-morning flight down when we hung up.

Ísa, too, attempted to go to sleep—to no avail.

Maybe she should try Catie’s trick; her sister had fallen asleep with her earbuds snugged to her ears. Her prosthetics sat neatly to the side of the tent. She’d admitted to Ísa that her stumps hurt a little as a result of navigating the unfamiliar terrain, but she’d been smiling as she removed the silicon suction liners that protected her flesh from the prosthetic sockets.

“Sailor’s family is awesome,” she’d said, her smile a far sweeter one than she permitted the outside world to see. “I sent Harlow pictures of like the game and stuff, and he was bummed to be missing out even though he’s all googley heart eyes over the Dragon. He totally wants to come next time.”

Ísa’s heart ached. Her baby sister was falling as hard for the Bishop-Esera clan as Ísa. Catie had joined in every activity so far, including a walk on the beach to collect shells. Sailor had just hauled her up each time she stumbled, as had Gabe, and they’d done it the same way they’d hauled up Danny when he attempted a backflip and landed flat on his back.

Catie had stopped feeling self-conscious at some point, and by the end of the walk, she’d even gigglingly climbed onto Gabriel’s back as Ísa got up onto Sailor’s, the two brothers having challenged each other to a race.

Ísa still wasn’t sure who’d won. There’d been laughing accusations of cheating because Catie had removed her prosthetics beforehand. According to Danny, it made her lighter and therefore disqualified her and Gabriel. Catie, in turn, had pointed out that Ísa could hold on tighter with her legs whereas Gabriel had to use energy supporting Catie, so “Suck that, caveboy.”

When Danny had said he didn’t fight girls, Catie had threatened to beat him with a prosthetic. At which point the entire camp had collapsed into hysterics—the two combatants included. Ísa had never seen her sister so comfortable with anyone so quickly. Catie had even shared her chocolate with Danny and Jake.

If it all fell apart, it wasn’t only Ísa’s heart that would break. But it wasn’t going to fall apart, she thought furiously. She and Sailor had a plan.

And that plan relied on Ísa taking a back seat to Sailor’s ambition.

Cheeks hot with a burn that had nothing to do with embarrassment, Ísa sat up, arms linked around her knees. She’d been trying not to face that truth so bluntly, had put all her energy into figuring out how her and Sailor’s relationship could survive this. She’d been tough, fierce Ísa.

A fighter.

While her heart was cracking. Because all she’d ever wanted was for someone to put her first. To fight for her.

Pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, her eyes burning, she decided to take a walk in the cold night air. There was no point in giving in to self-pity. She’d made a decision and she’d see it through. Because no matter all her admonitions and plans to the contrary, Sailor Bishop owned her heart.

The idea of walking away from him, even to protect herself… it hurt.

Before sneaking out of the tent, she picked up the flashlight he’d given her. But it wasn’t as dark outside as she’d expected, the moon huge in the sky, which was a glittering carpet free of light pollution. Deciding she’d be fine without the flashlight, she slid it back into the tent where Catie would be able to find it, then began to pad barefoot over the grass toward the beach.

Bare feet aside, she was wearing flannel pajama pants paired with an old navy-colored T-shirt, her hair braided back, so she was decent, if not fashionable.

It was only seconds later that she realized the beach wasn’t empty.

A man sat on the sand, staring out at the water.

Ísa would recognize that profile, those shoulders, anywhere. And though she felt far too vulnerable to face Sailor’s blue eyes, she hated the sight of him so alone. It was no real decision to continue on in his direction. He glanced around right then, as if he’d sensed her.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he said when she was almost to him, his expression lighting up with a wild welcome that made all the pain worth it.

As long as Sailor kept looking at her that way, as if she were his personal Christmas, Ísa might just forgive him anything. It made her feel naked to admit that to herself, to realize how defenseless she was against this man.

Gut tight, she came down beside him on the sand. “Too much peace for this city girl.”

He put his arm, warm and strong, around her shoulders. “Cuddle closer.” It was a playful order. “I like my armful of redhead.”

Snuggling into him because she could deny him nothing, Ísa looked out at the moon-kissed water. “It is beautiful though.”

“Want to know a secret?”

“Always.”

“I was sitting here plotting how to reach into your tent and wake you without also waking Catie. For future reference, would you have screamed if someone tugged at your toes?”

Her shoulders shook. “I’d probably have kicked too.”

“Hmm, I need a new plan.” Tilting up her head, he kissed her so slow and deep and romantic that Ísa wasn’t the least surprised when she found herself on her back on the beach, the stars glittering behind Sailor’s head.

She brushed her fingers over his unshaven jaw. “You weren’t just sitting here plotting how to wake me. Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

“My demanding spitfire.”

Her glower had him grinning before he rose up and possessively manhandled her until she was kneeling between his raised knees, face-to-face with him. Ísa couldn’t help but drink in the attention. After this weekend, he’d have only brief minutes for her, and then she’d need the memories to carry her through.

“Is it the loan situation?” she asked, running both hands through his hair.

Hands linked at her back, he shook his head. “There are two things. The first is that I need to find the words to explain to my parents and my brother why I need to go it alone on the business front.” Raw emotion in his voice that he made no effort to hide. “I’m hurting them and I don’t want to—but I can’t accept their help.”

“Why?” It was time she understood what it was that drove Sailor so relentlessly.

“My biological father was a serious asshole,” he said flatly.

“You said he walked out on your family.”

“Went out to the corner shop and just never came back.” His lips twisted to the side. “We thought he’d return eventually—he’d pulled his disappearing acts before. But that time he decided to forget he had a family.”

---

EVEN AFTER ALL THESE YEARS, the betrayal was a kick to the gut. “I waited the longest,” Sailor admitted on a harsh breath. “I couldn’t believe he’d just leave us like that. I used to spend all my free time at the front window, watching for him. At least until we were evicted.”

Ísa’s gentle stroking, her hands weaving through his hair, it took the pain and turned it into a tenderness that was a fist around his heart. He had things to say to his Ísalind, but he’d show her all his scars first, reveal all his secrets.

And hope she’d forgive him.

“My fucking father had cleaned out all the bank accounts.” Sailor’s hands fisted behind Ísa’s back. “Brian even took the money from my and Gabe’s accounts. That was money our mother had put in literally five dollars at time so we wouldn’t miss out at school, so we’d have the money for supplies and extracurricular activities.” Sailor could barely bring himself to say the next words. “I loved that bastard so much.”

“You were a child.” Ferocious words, hands fisting in his hair to force him to hold her fiery gaze. “And he was your father. Of course you trusted him.”

Spreading his hands over her T-shirt, he pressed his forehead to her own and told her the worst of it. “I look like him.” He’d been fifteen when he’d stared into a mirror and seen the truth. “Mom never did anything dramatic like throw out all pictures of him. She’s always said that he’s our father and she wasn’t going to deprive us of our history.”

“I want to steal your mother,” Ísa said seriously. “She’s the kind of mom I want to be one day.”

Sailor caught the hesitation before the last words, wanted to punch himself. No, Ísa should be the one to punch him. He’d even give her a boxing glove so she could pound his stupid face without hurting herself.

“Hey,” she said when he went quiet, “don’t think you’re done yet. Keep on talking.”

God, he was crazy about her. “After Dad came into our life, I never really felt the need to look at photos of Brian. Dad was the one who was there for us, the one who did my homework with me, the one who held my hand when we crossed the road.” Joseph Esera had shown Sailor what it meant to be a real father, what it meant to show up and do the job with love and a quiet strength that told Sailor it was okay to lean on him when he needed it.

“But,” he continued, “then we did this family-history class in high school, and I decided to open up that can of worms.” As far as life decisions went, it hadn’t been one of his best. “I found a picture of Brian from when he and Mom first got married. It was like looking at an older reflection of myself.”

Sailor could still remember his dawning sense of rage. “Gabriel has the black hair, but he’s got our mother’s eyes. As for my brother’s build, I don’t know where that came from.” A grin born of old memories. “I used to say he took all the good food in the womb, leaving me the scraps.”

Ísa wrinkled up her nose. “You’re not exactly small.” Her hands on his shoulders, massaging with a proprietary touch that gave him hope. “What are you? Six two?”

“Good guess.” Only next to Gabe’s six five did he look in any way short. “I guess from your point of view, shorty, I’m a giant.”

Ísa poked him in the arm. “I’m a respectable five six, I’ll have you know.” The words were followed by a scowl. “So you look like him. It doesn’t mean you’re in any way who he was.”

“It’s not just that,” Sailor said. “I remember a lot of things from my childhood before he left. More than usual when you consider I was only five when he took off.” He’d never told anyone else the depth of his memories, not even Gabe.

“Not surprising.” She kissed him, tender and affectionate, his Ísa looking after him as she looked after all her people. “That was a dramatic time in your life.”

Sailor decided that if it turned out he had to fight dirty to keep her, he’d fight dirty. Even if it meant admitting to his most pitiful emotions and stripping himself bare. “Sometimes I feel like I’m picking up the memories brick by brick and looking at them. And what I see is that I have so many pieces of him in me.” He began to play with a lock of Ísa’s hair. “I almost didn’t become a gardener.”

Ísa’s eyebrows drawing together over her eyes. “But you love it so much.”

“He didn’t work much—Gabe remembers more, tells me Brian was always more interested in get-rich-quick schemes, the next big score,” Sailor said, wondering if Gabriel truly had conquered his own demons when it came to their father; he was Brian’s oldest son, after all, and they’d had a different relationship than Sailor had had with Brian.

His brother was so tough and so together that it was hard to think of him as a child, especially when he’d always been Sailor’s rock. “I remember holding tight to Gabe’s hand the day we were evicted. I was so scared, but I saw that Gabe wasn’t crying, so I didn’t either.”

Ísa’s lips curved. “I can just see you, two tough little men. That must’ve helped your mom so much when she was fighting to fix things.”

Sailor hadn’t felt so tough back then, but Ísa’s words showed him a new way to look at the terrible memories so they weren’t about abandonment but about love and strength and being family.

Yeah, he wasn’t about to let go of his redhead. Not ever.

“The odd times when Brian did work,” he continued, returning back to what he’d started to say, “it was often for landscaping companies. He gave me a child-sized spade a couple of months before he left. Mom likes gardening too, but I’ve always associated it with him.” With the man who’d left his family behind. That choice, Sailor might’ve one day forgiven, but to clean out the accounts so that his wife and children didn’t even have enough money for food? Who did that?

And how did a man get past such a vile genetic legacy?

“But one day,” Sailor said, curling Ísa’s hair around his finger, “I decided the dream was mine. He’d stolen so much from us—I wouldn’t let him steal this too.” He looked into the soft, moon-washed gray-green of Ísa’s eyes. “Do you see?”

Expression gentle and her heart unhidden, Ísa said, “You need to do this yourself, because your father took and took. It’s not rational and maybe it’s not even sensible, but it’s important to you.”

He shuddered because he was a fucking lucky man; she got it. Got him.

“Your parents and brothers love you,” she said decisively. “Involve them in nonfinancial ways and I think they’ll be happy. Talk to them about choices you need to make for the business, ask for feedback. And keep on accepting the frozen dinners and grocery deliveries.”

There she went, being Ísa again. Looking out for everyone but herself.

Well, fuck that. If she wouldn’t do it for herself, he’d do it for her.

“You know how I said there were two things?”

She nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Sailor decided to lay himself at her feet. “I was imagining the future and thinking of how if everything went according to plan, I’d have a very successful business with a high turnover.”

He made sure his hands were locked behind Ísa’s back—just in case she decided to leave him in her dust a fourth time. “And since I’d be rich, I’d be able to buy houses and other nice things for my family.”

Ísa frowned. “I don’t think your family expects that.”

“They don’t exactly need my largesse either,” Sailor muttered. “But in my future fantasy, I’m buying everyone fancy cars and houses. Go with it.”

Ísa’s lips twitched. “Okay, big spender. What else is fantasy Sailor doing?”

“He’s building a ginormous mansion. Swimming pool, tennis court, the works.”

“Is he hiring a buff personal masseuse named Sven?”

“Hell no.” He glared at her. “The masseuse is a fifty-year-old former bodybuilder named Helga. Now, can I carry on?”

Pretending to zip up her lips and throw away the key, Ísa made a “go on” motion.

“Future Sailor is also creating a huge walk-in closet for you and filling it with designer shoes and clothes. He’s giving you everything your heart desires.”

A flicker of darkness in Ísa’s gaze, but she didn’t interrupt… though her hands went still on his shoulders.

“And there’s a tricked-out nursery too,” he added. “Plus a private playground for our rug rats.”

Throat moving, Ísa said, “How many?” It was a husky question.

“Seven, I think.”

“Very funny, mister.”

“I’m not done.” Sailor was the one who swallowed this time. “And in this fantasy house, future Sailor walks in late for dinner again because of a board meeting, and he has a gorgeous, sexy, brilliant wife and adorable children. But his redhead doesn’t look at him the same anymore. And it doesn’t matter how many shoes he buys her or how many necklaces he gives her, she’s never again going to look at him the way she did before he stomped on her heart.”