Ben hadn’t slept. He’d watched Zach do so only when his exhaustion forced him to. Josh had been very worried. He’d told him that the instructions included keeping Zach’s blood pressure even. No bending over or lifting, and it had something to do with his eyes. Josh was going to call Alan Hunt to see what was going on.

Ben was sitting near the window as dawn was breaking, watching Zach as he lay completely motionless except for the slow rise and fall of his chest. Then he was back in their bedroom as if he’d never left.

“You’re a tease.”

Ben grinned in agreement while he was doing his own version of a striptease. Zach had walked in the door three hours earlier than expected after getting a different flight, and Ben was ecstatic. Between Zach’s work and Ben’s shoots, they had barely seen each other in three weeks, but Zach had gotten off the plane and come straight to Ben’s apartment.

“But I missed you,” he pouted and threw his briefs somewhere in the direction of the bathroom. The sharp inhale from Zach and the way his blue eyes darkened were so very satisfying.

“You are so beautiful,” Zach growled and lunged for him. Ben obviously let himself be caught, and Zach swung him up in his arms as he strode to the bed. Ben loved every second of Zach manhandling him. Always so sure, but so careful. Never left so much as a bruise even though Ben would sometimes beg him to. Even in the heat of the moment, Zach protected Ben and his career.

“You came straight here,” Ben laughed as they fell on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs, kissing each other until they were breathless.

“I have to go and get my mail later, but it would be so much easier if I didn’t have to do that.” Zach nibbled at Ben’s throat, and Ben opened his eyes wide. Zach stared at him. “Move in with me.” It wasn’t a question so much as an order, and Ben was deliriously happy.

That this gorgeous man had ever wanted him was completely baffling to him. Ben spent years having the person who should love him the most—he never called her mom—scream at him and tell him how useless he was. He had been little and skinny with horrendous acne that plagued him until he was fifteen. How it never scarred his face was beyond him.

But the words had never left him after years of being told how ugly and disappointing he was. As a result, he spent so long holding onto something he thought was important only to lose what truly was.

“Ben?”

Ben focused on Zach. His eyes were open, and he turned, but Ben could see right away that neither of them was focused on him. The left one was still blue but looked cloudy, like the blue and the white had bled together. The right still looked the same as always, but they were both red and swollen underneath.

“I’m here.” He stood and took a step to the bed, catching Zach’s hand as he raised it. “What do you need? A drink? Do you need your sunglasses—”

“You.” The cracked, broken answer seemed to split something in Ben, and he sank onto the bed as Zach reached for him, sitting up and wrapping his arms around him. “I can’t believe you’re here. Do you know how long I tried to find you?” Ben felt Zach stiffen as his own words sank in.

“What happened? I mean, I know about the fire, but—”

Ben shook his head then realized Zach couldn’t see him. Where did he start? “I—”

“You didn’t trust me,” Zach said flatly, answering his own question and let his arms fall.

“I—”

“You thought because your skin was damaged, I was shallow enough to have that matter to me.”

Yes. Ben closed his burning eyes. He did, and he couldn’t explain it. He certainly couldn’t justify it. Zach was right to feel the bitterness that was now loud in his voice.

“All the papers accused me of it, especially that fucking reporter that was so obsessed, but I thought you would have known better. You should have known better.”

Ben lurched to his feet. The recriminations that screamed through the wretched whispered words were deafening. How could Zach possibly love him? How could someone else love Ben when Ben didn’t love himself?

“How long have you been here?” the flat wooden voice sounded so wrong coming from Zach’s throat. Zach’s words were always full and warm. Even when he was angry.

“About a year and a half.”

Zach’s head shot up in shock. “All this time? You’ve been here all this time? I thought you had come here on vacation,” he said in complete bewilderment.

“I couldn’t risk—”

“Me finding you?” Zach accused.

“Anyone seeing me,” Ben whispered.

“A girl died. And you ran because you didn’t think you were beautiful enough for people to take pictures of you anymore?”

Zach was right. It sounded a hundred times worse when he said it, but the plain truth was ugly. Far uglier than he was now.

Ben couldn’t speak. Didn’t have anything worth choking out. Sorry, regret was a useless emotion that helped no one. It hadn’t helped Maegan. It wouldn’t help Zach. It had never helped him.

Ben spun around. He needed to go. Now Zach was awake and safe, he could leave. Matt was looking after Kai, but he needed to get him because Matt had work to do. He opened the door, but this time, Zach didn’t ask him to stay. And that, more than anything, told him they were done.

Zach lay back and closed his eyes. He’d thought—hoped—for a small, tiny second that everything would be all right. He’d found Ben, his darling Ben, that for so long he had been convinced he would never see again, and then reality had burst in and the bubble of his dream had gone when he realized why he’d never found him.

Because Ben didn’t trust him. And after two years, that had been why Zach had given up because, to him, trust meant love, and if he didn’t have the one then he’d never have the other. He had lain awake that night with the letter in his hand begging him to return to Sudan. And then he’d called the private investigator and canceled the job. The following morning, he had gotten on a plane, and for nearly another two years, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d been home. He lay quietly with his eyes closed for what seemed a long time until a knock on the door roused him and he heard footsteps. “Mr. Jones?”

Zach frowned at the strange voice.

“How are you feeling?” That was Joshua, and he tried to squint to see who the second person was.

“My name’s Dr. Robert Sams and my wife was at medical school with Seth.” The voice was warm and amused. “I’m based in Tampa, and you would have been seeing me tomorrow anyway, but I understand you weren’t feeling well last night, so Josh got a hold of Seth and well…”

Zach groaned. “Crap, I’m sorry. What time is it even? He shouldn’t have sent you here.”

Robert chuckled. “Oh, no need to apologize, Joshua here has promised me a complimentary weekend, and as it’s our anniversary next month, I’m going to take him up on it. Now,” he said, opening his bag. “I’m just going to put some drops in and check things out. I’m sure you know the routine by now. I just want to measure the pressures in both eyes then if everything’s okay, I’ll see you in two days at the clinic.”

Zach stopped protesting because he knew it was pointless, but there was no way Josh would be out of pocket because of him. He sat while the doc put drops in his eyes, stayed calm while the light was shone into them, and waited for the handheld sensor to bleep as it was pressed into the corner of his eyes.

“Very good,” Robert said. “Both pressures are holding steady. Headaches at all?”

He shook his head. The pain was in a completely different place.

“That’s great,” he heard the relief in Josh’s voice and was sorry he had worried him. Then he remembered something else.

“Doc, you gotta promise me you’ll call Seth and tell him I’m fine.” Seth would be on the next plane if he didn’t hear soon.

Robert sounded amused. “I will call my wife immediately, but I suggest you call your brother as soon as you can.” He nodded. His new phone was still in his case. He couldn’t see the numbers, and he wasn’t sure what was preprogrammed—if anything. “Now, remember—” Robert’s voice grew serious.

“No bending, lifting, swimming, but I am allowed to have sex,” Zach rattled off before the doc had a chance to and before he’d filtered Seth’s instructions.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure the bending and lifting restrictions can be eased as well,” Robert said, amusement apparent in his voice, “and we will discuss everything else when I’ve seen you on Wednesday.” He put his things in his bag, including the pen-like device he had used to measure Zach’s intraocular pressure. Zach blew out a long breath.

“Thanks.”

The doc patted his hand and turned to Josh. “I’ll leave him in your capable hands,” and with another admonishment to be careful, they both left.

Zach turned over and immediately lay down again and closed his eyes.

“Zach, can I get you something to eat?” Josh hadn’t left with the doc, and he was surprised. Zach shook his head.

“Thanks, but no, I’m tired.”

Josh came in a couple more times. Once he replied and the second time he pretended to be asleep. He actually did go back to sleep because when he woke, he immediately sensed someone was in his room, and he grew very still and cautiously opened his eyes. He couldn’t make the person out, but through the open bathroom door, he could see a figure crouching and smelled the bleach. He relaxed instantly, understanding it must be the maid, and he groaned, knowing he needed to get out of bed. It had been so easy in New York just not to care, and he didn’t want to fall back into that. The clatter as the maid dropped something made him smile. “Morning. You didn’t wake me up.” He added, not wanting her to think she was in trouble. The figure stood, but Zach couldn’t make out any features at all. “If you’ve done the bathroom, I’ll go get a shower then I’m out of your way in here.”

No answer. Maybe she didn’t speak English. They were in Florida. “Buenos Dias.” Crap, his Spanish was awful, and he ought to be shot for stereotyping. Still no answer. He huffed, suddenly irritated. “Look, in case you hadn’t worked it out, I can’t see you, so unless you answer me, I have no fucking clue what I can do to help.” Zach regretted the words as soon as he had spat them out. His foul mood wasn’t her fault.

“S-sorry.” He could barely hear the whisper, and he felt like a total shit for frightening her.

“No, I’m sorry,” Zach said and swung his legs out of bed. It was okay, he had shorts on. “What’s your name?”

“C-Chris.” Again, the stammering, fearful voice. Zach sighed. He hadn’t even known the “maid” was a guy. “Okay, well if you’ve finished in the bathroom, I’ll go in there.”

He hesitated. Maybe Chris hadn’t finished and wished for like the millionth time he could make out faces.

“O-o-okay.” Zach took that as a yes and went into the bathroom. When he came back out, he could smell the bleach again, but Chris had gone.

Zach debated staying in bed and moping like he had for the past few weeks, but with a rueful admission realized that, once he had stopped feeling so sorry for himself, he was bored.

And he wanted to see Ben.

His anger had left him, but now, he had questions. He wasn’t completely incapable. If he had been looking last night, he would have seen the rocks before he hit them. It had just been such a shock, and desperation had overtaken common sense. He never cried in front of other people. Because of Ben, but not just because of Ben, everything had seemed to hit him at once. It had been a shitty four months on top of a shittier nearly four years. He’d been impossible the last few weeks, and he had no idea how Seth hadn’t stabbed him with the scalpel he so expertly wielded.

Thirty minutes later, he was sitting by the window wearing his glasses, knowing full well he was too chicken to go hunting for the dining room even though he was a little hungry. He was staring out the window that he couldn’t see and ruefully admitting his ridiculous hang-ups were his own fault. Seth had explained glaucoma ran in their family and reminded Zach of their grandmother, and Zach—looking at his childhood memories as an adult—had been ashamed of himself. Nana was blind. He had done the dutiful visits with his mom and dad when he had been younger, but what had to be one of the last times Zach had seen her before she died, his nana had been just finishing her lunch as they had gotten there, and Zach had kissed her, not realizing she had some food on her cheek.

Zach had been a fussy eater as a child. Very fussy. He hated anything sloppy, and the soft vegetables that wiped on him at six years old completely freaked him out. He’d associated her not being able to see with feeling something sloppy on his face, and he was completely and irrationally convinced if he ate in front of anyone, he would spill and others would see it. It was laughable. Ridiculous. But the thought of eating when he was blind absolutely scared the crap out of him to the point he had barely eaten anything.

His rational self railed at his irrational fear until it seemed he could hardly force any food down, even on his own. The food he had eaten last night was the most he had in quite a long time. He heard the knock on the door. “I brought you some breakfast,” Josh called as he walked in.

“I’m sure you have enough to do without running around after me,” Zach protested, but he was secretly relieved.

“A couple of croissants, some buttered toast, and fruit. Oh, and the coffee is pre-poured into a large travel type cup, so you can wander around with it when you’re ready to explore.”

“I—thank you.” Zach’s throat closed at Josh’s thoughtfulness. He looked towards the window as he heard the engine start on Matt’s boat. “What time is it?” He still hadn’t worked out the fancy phone Seth had gotten that could speak to him.

“Nearly eleven thirty.” Josh hesitated. “I’m sorry you were disturbed earlier. Chris is new. He wouldn’t know not to come in.”

Zach shrugged. It was hardly a big deal. He didn’t know the rest of the staff, so he wouldn’t know if someone was new. “Are there a lot of people working here?”

“No,” Josh said and put the cup in Zach’s hand. “But it’s not that sort of place really.”

Zach waited for the explanation, but it wasn’t forthcoming. “Meaning?” he pushed.

“The resort isn’t big.”

Zach’s heart sank. He dreaded to think how much Seth had paid to get him here. Small meant exclusive. And exclusive meant expensive.

“Rainbow Key is run as a charity.”

“It is?” Zach asked in surprise. “What sort of charity?”

“All our staff are hired through our contacts with LGBT charities Daniel supports. It means a lot of them are inexperienced, and we are careful that our guests know that.” There was an edge to Josh’s voice. “Daniel does a lot of short-term employment programs to give people the chance to figure out what they want to do. It means we have quite a high staff turnover through the summer, but it also gives people the chance to get on their feet and some experience for another employer.”

“That sounds fantastic, and you certainly won’t get any trouble from me,” Zach put in.

Josh sighed. “I know that. We’re usually quite picky in our guests as well, but May-belle has some family here.”

“You mentioned a May-belle last night.”

Josh chuckled. “You wait till you meet her. May-belle Delange is a force of nature. She’s eighty, and she invited her daughter and son-in-law for the week.” He sighed. “And it’s been a bit of a disaster.”

“Why?” Zach was intrigued.

“Because all the bitch has done is complain about servers and housekeeping.”

“Then can’t you get this May-belle to leave?” He grinned. “I’m pretty sure Matt could throw her off the island.” He remembered the timid voice. How Chris had been so frightened that Zach was angry at being disturbed.

“Oh no.” Josh laid a hand on Zach’s arm. “We love May-belle to death. It’s Nancy Whitaker, her daughter, no one can stand. We just wanted May-belle to have a good time because we’re pretty sure Nancy is planning on shipping her off to a nursing home for some quiet.”

Zach was confused. “Isn’t it quiet enough here?”

“I guess.”

Zach could hear the amusement in Josh’s voice. “Maybe it would be too expensive long term?”

Josh waved his hand. “Not if she needed to. We take guests that need to be here as much as the staff you know.” The words were light, but Zach knew they were aimed at him.

“So, I’m just warning you that things—food—might not get served perfectly, or beds might not be exact, or—”

“You have nothing to worry about. I spent last Christmas shooting pictures for Every Child.”

Zach knew he would have heard of the charity. He hoped the whole world had seen his pictures. “Oh God,” Josh whispered. “I saw the documentary. Wait, did you take the photograph of the little girl?”

Zach nodded. He hadn’t been involved with the film crew himself, but they had been together at most of the aid centers.

“It was heartbreaking.”

The picture had been one of many. The seven-year-old with a malnourished body the size of a three-year-old had been standing in the line for the water pump that had just been fixed. Through interpreters, Zach had learned Sari, her mom, and baby brother had trekked two days for water. The baby had been dead by the time they arrived. He had taken a million shots of her it had seemed. Tired, too-old eyes had watched him dispassionately as he had done so. Zach had wanted to take her home. Would happily have given her and her mom the money if he could have gotten the visas, but George—the aid worker who had listened in sympathy—had said the best thing Zach could do was get his photographs in front of as many people as he could.

That would help Sari, her mom, and the thousands more in the same condition, but in another five days, Sari had sickened and died. And Zach had stayed, even when things had gotten more dangerous and the charity workers had been asked to leave. Eventually, he had been ordered by the army to go.

He had stayed in his too big, too quiet apartment for a week until he had gotten another call and flown to another hell hole.

“What would you like to do today?”

Zach had to think for a few seconds because he was still drowning in memories and surfacing was getting harder each time.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean would you like to sit on the beach for a while, or by the pool?”

Zach looked at him in horror. “And do what exactly? Sorry,” he added quickly. It wasn’t Josh’s fault. None of it was.

Josh laughed. “Relax. You know that thing you are supposed to be doing while you are here?”

Zach didn’t answer. The need to ask about Ben was nearly overpowering.

“Give him time.”

Zach didn’t bother asking who Josh meant. “Did he tell you we used to live together?” Such a banal expression to use about the love of his life.

“No,” the surprise in Josh’s voice was evident.

“We were together nearly three years. We never got back together after the Sunset shoot in Hawaii.”

He knew by Josh’s silence he understood what he meant, and the significance of it.

“And you didn’t know he was here?”

Zach shook his head. Unable to speak around the bitter taste that swelled in him. “I guess I might go for a walk.” He heard Josh take in a soft breath and understood. “I’ll be careful. My distance vision is actually better than my close up. I’m not going to accidentally walk off a cliff.”

“There aren’t any,” Josh said dryly. “But seriously, you’ll ask if you need anything? Maybe I can show you around. Or Matt—”

“I’ll be fine. Do you really think Seth would have let me come here on my own if I couldn’t look after myself?” Josh didn’t need to know it had been the one condition that Zach had insisted on. He wanted to wallow in his misery, and he didn’t need someone else having a front row seat. He heard the sigh from Josh.

“Okay but promise me you’ll ask if you need anything.”

“I promise,” Zach crossed his heart sarcastically, and Josh left. If I need anything? Zach did, desperately, but he didn’t think Josh could get him it. He didn’t think anyone could.