Dawson looked out over the water, his tour today only half-full. He drew in a deep breath and appreciated the clear blue sky, the darker blue slash of water at the bottom of his window. A puff of white came up, and he said, “We have whales out the left side, ten o’clock.”

He slowed to a hover so the family of three inside could watch. “Those are pilot whales,” he said, their massive bodies a slightly darker color than the water, which made them easy to spot. “I can see five, maybe six.”

Increased splashing commenced out the front windshield, and he turned the helicopter slightly. “Those are spotted dolphins,” he said. “Looks like a big pod. Maybe fifty or one hundred. They’ve found a school of herring, one of their favorite foods.”

He often saw whales, Hawaiian monk seals, and dolphins on his tours. He loved them, but he’d recited the same facts so many times he sounded like a flight attendant telling passengers how to put on their oxygen masks in the event of an emergency.

“The whales probably heard them splashing around and came to feast.” At that moment, a big whale bolted straight up out of the water, and the family went wild. Even Dawson said, “Oh, wow! That’s called a lunge feed.” He watched the water settle again. “The pod scared the herring into one tight pod. Then that whale dove down deep and came shooting up, out of the water, his mouth open to catch as many fish as possible.”

A smile touched his mouth and stayed. Even he didn’t get to see a lunge feed very often. They stayed a while longer, watching the whales skim the surface and occasionally show their flukes as they dove.

He said, “Are we ready to move on?”

“Yes,” the dad said, and they settled back into their seats to continue. Their daughter, a girl probably close to thirteen or fourteen, couldn’t stop talking about the whales and dolphins. Her animation and joy was infectious, and Dawson finished his tour with real happiness coursing through him.

He landed on the pad with barely a bump, and helped everyone out of the helicopter. He got a great tip and turned toward the building with his stomach roaring at him to eat something. Stephen hurried toward him, anxiety all over his face.

“What’s wrong?” Dawson asked, forgetting about food and striding forward.

“A woman named Charlotte called.” Stephen looked at him with wide eyes and turned to walk with Dawson inside. “She said she tried your cell, but I told her you were out on a flight. She sounded quite upset, like she was crying.”

Dawson’s heart raced, and he fumbled with the zipper on the side of his thigh, where he kept his phone in a safe pocket.

Sure enough, Charlotte had called four times, all within ten minutes of each other. “How long ago did she call?” he asked, trying to figure out if he could leave right now, in the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday, and where she would be if he did.

“About a half an hour.” Stephen opened the door and Dawson walked in. “I told her when you’d be back.”

“Thank you, Stephen.” Dawson gave him the best smile he could muster and tapped the button to call Charlotte back.

“Hey,” he said when she answered, her voice tinny and miles away. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

Only sniffling came through the line, which meant she wasn’t somewhere public. Desperation dove through him with the speed and power of that pilot whale lunging out of the ocean to eat. “Charlotte, baby. Tell me what’s going on. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He was surprised by the tenderness in his own voice, but he wasn’t embarrassed.

With the swiftness of a lightning bolt, he realized he was in love with her. Shaken, and with his heart now catapulting around inside his chest, he paced in front of the windows overlooking the bay as he waited for her to answer.

“Hunter’s here,” she said, her voice catching. “On the island. My island.”

He froze. “You talked to him?”

“No, he didn’t see me.” She wasn’t giving him the whole picture, and he wasn’t sure why she was so upset if she hadn’t interacted with her ex-husband at all.

“Okay, where are you?”

“In my car.”

Dawson’s frustration grew at the same rate his concern had. He wasn’t sure why she was so upset if nothing had really happened, if there’d been no words said, and if she was safe. “Okay—” he started, but she interrupted with, “I don’t think I can keep seeing you.”

That punched the air right out of his lungs. He grappled with how to breathe, wanting to speak at the same time and finding himself unable.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a rush. “I thought I was okay, and that maybe I’d be able to figure things out, but seeing Hunter and his girlfriend—wife—whatever—I just—I’m not ready. I’m a mess, and I’m just not ready.”

Not ready for what? Dawson wanted to ask, but he couldn’t get the words out.

“I’m sorry,” she said again and hung up.

Dawson’s hand fell from holding the phone at his ear, and he stared out the window unseeing. Had she really just broken up with him over the phone? Because she’d seen her ex-husband?

“Everything okay?” Stephen asked, and Dawson swung his head toward his boss in slow motion.

He shook his head, and Stephen said, “I can move your next tour to Javier. He only has three and you have six. It’ll be a tight fit, but we can do it, if you need to go.”

But Dawson didn’t have anywhere to go. No one to see. Numbness spread through him, and he shook his head again. “I don’t have to go.” He needed someplace quiet to think for a minute. He turned away from the windows and Stephen. “Oh, and there’s a pod of pilot whales and dolphins out there. We saw a lunge feed. I’ll send you the coordinates.”

He walked away, because he didn’t know what else to do. In the break room, he found boxes of pizza, but he went right past them, his appetite completely gone. What was he going to do without Charlotte in his life?

Before her, he hadn’t even realized how empty his days were. How boring it was to get up and run in the morning, fly a helicopter around the island all day, and go home to a leaking kitchen sink in a house that wasn’t even his.

He stepped into a darker, quieter place and lay down on one of the cots. No one would bother him here, and he could spent the twenty minutes before his next tour alone.

Always alone.

Dawson finished his tours for the day, and the next one. He only spoke to Stephen, JJ, and the tourists, going home to his trailer on the beach to heat up something in the microwave. Wes had texted and then called to find out about Christmas and what Dawson’s plans were.

He hadn’t answered, but he was seriously considering leaving Getaway Bay, at least for a little while. Maybe a week while he went to San Diego to visit his family. He’d already told his brother he wasn’t coming, but what would they do? Slam the door in his face?

He didn’t put such an action past his father, but his mom would probably be glad to see him. Rich too. Bronson would probably tuck his tail and hide until he was sure Dawson wasn’t going to clock him in the mouth, and then that would be okay too.

Problem was, Dawson wanted to hit everything, and going home in such an emotional state wouldn’t be good for anyone.

He just wanted to talk to Charlotte. He’d sent her a dozen texts that had all gone unanswered. He’d called twice and gotten her voicemail. It was like she’d completely disappeared, the way he wanted to.

Feeling brave, he dialed the number to Your Tidal Forever and got a chirpy woman who answered with, “How can I help you find your tidal forever?”

“Can you transfer me to Charlotte Madsen, please?” He pressed his eyes closed, hoping she wouldn’t ask who he was or why he was calling.

“I’m sorry, but Charlotte’s out for the week.”

“Out?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. She’s taken vacation. Which wedding is this referring to? I’ll make sure she knows to make it a priority when she returns.”

Dawson hung up. “She’s taken vacation.” He swiped his keys from the counter and headed outside. The drive up to her house usually took ten minutes from his spot on the beach, but today he got there in five.

Her car wasn’t there, but he parked and walked to the front door anyway. He knocked and called her name, but of course she didn’t come. She also didn’t lock her house, so he went inside, feeling very much like a stalker or an intruder. He couldn’t decide which was worse.

The place felt abandoned, like she’d packed in a hurry and rushed out. Though everything sat in its place and was clean, it didn’t hold her spirit anymore.

He turned and left, angry and frustrated and disappointed at the same time. He needed to just see her, talk to her face-to-face. She couldn’t just break up with him over the phone and be done. She just couldn’t.

His next thought was to track down Hunter and get him off the island as fast as possible. But he didn’t even know the man’s last name, as Charlotte had gone back to using her maiden name after the divorce. Just another thing she hadn’t told him.

Climbing behind the wheel of his SUV, Dawson had to acknowledge that Charlotte really wasn’t ready to be in a serious relationship. She hadn’t even told him some of the most basic things—like what her married name had been.

And yet, he’d gone and fallen in love with her. A sigh leaked from his body, and he knew he didn’t want to be on the island if she wasn’t.

He swiped and tapped on his phone, finally getting to the right place. “Stephen,” he said. “Sorry it’s so last-minute, but how hard would it be for me to have a few days off around Christmas? I want to go see my family in San Diego.”