Isabel Kind sat in the dining room, attempting to join in on the talking, the people, and the fun. Her sister had made her promise she go and eat in the dining room, that was why she was here. She stuffed three bites of food down. These days, the only reason she ate was because she had to. She’d lost too much weight, and too many people had worried over her since everything had happened, namely her sister and her mother. So she ate what she could. And she’d put on her emerald dress on tonight, the one her sister had insisted she pack for the dining room.

Frankly, it’d been easy to tell the lie to her sister and parents—that this trip was about going on a singles’ cruise. Not the real truth of what the trip was about.

It had been a relief for her family, she knew. And she didn’t blame them. She knew she was a downer. Even when she tried not to be.

“Would you like to dance?”

Looking up, she saw the older man, probably in his fifties, who’d been bugging her all day at the excursion. He’d not so casually kept up an ongoing dialogue with her no matter what she was doing or who else she was talking to. She’d tried to respect him and have fun. When he’d obnoxiously interrupted her discussion with the guy who knocked her into the pool last night, she’d found she wasn’t happy to be dragged away from the guy. There was something about the bearded man that seemed to connect with her.

“So are we doing this or not?” Mustache guy’s name was Dave she’d found out earlier. Dave was a loud talker who asked her questions but never listened, just wanted to explain why he’d been divorced three times. It’d been fine. She’d mostly just allowed him to talk all day, nodding and focusing on letting her mind wander to the list of excursions she had to complete. The list of excursions she had been planning on going on with her husband and son. Before. The list that was going to help her move on. That list that her therapist, June, had thought was a good idea. She hesitated.

Dave put his hand out and smiled. “It’s just a dance, and you look so pretty.”

Sincerity, he did have that. She sighed and stood. If he was here and single, he was probably in a bad situation too, right? She hadn’t really dated in five years. She didn’t count the three set-ups her sister had tried to force on her. Still, even with her limited experience, the thing she had learned was that if you were over thirty and single, you usually had a story.

“Okay.” This was what her sister and mother had spent hours telling her she needed to do on this trip—reach out. Smile. Make a friend. Now she could tell them she tried.

The song was slow, and the guy took her into a middle school kind of back and forth swaying. So that’s how this dance would be. He was a bit off beat too, but no biggie. It’s not like they were being judged in some dance competition.

“You haven’t told me much about you.” Dave released her and awkwardly tried to let her go then pull her back in.

She wanted to respond that he talked enough for both of them. “I’m not a huge talker.”

“I love your name. Isabel Kind. It’s a good name.”

“Thank you.” The best things about guys like this was that she didn’t have to think too much about what to say.

“Are you having fun?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

He launched into a whole story about how fun cruises were and how he and all three of his previous wives had been on cruises. He flashed her a smile. “They’re so … romantic, don’t you think?” His eyes swept up and down her.

She got a weird feeling. “Not really.”

The guy did the look from your eyes to your breasts thing really quickly. “You don’t think?”

“I’m here for the excursions,” she said and meant it.

“You know there are about twenty-five singles on this cruise? I know you weren’t at the meeting the first night.” He lifted a hand in dismissal. “Anyway, some of us were talking. Would you want to meet us for a party after this?”

She wasn’t interested and was suddenly extremely bored with this man and his travelling eyes.

One of his hands on her hip was edging down her backside.

She grabbed it and put it back on her waist, giving him a muted smile. “No, thank you.” Yes, those words had a double meaning. No, I don’t want to hang out with you, and no, I don’t want your hand on my butt.

“Are you planning on getting off tomorrow at Grand Cayman? A group of us is going to see the stingrays.”

In fact, going to the stingrays was on her list. Well, on her husband’s list for her and her son. “Maybe.” She wasn’t going to end up with Dave and the rest of the group.

“You should.” He grinned at her and dropped the other hand lower. At the same time, he blatantly checked out her breasts again.

Not wanting to cause a scene, she put his hand back and couldn’t wait for the song to get over. “There are so many great excursions aren’t there?” She wanted to prove to her sister and mom she could do this. Be normal.

He grinned. “Look, if you can’t come tonight, that’s okay. You should spend the whole day with the group of us tomorrow though. We’re meeting to get off the boat at seven thirty by the pool.”

“I don’t know.” She was noncommittal again, and it bugged her that they were going to the same place she was going. “Maybe.”

He twirled her out, and she thought that maybe this dance was getting better. Then he spun her in quickly, pulling her body flush against his. “Awesome.” He rubbed one hand up and down from shoulder to almost her knee and back up.

Letting go of his hand, she pulled away. “Not okay.”

He tightened his grip on her hand and tried to spin her again. “C’mon, sorry.” He let out a light laugh. “Maybe I’ve had a little too much to drink, but it’s all in fun. Keep dancing. I promise I’ll keep my hands where they should be.”

She was done. “Let go,” she said, not dancing, just staring at his oaf of a hand that held hers.

He stopped dancing too. “Hey, Dave doesn’t treat the ladies badly.”

She was confused. “Are you talking about yourself in third person?”

A more serious look washed over his face. “Man, are you always this much of a buzzkill?”

She grinned, feeling happier than she’d felt about being rude to a guy than she had in a long time. “Let me go, or you’re going to get very familiar with my knee in a place you don’t want it.”