They had just boarded the chartered yacht in Miami when Dylan said his tummy hurt.

Eli didn’t think much of it. Kids’ tummies seemed to hurt all the time, and most often when they were having to do something they didn’t want to do. Dylan and Seger both would have preferred to stay inside attached to their electronics, but Eli hadn’t given them that option. It was a beautiful day, hot, sunny and breezy, and the water was calling to him.

He tore his longing gaze from where the sapphire horizon met the clear sky and looked at Iris, who was in the process of slathering Dylan with sunblock and frowning at the boy from beneath her floppy hat. She placed a hand to his forehead. “Yeah? Did you get into the cookies when I wasn’t looking?”

He gave a shrug of one shoulder, a sure sign of guilt. “I only ate two cookies.”

“Well, you do feel warm, but it’s hot out here. I bet you’ll feel better in a little while once you start having fun. Maybe once your dad gets you out on the jet ski.”

Dylan accepted this and, his slight body adequately defended against the sun’s rays, ambled over to sit on the white circular couch by his equally pouting brother.

Iris stood from her kneeling position and moved to Eli’s side. She wore her modest black bathing suit today, probably not realizing it made him salivate just as much as the more indecent one she’d worn for him at his parents’ house. If not more. “Do you think he’s okay?” she asked. “I hope he isn’t coming down with something again. Seems too long since we were all sick for him to relapse.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. He didn’t want to come anyway.” That spoiled mentality got under his skin sometimes. These boys hadn’t grown up like Eli had, only a step away from poverty, or they would appreciate outings like this more. He hadn’t set eyes on the ocean for the first time until he was in his twenties and Ruin’s debut album had been a moderate success. “Seventy-foot yacht, and they’d rather stay on the bus. I would have loved to do something like this at their age.”

“I know,” she said gently, lifting a hand from the rail and quickly putting it back. He thought she might’ve meant to touch him before she caught herself. He often did the same thing with her. “Same here. But don’t be too hard on them. They don’t realize. How can they?”

Her coconut scent drifted to him on the breeze, along with her calming, always wise words, and he felt his agitation slip away. She was right, and there was no explaining it to them. This was the world they knew, and it was full of excess. Everything he’d always wanted to give them, he could and did, even though lately he feared it wasn’t the best thing for them.

Still, dammit, they were going to have fun today. In excess.

Iris gazed out at the bay, her expression unreadable behind her oversized sunglasses. How he would love to give her everything too. Take this boat and cruise with her over to the Bahamas. They could be there in only a few hours. Make a week of walking the white sand beaches, holding her hand for all the world to see.

He shouldn’t be fantasizing about indulgences with her when he couldn’t even offer her his hand to hold.

Such a classic, natural beauty. He could hardly take his eyes off her, even when it was necessary. Like now. Before he could, her head turned toward him and those generous lips opened, but the sweetly dirty words he’d love to hear, of course, didn’t come out.

What came out was “Did you put on sunblock?” Her prim tone yanked him rudely from his visions.

He scoffed. “No.”

“You need it.”

“I’m good.”

“You are not good. Let me put some on your back at least. You’re going to fry out here.”

Ah, hell, her touching him at all was dangerous, but he didn’t really need to be in agony tomorrow for the show, so he relented. And for the first time, Iris put her hands on him in front of his boys, her supple fingers slicking the cool lotion over his shoulders and down his back. She did so with almost clinical efficiency, and he tried to maintain his stoic annoyance with her efforts, but it was all he could do not to groan out loud.

“Now,” she said once she was done, her manner scolding in a way he’d love to spank her for later, if she’d be into that. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

He grunted. “Do you need some?”

“No, I managed by myself.”

That was probably for the best. Not that he wouldn’t love to get his hands on her sun-warmed skin, but that would be even more risky. He beat a hasty retreat over to his sons as the captain began to navigate them into the intracoastal.

The boys perked up at their first dolphin sighting in the yacht’s wake, and Iris joined them at the stern to watch the animals leap and frolic in the waves. Dylan cackled happily when one of them surged up to tail walk. Iris recorded the whole thing on her cell phone. Even Seger was grinning.

“Now do you get it?” she asked the boys pointedly over Twenty One Pilots’ “Stressed Out” bumping from the speakers. “There’s so much to do and to see when you actually go outside for a few minutes.”

“We go outside,” Seger protested.

“Maybe five minutes a day, if that,” Eli said. “I know we’re stuck on the bus most of the time but you have to take every opportunity you can get. I feel like I can finally breathe out here.”

Iris gave him an appreciative smile. “Me too.”

He’d been drooling over more than her bathing suit; that jet ski had been calling his name ever since he’d set eyes on it. As soon as they anchored, he was on it, Iris up on the flybridge laughing at him as he hot-dogged. Yeah, so he was showing off, and if it was the last damn thing he did, he would get her on this thing before the day was over. She would love it.

The boys were jumping up and down with excitement to ride with him, so Iris got them strapped into their life vests. He took Dylan first, who held on to him for dear life shrieking every time Eli steered into a sharp turn, sending a spray of water several feet in the air. Then he took him back through their wake, jumping the waves. Dylan’s laughter was a balm to the soul. This was what Eli had been waiting the entire trip for.

Then it was Seger’s turn. His oldest was far more aloof and unflappable, but by the end his arms were like a vise around Eli’s midsection, and he had to grin. As Seger was climbing back up onto the boat, Eli looked up at Iris and called, “Your turn.”

Her mouth fell open. “Huh? No. No way.”

“Go, Iris!” Seger said, reaching the top of the ladder and shaking out his hair.

“He has spoken,” Eli said.

“She’s scared,” Dylan put in.

“You’re absolutely right, Dyl. I’m totally scared.”

Eli gave her a crooked grin. “Of what? Even if you fly off, you’ll only hit the water.” He rode a slow circle as if to demonstrate his next words. “I’ll take it easy on you. Let’s go for a ride, terrified.”

She laughed at that. “Good one. And no, I’m betting you won’t take it easy.”

He gave her a long look, and even though his eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, he could veritably watch her body’s reaction to his perusal. She knew exactly what he was thinking, what he was remembering. Despite their distance from each other—she high on the boat and he down on the water—the summer air between them seemed to shimmer with their secrets.

The chemistry he had with this woman was unreal. Pure magic.

“If she’s not going, then I want to go again,” Seger piped up. “I want to drive it, Dad.”

“Not right now, bud. She’s going.”

Iris cocked her chin up at him. “I am, huh?”

“Take every opportunity, right?”

She regarded him stubbornly for a moment, but no further argument seemed forthcoming. She shrugged off her cover-up, left her hat on the couch, and strode to the ladder.

“You’re gonna have fun, Iris!” Dylan assured her with his always maxed-out enthusiasm.

“Mm-hmm,” she said skeptically. “If you dad doesn’t kill me.”

“Haven’t yet,” Eli teased.

Looking sleek and elegant with her hair piled into a bun and her big sunglasses, she climbed down while he pulled up so she could get on the jet ski behind him. She looked far too beautiful to ruin with a wild ride on the water so, true to his word, once her arms went around him, he eased away from the yacht. And he didn’t miss the caressing slide of her fingers over his stomach, pulling the muscles taut.

“Careful,” he warned over the sound of the engine once they were far enough away, and heard her giggle just before her teeth nipped the skin of his back.

From their angle, there was no way anyone on the boat could see, but he knew every moment her hands were on him was an opportunity for him to lose fucking control. He didn’t care. It felt too good, her body pressed behind him, breasts soft against his back. Eli tried not to focus on it, but he swore he could feel her nipples stiffening against his skin.

Maybe this had actually been a bad idea.

That maybe turned into a certainty when she put her lips to his ear, her husky command going straight to his cock. “Faster.”

He gunned the engine, her arms tightening around him, her happy laughter ringing out behind him.

A watercolor evening painted the western sky. Iris watched it shift and darken as the minutes ticked by, her mind contentedly blank. Had she ever been happier in her life? She didn’t think so, but there was no point in trying to remember. Eli sat beside her on the couch, but at a safe distance. She’d spent the better part of the day pressed against him, though, so it was okay. They’d stolen kisses when they could. Exhaustion lapped pleasantly at her limbs. If she could repeat this day for the rest of her life, she would be okay with that. The day couldn’t get any better.

Dinner aboard the yacht had been sweetly spicy mahi mahi, Jasmine rice, and asparagus with sesame dressing. Dessert had been a decadent white chocolate mousse she could still taste.

It was the life.

“Thanks for this,” she told Eli while the boys bickered at the back of the boat. “It’s been the best day ever.”

“Not yet,” he told her, not looking at her but tilting his head toward her. “Not until I can sneak to your stateroom tonight.”

Inwardly, she shivered, but at least she could attribute the flush creeping up her cheeks to the sun she’d been in all day. “Aw, we have to be quiet again?”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

She’d been wrong. The day could definitely get better. With a smile, Iris tilted her head back and watched the stars begin to peek out, one by one. Out here on the ocean, far away from prying eyes and their questionable future, she could finally let herself relax, could finally let herself dream that maybe everything would turn out okay.

“Dad? My stomach really hurts.”

Dylan’s pronouncement shattered that peace like a stone dropping into a still pond. Snapping to attention, she sat up and eyed the boy from head to foot. He’d seemed okay since mentioning his pain earlier, and she hadn’t thought of it again, hoping it had worn off. But now his little downturned mouth and flushed skin worried her. He’d barely touched dinner, which wasn’t unusual, but he’d even turned down dessert. Which was.

His dad pulled him onto his lap, Dylan curling up and laying his dark head on his chest. Iris caught Eli’s eye with a frown. “Does he feel hot?”

“Yeah, but we’re all hot.”

“I would take his temperature, but I left my thermometer on the bus.” Dammit. I should be prepared for this. She had his EpiPen on her at all times, of course, but had thought surely they could make it through one night without needing to check for a fever.

Eli ruffled his hair. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Maybe, or maybe it was nothing but another bout of stomach flu coming on, but Iris wasn’t convinced. “Dyl, show me exactly where it hurts.”

The boy sat up and pointed toward his belly button.

“And it’s gotten worse all day?”

He nodded, and she went through every question in her arsenal, not wanting to interrupt their evening over a case of gas or constipation. But she didn’t think either of those things would have Dylan in such distress.

Iris took the boy’s hand. “I want you to lie on the couch, and I’m going to press on your tummy a little bit.”

Once he settled on his back, she pushed gently on his right side. “Does that hurt?”

“No.”

Seger wandered over to watch, a frown on his face that made him look older than he was, made him look incredibly like his dad.

“Now tell me if this hurts.” She quickly released the pressure.

“Ow.” The boy’s eyes filled with tears, giving merit to the last suspicion she’d wanted to entertain. She helped him sit up and hugged him tight.

“I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t want it to hurt. Eli, we should get him to the ER, okay? Just to be safe.”

She expected him to argue in his usual bullheaded manner. He’d never struck her as anything but the kind of dad who wouldn’t consider a doctor visit without visible blood. Instead, he studied her face for a moment, looked down at his ailing son with deepening concern, and nodded. “Whatever you think. I’ll tell the captain to take us back.”

Iris didn’t have time to feel relief at that particular milestone. Appendicitis was nothing to mess around with.