Ash opened one eyelid and waited for Sherri to continue her train of thought. It had been almost a week since he’d brought Heather to Casa del Sol and he knew he was running out of excuses for why he was still hanging around. He’d spent the days picking up guests, shuttling them to nearby beaches and running various errands for Sherri, but mostly he’d been watching Heather, waiting for the perfect opportunity to be alone with her.

There hadn’t been one.

“It’s not that I don’t want you here,” Sherri called to Ash, who lounged in one of the hammocks on the side deck. He was in the shade for the moment, but he could feel the hot sun starting to creep over his toes. It wouldn’t take long before he’d need to move. Either that or turn a somewhat undesirable and very painful shade of red.

It was unusual for him to spend so long at Casa del Sol but they both knew why he was there. Ash was just surprised it had taken Sherri so long to bring it up.

“Am I in the way?”

“Not currently.” He opened his eyes to see her standing over him. “But that’s probably because right now you’re hanging out here instead of harassing my newest manager.”

Ash sat up as best he could in the hammock. “I don’t harass Heather.”

He didn’t. Or at least he didn’t think he did. Although he did try to talk to her whenever he had the chance. Not that there were many chances. It was frustrating.

No.

It was a challenge. Because although the attraction between them was still very much there, something had shifted from that first day when she’d rode in his boat, her head tilted back to the sea air, taking it all in. He could have sworn they had a connection. And when they’d kissed…hell. They absolutely had a connection. There was no way he’d imagined any of that.

But why then did it seem like she was avoiding him?

“Don’t you agree, Ash?”

He blinked hard and in an effort to at least look like he’d been paying attention to whatever Sherri’d been saying, he nodded.

“I’m glad you see it my way.”

She slapped her hands together and turned to walk away, leaving Ash with the distinct feeling that he’d just agreed to something he wasn’t going to be pleased about.

“Wait.” He struggled to push out of the hammock, ending up in an awkward twisted mess as he stumbled to the floor. “Sherri. What did I just agree to?”

He caught up with her across the room. Her smile told him he was in trouble.

“You’re going to open up my treehouse today.”

“Your treehouse?” Ash was vaguely aware of Sherri’s treehouse, which was much less of a treehouse and more of a real house situated about a thousand stairs up into the jungle. He knew the house existed. He’d even been in it once to retrieve some extra pots and pans, but to his knowledge, Sherri hadn’t actually used the house in years. She spent her time mostly in grande casa so she could be close to her guests. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard of Sherri up in her treehouse. “Why?”

“Because it’s my house.”

“Right…” Ash followed her into the kitchen and let out a sigh of relief when he didn’t see Camila.

“Don’t worry.” Sherri rolled her eyes. “She moved on.”

“What are you talking about?”

Sherri put one hand on her slight hip and shot him a look that made it more than clear that she wasn’t buying his innocent act. “Luis has been lusting after Camila for months, but for whatever reason, the poor girl thought she had a chance with you. I can’t imagine why.” She rolled her eyes again and shook her head, but Ash could see the humor in her face. “Anyway, the girl came to her senses finally and it would seem that she’s over you.”

“That didn’t take long.” He couldn’t help but be a little offended. Maybe he was easy to get over? It was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe he should ask Camila what—

“Get over yourself.” Sherri smacked him in the arm. “You didn’t want the poor girl anyway. You should have cut her loose ages ago.” She shook her head and opened cupboards, pulling various jars off the shelves and placing them in a box.

“I didn’t have her on the hook.” He didn’t need to explain or defend himself, but Ash couldn’t help it. It wasn’t his fault if Camila had felt something more for him than he was willing to give. Was it?

“You did have her on the hook.” Sherri paused in her gathering, but only for a moment. “That’s the entire problem. You don’t even know you’re doing it.”

“Doing what?”

“Breaking hearts, Ash.”

He shook his head and walked to the other end of the kitchen, where he hefted himself up on the counter. “That’s not fair, Sherri. I’ve never made any claim to want a relationship with any of the women I see. I never promise them anything I’m not willing to give. I’m not that guy.”

That was true. He was totally not that guy. Before getting involved with anyone, he was always very upfront with his intentions. Always.

“I think you’re more of that guy than you care to think.” There was no judgment in Sherri’s voice. “It’s just who you are.”

“It’s not.”

Sherri put the jar of whatever it was she was holding down and turned to him. “Ash. It’s not a bad thing but for all the detachment you claim to have, you’re just not made that way. You, my dear, are a creature of love. You crave it. You need it. At least you think you do.” He opened his mouth to refute everything she was saying, but she held up one finger to silence him. Obediently, he closed his mouth. “It’s not a bad thing, Ash. It’s just who you are. And before you object. I know you’re honest with every woman you get involved with.” She shrugged casually and picked up another jar. “You’re just not very honest with yourself.”

“That’s not true.” He jumped off the counter, ready to walk out of the kitchen and away from everything Sherri was saying. She may be the person in the world who knew him the best, and she might very well be the best friend he had, but she had no idea what it had been like for him back in the States. Even if she knew the details, she didn’t really know. No one did. And Sherri definitely had no idea that no matter what she thought she knew, the one thing Ash didn’t want was love. He absolutely did not crave it and he most certainly did not need it.

He should have walked out. He should have gotten some distance, because there was no way he was going to even attempt to explain any of that to Sherri. There was no point.

But he didn’t walk out, because the next thing that came out of his friend’s mouth stopped him.

“And that’s exactly why you should be careful with Heather.”

“Heather?” Ash moved around the worktable in the middle of the room and took the jar of what looked like Sherri’s chutney out of her hand. “What does this have to do with Heather?”

Sherri stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “I see the way you look at her.”

“Like she’s a beautiful woman?”

“Like you want her to fill a void.”

He shook his head, denying her assessment at the same time a blur of motion out the window caught his attention. “Speaking of Heather.” He gestured with his head, but Sherri didn’t turn around.

“I mean it, Ash. Unless you can finally be real with yourself, you should stay away from her. She can’t help you.”

He didn’t have the faintest idea what Sherri was talking about, but in his experience, that was often the case. She had some very different views on people and love and…basically everything. The thing was, even if Ash didn’t agree right away with Sherri’s thoughts and opinions, even if he originally thought they were totally out of left field…they were almost always right. Which was probably why he didn’t want to hear anything about Heather that didn’t support him pursuing her. Because no matter what Sherri said, it wasn’t going to change the fact that he wanted her.

Man, did he ever.

Ash handed the jar back to her and turned his attention to the window, or more specifically, the woman working beyond it in the garden.

In the short time she’d been at Casa del Sol, Heather had visibly relaxed. Not that she’d been like one of the uptight, over-stressed tourists who often showed up looking to unwind. She hadn’t been like that at all. But there’d been a tension in the way she carried herself. A tightness in her voice, as if she was afraid to say something she shouldn’t. A hesitancy to her actions. It likely wasn’t noticeable to anyone unless they paid attention. But Ash paid attention.

He’d also noticed that she’d thrown herself into the running of Casa del Sol at the expense of any quiet time where he could possibly sneak in and have a replay of that kiss. It was almost as if she was avoiding that very situation from happening.

No way. Ash hadn’t imagined the heat between them. There was no way she wouldn’t want a replay of that.

But the more time that went by without any acknowledgment of their connection, the more he’d started to doubt himself.

Maybe Sherri was right. Maybe Heather couldn’t help him. But then again, he never claimed to need any help at all.

“Maybe it’s not me who needs help.”

It wasn’t a question and Sherri didn’t answer it. Instead, she shook her head and clucked her tongue like an old grandma who knew enough to know there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about him and his ways. “Come on.” She tugged him away from the window. “Stop peeping on the poor woman and help me out. I have a storeroom full of boxes you brought me that aren’t going to move themselves up to the treehouse.”

He’d forgotten all about the treehouse. Heather had a distracting effect on him. Ash surveyed the kitchen and for the first time, really looked at what Sherri was doing. She had a box with a selection of jars and cans, another with bottles of water sat on the floor, and a basket full of freshly picked herbs and vegetable from the garden sat next to it.

There were enough provisions for weeks, maybe more. But that didn’t make sense. Why would she go up into the trees by herself for weeks?

Ash ran a hand through his shaggy hair and for the first time, focused his gaze on her. “Sherri? What’s going on?”

* * *

Heather knelt in the dirt and took her time picking leaves from the mint bushes. She was going to make a big pitcher of mojitos for the afternoon cocktail hour. Besides the lovebird couple who’d been there when she’d arrived, there were two more arrivals, two girlfriends on a holiday, later that afternoon. She assumed Ash would be going to get them in Bocas Town. But that was a pretty big assumption considering she hadn’t asked him.

She’d have to talk to him in order to do that.

Which, of course, would mean she’d need to stop avoiding him long enough to have a conversation. Not that she’d really been avoiding him.

Not entirely. She’d just been giving him some space in an effort to be honest with herself.

It had made sense at the time after Sherri’s conversation with her, but as the days went on, she could no longer remember what she was trying to achieve with that plan.

Heather sighed and tried for the hundredth time to ignore the fluttering low in her belly every time she thought about Ash and the kiss they’d shared.

She plucked at the mint bush, filling her little basket with the fragrant green leaves before she scanned the rest of the little garden. There were mostly plants she didn’t recognize, which wasn’t hard to believe because she’d never been much of a gardener. But in the few days that she’d been there, she was learning a little bit. Mostly, just enough to fetch garnishes for Camila or Sherri, but maybe with a little time, she’d actually be able to identify enough of the plants to possibly even cook a meal. Not that her food would be better than Camila’s. It wouldn’t even come close to the deliciousness that she could create. But Heather missed a real kitchen. She missed being able to fool around with ingredients and create something.

She’d never been allowed in the kitchen at the marina. Not that she would have wanted to cook anything in there. It was a typical, lifeless commercial kitchen. Food couldn’t be created with love when there was no life.

She wasn’t in a hurry to get in front of the stove yet, but soon. Just being at Casa del Sol was starting to wake her up. She hadn’t fully realized it, but there was part of Heather that had been sleeping, or hiding, for a long time. Even before Joe and his betrayal. Long before. Maybe a little sunshine, sea air, and freedom was what she needed.

She needed something else, too.

That increasingly familiar heat in her belly reminded her that there was definitely more she needed.

But not from Ash.

Maybe from Ash.

Why not Ash?

“Ash!”

Heather jerked backward so fast, her hand caught on the basket and dumped the mint leaves she’d been collecting.

“Shit.”

She started to collect the leaves. More like she started to pretend to collect the leaves while she kept her eyes trained on the door of the kitchen, where Ash had appeared, carrying a large crate. At least she was fairly sure it was Ash, as she couldn’t see his face through the box he was carrying.

But she didn’t need to see. It was Ash.

He took another step out the door and half turned behind him to say something to Sherri, who’d yelled at him from inside. “I got it, Sher.”

The older woman appeared in the doorway next. “So help me—if you step on any of my plants…”

Ash laughed and took a few more steps into the garden. Closer to Heather. “I got this. Stop worrying.”

“I don’t know,” Heather said, unable to help herself from joining in. “I’d be a little worried.”

Ash jostled the crate and took a step backward, visibly surprised to hear her voice. For a split second, Heather was afraid he was not only going to step on the plants that Sherri was so protective of, but her as well. She jumped up to help him steady the crate as he bent to set it down.

Their eyes met and Heather knew by the twinkle in his green depths that he’d been well aware of her presence all along.

A thrill shot through her. Cocky bastard.

“Hi, Heather.”

“Hey.” She tried for casual, but there was no way she pulled it off. Avoiding Ash was one thing. Trying to pretend that his proximity didn’t stir up all kinds of feelings that made her want to throw all her ideals and good intentions out the window was a completely different thing altogether. “Moving out?” Not that he’d even moved in. In fact, it occurred to her that she didn’t really know where Ash lived.

“Don’t worry.” He crossed his arms over his perpetually bare chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The trip of relief in her gut didn’t make any sense.

“The only place you’re going, Romeo, is up to the treehouse with that crate. My things aren’t going to move themselves.”

“Where are you going?” Heather looked between them. “What’s the treehouse?”

Sherri’s smile was broad. “My house, honey.”

“I thought you lived…” She trailed off, because, like Ash, Heather had no idea where Sherri lived. She just always seemed to be around.

“I don’t live in grande casa.” Sherri laughed. “Although I’m sure it seems that way. Truthfully, I’ve been spending my nights there since you came, but it’s time for me to go home.”

Abandoning her basket of mint, Heather picked her way through the garden toward Sherri. She had to walk past Ash, stepping around the crate he’d set down. She tried hard not to breathe in as she moved past him, but it didn’t work. His sexy scent filled her senses and her body shivered involuntarily.

“Cold, Heather?” She ignored him and the laughter in his voice. The man knew exactly what he did to her and she couldn’t decide whether that pissed her off or turned her on.

“Sherri.” She focused on her friend. “I don’t understand. Did I take your room? Where’s home? And why…I mean…why are you…”

“Why am I leaving you?”

Heather nodded and Sherri chuckled before she squeezed her arm. “It’s not like I’m going far. I’m just going up the hill to my house in the trees.”

“But I need—” She stopped herself before she finished the thought. The last thing Heather needed was her new boss thinking that she couldn’t handle the job of running the B&B. After all, she’d only just started. She didn’t want Sherri to fire her for incompetence. More than anything, she wanted to stay.

“You don’t need me, honey. You’ve got this. Besides, I’ll be just up the hill.”

“And I’ll be here.”

Heather squeezed her eyes shut. Ash’s presence was both reassuring and unsettling. She couldn’t quite make out the expression on Sherri’s face. For a moment, she thought the older woman might protest Ash’s comment.

Sherri seemed to hesitate before she nodded. “Yes. Ash will be around if you need anything.” With a gentle hand, Sherri gripped Heather’s chin and looked into her eyes. “You’ll be fine. This is exactly where you need to be.”

She couldn’t find any words that made sense, and afraid she might cry and make a bigger fool out of herself, Heather simply nodded again. She would be fine. And it was ridiculous, because it wasn’t as though Sherri was leaving her permanently. She was moving up the hill. She’d be close.

But if that was true, why then, as she watched Ash and Sherri move away from her, down the path and up the hill, did it feel as if she was losing her friend, just as she’d found her?

* * *

It took Ash four trips up to the treehouse to get all of Sherri’s things in place. Of course, those were four very long trips, as her treehouse was straight up the hill and, as far as Ash could figure, about five thousand stairs away.

And he was pretty sure he wasn’t exaggerating.

On the last trip up, Sherri came with him. Even with the heavy crate in his arms, she was much slower than he was. Ash stopped to rest a few times and each time, he turned to see her carefully picking her way up the wooden steps. She was moving slow. Too slow.

Something was wrong. He could feel it. There was more to Sherri’s move up the hill than she was letting on.

When he finally reached the top, Ash deposited the crate on the floor next to the others, went to Sherri’s small fridge and grabbed one of the beers he’d stashed there earlier. He sat outside on a bamboo chair, cracked his beer and waited.

A few minutes later, Sherri rounded the corner, ascending the last few stairs. “I expected to see you on your way down already.”

Ash shook his head. “Nah. I wanted to wait for you.” He took a deep slug of his beer, letting the icy liquid slide down his throat. “You know, make sure you got up okay.”

She tilted her head and eyed him suspiciously as she stepped up on the porch. Ash handed her his beer, which she took silently, taking a deep drink herself before she sat next to him.

He waited, and a few moments later, she let out a long breath before she spoke. “You want to know what’s up.”

It wasn’t a question but Ash nodded.

“I’m surprised you haven’t looked yet.”

“It’s your stuff.” He didn’t bother adding that he’d been dying to know what was inside, but then he’d also have to admit that there was part of him that didn’t want to know. In his experience, large secret packages weren’t always a good thing.

She nodded her head inside, where the crates were stacked and waiting. “Take a look.”

Ash didn’t immediately get up. Instead, he finished the beer Sherri had handed back, taking his time to savor it before slowly setting it down next to him. “You’re sure?”

Sherri nodded.

The crates were typical, nondescript wooden boxes. The only indication Ash had that he wasn’t going to like what was inside was the knowledge that he picked them up from the medical center in Bocas Town. He may have put it off as normal medical supplies for the B&B, except for the fact that he’d just spent the last few hours carrying them up the hill where Sherri planned to be on her own.

He picked up a nearby hammer and readied to pry the lid off the first box, but stopped himself. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me something first?”

She looked older and more worn-down than he’d ever seen her when she shook her head.

Ash didn’t handle bad news well. He avoided it, choosing to live his life as one ongoing good time, which was the entire reason he’d moved to Panama in the first place. Bad things didn’t happen in paradise. But he knew as he pried the first board, and then the second, from the top of the crate, that his perfectly planned good time was about to come to some sort of end. And short of dropping the hammer and heading back down the hill, he wasn’t going to be able to avoid it.

He could have done it a whole lot faster, but when he finally had the boards off and stacked neatly on the floor next to him, Ash reached in and pushed the packing material aside to expose long, stainless-steel tubes. He dug further, finding a wheeled base, and a long, stainless-steel hook. He pulled a piece of the contraption out and turned around, a question on his face.

“What is…”

“An IV stand.”

He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to know.

He already knew.

“I’m sick, Ash.”

He knew.

He’d known for a long time. She’d slowed down. She looked frail. Smaller somehow. Her eyes were clouded; the life that was usually there had dimmed.

Ash nodded and turned back to the crates. Without speaking, he opened the rest of them before he slowly looked through the contents: saline bags, needles, pills, and boxes containing carefully packaged vials. Judging by the warning labels on the packages, whatever they were, they were some pretty intense drugs.

Sherri didn’t say a word while Ash completed his investigation. When he was finished, he got up, went inside and got two more beers before he returned to the porch. He handed one to Sherri and sat next to her.

“Cancer,” was all she said. “Second time.”

Ash nodded in acknowledgment. There was nothing to say.

Cancer.

Cancer killed people. It killed people when they were receiving the best possible care in the world, in a state-of-the-art hospital with professional doctors and nurses administering the treatment.

Sherri was alone, in a jungle in the middle of a third world country and from everything he could see, it looked as if she planned on treating herself.

He shook his head, tipped his bottle back and drank deep and long before he wiped his mouth with his arm.

“Why?”

“I’ve been through it before, Ash. I have leukemia. The doctors told me I’d have to take the medication for the rest of my life and I didn’t think I would have to.” She shrugged casually. “It’s fine, because I’m going to beat it again. It’s very treatable and I know what to do.”

“You need a doctor.” He looked straight ahead, unable to meet her eyes.

“What I need is to be surrounded by life and love.”

“You’re going to die.”

“Maybe. But if I’m going to die, I’m going to do it on my own terms.”

Her voice finally shook, and Ash was out of his chair, kneeling in front of the woman who’d become more than a friend to him in the last few years. She was family. She was his only family.

They didn’t speak. They didn’t cry. They simply sat together. Ash squeezed his eyes shut, willing his energy—his positive, healthy energy—to flow into her. Finally, Sherri squeezed his hand. “It’ll be okay.”

They both knew there was a good chance that it would be anything but okay.

He nodded and jumped to his feet, determined to help where he could. “Of course it will.” He believed what he said. He didn’t have a choice. He’d lost too much; he couldn’t—no, he wouldn’t—lose her too.

* * *

Heather didn’t have time to think about what Sherri was doing up the hill in her treehouse because she still had a job and a B&B to run. While Ash was busy moving crates up and down the stairs, the two new guests had arrived, compliments of a water taxi from Bocas Town.

She had the jug of mojitos ready for the two friends and after getting them settled into the bungalow closest to grande casa, they’d returned to partake in the drinks.

One of the best parts of the job, and the part that Heather knew she’d like the most, was the constant change of interesting and creative people. Sandy and Miranda were old friends from California. They’d known each other for twenty years, and made a point every year to go away together for two weeks to escape their lives back home.

From the moment they’d arrived on the dock, they hadn’t stopped talking and laughing. They were exactly the type of friends Heather once had back home before she’d moved to Panama with Joe. It brought a smile to her face just listening to them, but it also gave her a little twinge of nostalgia.

She’d given up a lot of things for Joe. Too many things.

But that time was over. She pushed her shoulders back, inhaled a deep breath of ocean air and breathed all the negativity out. There was no room for it at Casa del Sol.

Heck, there was no room for it in her soul. It was time for her. And she was going to start by joining her guests for a mojito.

She finished mixing the second round of drinks and carried it over, along with a new glass for herself, to the dock where the women were enjoying the late afternoon sun.

“Mind if I join you?” Heather set her glass down before she refilled the other women’s cups.

Sandy smiled and waved to the empty wooden chair. “Any woman who makes mojitos as good as these is a friend of mine.” She took a long sip with her straw. A satisfied groan escaped her and she laid her head back. “It’s paradise.”

Heather laughed.

“It really is,” Miranda agreed. “You may just be the luckiest woman ever because you actually live here.”

She couldn’t disagree with that statement, so she didn’t. Instead, Heather joined in the easy conversation, learning about their busy lives back home, filled with careers, children, and husbands. No wonder they needed a holiday—it all sounded completely exhausting.

And absolutely wonderful.

It’s not that she wanted what Sandy and Miranda had back home.

Not at all.

Heather had never wanted that life for herself. The busy wife and mother route was right for some people, but it had never appealed to her. Even so, listening to the women talking with such love in their voices, despite the stress that obviously carried them through their days, she couldn’t help but feel a little envious. She may not have wanted exactly what they had, but she did want the companionship. The love.

She allowed herself a moment of jealousy, but only a moment.

“Who is that?” Miranda sat straight up in her chair, her mouth all but hanging open. Before she even turned to look, Heather knew exactly who she was talking about.

It could only be Ash.

When Sandy looked over her shoulder to see what her friend was gawking at and had almost an identical reaction, Heather followed their gaze in order to confirm. “That’s Ash. He helps out around here.”

Just like every other time she saw him, her body lit up with a heat that grew from deep inside.

“And who exactly is Ash?”

“If I wasn’t married—”

“But you are.” Miranda cut off her friend and they both dissolved in giggles.

“True, true.” Sandy clucked her tongue. “But if I wasn’t…ohh baby.”

Heather shook her head. “I should get him to put a shirt on.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“What?”

The friends yelled at the same time, drawing attention from the object of their conversation. Ash waved, and for a moment Heather was sure the ladies were going to swoon right off the dock and into the water. Although, that might not be a bad thing; they both clearly needed to cool down. Heather made a mental note to make the next batch of drinks virgin.

“Okay, okay.” She held up her hands in surrender. “No shirt. I promise. But I should go talk to him and see what’s going on.” She laughed along with their whoops of approval before she excused herself. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

“With drinks!”

“Of course.” She winked before she made her retreat.

Yes. The next batch was definitely going to be non-alcoholic.

Ash watched her with his signature sexy smile as she walked down the dock toward him.

“Looks like you have quite a party going on down there.” He waved a hand toward the women, who burst into a fit of giggles at the attention.

Heather shook her head, but she absolutely loved it. As far as she was concerned, if her guests were having fun, she was doing her job. Especially with Sherri gone, she felt an increased sense of responsibility. Not that she was gone. But for as far up the hill as her treehouse was, she might as well be.

She wanted to ask Ash what was going on and whether Sherri was okay. She wanted to ask him what it meant for her and her job. What if she had questions? What if she didn’t know what to do with a guest? Or had a problem? Or—

“You look worried.” The concern in his eyes was genuine, and there was something else in his gaze. Sadness, maybe?

“I am,” she admitted. “I mean, is it normal for Sherri to go up to the treehouse? It looked like she was moving up there permanently and I know I haven’t been here long, but it just seems to me that she is this place. The life-force, you know what I mean?”

“I do.” He leaned back against the counter and stared out to the ocean. “And you’re right. Sherri built Casa del Sol with her own two hands. Did you know that?”

Heather shook her head. She hadn’t.

“She had some help, of course. But everything in this place is her doing. She designed it, hammered nails, supervised it, poured her heart into it. No matter what happens, her spirit is always going to be here.”

The hair on her arms stood and ice pricked at the back of her neck. “What do you mean, no matter what happens? What’s going on?”

Ash immediately realized his mistake. In a flash, the look of concern was replaced by his smile. He ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing’s going on. Sherri just needed a little time on her own. Besides, I think she knows that Casa del Sol is in good hands with you. She’s not worried about a thing with you around.”

He made it sound like more than a professional compliment, but a personal one as well, and Heather felt the blush from the roots of her hair.

“I love it here.”

“I love having you here.”

Her head snapped up and she stared at him. Had he really just said that?

She laughed it off. “I’ve barely even spoken to you.” She moved to the side, needing space from him in order to think clearly.

Yes. Space was good. Space would keep her from jumping into his arms again. Whenever he was near, all she wanted to do was feel his lips pressed on hers again. Whatever space she’d been trying to give herself was becoming less and less important by the minute. “You probably just love having someone else to do some of the work around here.” She grabbed a rag and wiped down the bar.

“It’s not by choice.” He stilled her hand with his own and Heather had to fight to keep her legs from buckling under her, his touch had such a strong effect on her. “You’ve been avoiding me, Heather.”

She started to shake her head but there was no point in denying anything.

“You don’t have to avoid me.”

She laughed involuntarily. It came out as a bizarre chuckle. “I’m not.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Okay,” she admitted. “I was avoiding you. But only because I was busy getting things organized and learning the ropes around here and I really don’t have—”

He put his hand on her arm, stopping her words. The touch was gentle but at the same time, Heather couldn’t help but feel the heat. She turned to him so they were only inches apart. He looked down at her with an intensity and fire that lit her from deep inside.

She’d done her best to silence her internal voice, but it was currently screaming at her because her body was reacting so incredibly hard to his presence and there was no way that could be a bad thing. She’d given up way too much in the last few years, including her sexuality; maybe it was time to get that back. And if it wasn’t, then why was everything inside her telling her to kiss the man in front of her and throw all of her reasons and excuses into the ocean?

“Heather?” His voice broke the spell she was under and she stepped back out of his grasp. It was a good thing, too, because the ring of laughter from the dock reminded her that her guests weren’t far away.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded quickly, took a deep breath and smiled widely. “I’m absolutely fine. I think maybe drinking that mojito out in the sun was a bad idea. It went right to my head.”

He nodded, but there was no way he looked convinced. “You should have some water. It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea for those two either.” He pointed to the friends, who were now tugging their T-shirts over their heads to reveal their bikini-clad bodies. “Getting sunstroke on the first day of a holiday is never a good idea.”

“True.” Heather moved around the counter to prepare a jug. “And I absolutely don’t want to be responsible for that.” She forced a lightness into her voice.

“I’ll tell you what.” Ash was around the counter and so close to her that she didn’t trust herself to turn around. “I’ll take the water out to them.”

She nodded and felt the weight of the jug leave her hands.

Heather closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing to slow her beating heart. She knew when he moved away, because the air felt thinner, less charged.

She opened her eyes and looked straight into his eyes.

Before he turned away to walk out to the dock, he said, “You can’t avoid me forever.”

His words felt like a promise. A promise she realized she desperately wanted him to keep.