“Maybe.”
Stroking her temple some more because he liked it and because he could, he weighed what he wanted to say versus what she probably needed to hear. This was important and he didn’t want to flub it up.
“We got serious really fast. And we’re at different places in our lives now. You’re a business owner. I took on the biggest consulting gig of my career and it came with hefty responsibilities.” Grasping at straws and totally out of his depth, he took a stab at helping her make sense of things. “Neither of us really has the luxury of a permanent relationship, and the kiss was about nothing more than being in the moment.”
No. It hadn’t been. That was so far from the truth, he should take it back immediately. That kiss had been about need. About exploring what had changed, what was exciting about who they were now.
Deny it, Cara. Tell me it meant something.
“That’s the problem.” Her mouth turned down. “A relationship is what I want. Or I did. Now I don’t think I do.”
“What do you want?” He was clearly so bad at this, so bad at reading her, he should win a Terrible Person in a Crisis award.
“My whole life I’ve wanted to have a big wedding and be blissfully happy as Mrs. Someone. And then you left.” She speared him through the heart with a baleful glance and went on without even giving him an opportunity to counter the offense. “I told myself no more pining for what obviously isn’t meant to be and put my head down to make something of Cara Chandler-Harris Designs. When I looked up, I had a wedding dress business instead of a husband. And that’s probably what should have happened. During the last few days, I realized I don’t even know what love is.”
Misery pulled at her expression, dampening her eyes, and it was so painful, Keith cupped her face with his palms, forcing her to look at him. “Who does? You think Meredith and Paolo are in love and that’s why she knows the answers to a few inane questions? Love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
Love probably didn’t even exist. It had never touched his existence in any form or fashion. But the greeting card industry would have the entire world believing in it if it had its way. So what did he know?
“Obviously.” She made a face. “It’s just hard. I thought I was trying to get over you, and instead I got a great big wake-up call that I have no idea what a relationship should be. Now what am I supposed to do?”
“Sounds like you need a hot and heavy tropical island fling with someone who knows how to treat you right,” he suggested with an eyebrow lift. “No pressure. No wedding bells in the future. It would be nothing but two consenting adults having some fun.”
Which was not so coincidentally what he needed, too, more than he could possibly explain to her. Or himself. That’s why he preferred to keep things temporary and easy—because he wasn’t good at anything else.
“That would be great, except Paolo seems pretty happy with my sister.”
“Ouch.” It took every ounce of his considerable stamina to utter that one word without sounding pathetic.
She eyed him. “I’ll take your words of wisdom under advisement, okay? Thanks for hanging out with me, but I’m beat and I just need to shut my eyes in a tomorrow-is-another-day kind of thing.”
He’d been dismissed. Soundly. “Get some sleep. I’ll be around.”
Keith let himself out and cursed the fates that had seen fit to strand him on an island with a woman he wanted more than his next breath but couldn’t seem to get naked.
Somehow he’d managed to have an emotionally charged conversation and gotten through it without having a heart attack. And he had the distinct impression he’d also managed to give Cara the support she’d needed without taking a thing for himself.
What was she doing to him?
He dashed through the rain to the other building and went to his room instead of back to the party. He preferred being alone anyway, didn’t he?
* * *
When Cara opened her eyes, she was shocked to note the clock read 7:00 a.m.
The lump in the next bed had appeared sometime during the night. Cara hadn’t even heard Meredith come in. Either her sister had learned to enter a hotel room at something less than the force of a tornado, or Cara had been more exhausted than she’d realized. She’d slept the whole night through without waking once.
After the kiss and Keith being all understanding and strong and spread out over her bed like the best possible thing she could have ordered from room service, she’d been convinced the combination would result in a sleepless night of tossing and turning.
Apparently not.
She rolled from the bed and peeked out the window in the off chance it had stopped raining. It hadn’t. She rolled her twinging ankle. Not too sore today. Maybe it would be fun to jog on the beach in the rain. At least the odds of running into Keith were slim.
She was still downhearted to discover all her hopes and dreams were twisted up. And she had no crystal ball to help her sort out what her real goals were. What they should be. Keith would only make her confusion worse.
He met up with her ten yards outside her door.
“Run with me?” he asked casually as if everything was cool between them.
And really, wasn’t it? As he’d said, neither of them was in a good place for a relationship. He knew she was an emotional mess and hadn’t fled screaming into the night. Nor had he tried to take advantage of her while she’d been conflicted and upset.
The invitation to slide beneath the sheets with him had been quite clear. But he’d never pressed her, choosing to let the invitation stand without being obnoxious about it.
Keith had been very gentlemanly last night, all things considered. He deserved a break.
“Sure. I’d like to run with you.”
To his credit, he didn’t make a wisecrack.
They ran in silence through the downpour. The wet sand proved a little more treacherous than Cara had expected so she concentrated on fighting the elements instead of worrying about the mistakes of the past or the nebulous future.
It was a downright therapeutic experience.
After two miles down the beach and two miles back, they slowed near the bridal bower where they’d promised to love, honor and cherish in the fake wedding.
“What’s on your agenda for today?” Cara asked, suddenly reluctant to end what had been a nice way to start the day. Rain notwithstanding.
And to be honest, she couldn’t get last night’s conversation out of her mind. If he wasn’t interested only in sex, what was he interested in?
“I’m personally inspecting each hotel room. If yours is any indication, they’re not ready for public consumption, and the majority of the guests are due tomorrow for the start of the expo.”
“That’s a big task, isn’t it?” There had to be over five hundred rooms on the resort grounds, and her building still didn’t have a working elevator.
He smiled slightly. “All my tasks are huge. Staving off Tropical Storm Mark being the insurmountable one.”
She’d been trying to convince herself the rain was normal for this time of year and nothing to worry about, but something about his tone struck her. “We’re going to get hit, aren’t we?”
Keith swiped rain off his face in a deliberate gesture. “I think you should revise that to present tense instead of future.”
The sound of dismay rose up in Cara’s throat before she could stop it. “What? Can we weather the storm here on the island? I mean, is it safe?”
Lord above, they were on an island during a tropical storm. Every hurricane documentary she’d ever watched on the Weather Channel flashed through her mind in full color, including what 120-mile-an-hour winds could do to a building, not to mention the flooding.
Why hadn’t they evacuated the island when there was still a chance of getting out?
“Safer than the rickety huts the island residents live in. The brunt of the storm is still a hundred miles away and may still miss us in the end. We should be fine here on the west side of the island. Maybe we’ll lose power for a few hours.” He shrugged. “The show must go on.”
He seemed nonchalant about it, so Cara tried to relax. After all, he was the one with the NOAA app. There must not be imminent danger, right? She chewed on a fingernail and immediately yanked it out of her mouth. Destroying her manicure would not cause the storm to veer away. She’d have to find another way to de-stress.
“Let me help you inspect the rooms,” she volunteered impulsively.
There was no way Cara could sit around and nervously wait to be battered by a tropical storm. Meredith could stay in the hotel room and do alterations all day if the weather was only going to get worse.
He eyeballed her. “Don’t you have stuff to do?”
“Yeah, but I’m the boss.” She liked the sound of that. It was the first time she’d ever thought of herself as such. But when you signed all the checks, what other title could you give yourself? “That means I can order my lackeys to do the work while I...go do other work.”
“I’ll take all the help I can get, then. Meet me in the lobby in forty-five minutes?”
“Sure.” Plenty of time. It wasn’t as if she planned to get all dressed up to tramp around in the rain. She might not even take a shower.