Cara would be soaking wet too by the time she got to his room—if he could entice her out of her snit.
That put the cap on it. She’d be wet, sexy and all the things he’d been fantasizing about since last night.
Once he got off the elevator and into his room, he texted her again.
Weary all of a sudden, he slumped on the love seat to wait for Cara, too tired to pretend he wanted only the carnal pleasures to be had in her arms, when in truth, he’d be happy if she’d just be with him awhile. As a business owner, surely she’d understand his drive to be self-made—no family gravy train required—and would also be sympathetic to his failures. She didn’t look to him for strategy, results, dollar signs, fill in the blank.
He needed her tonight—for more than sex.
How strange was that?
By ten forty-five that knock on the door hadn’t come. She wasn’t going to show, leaving him to decide whether he had the energy left to hunt her down.
* * *
Cara spun on her toe to pace in the other direction, phone clutched in her hand so tightly, the screen might be permanently damaged. The room was unfortunately too small to unload the high level of anxiety and frustration coursing through her blood.
“That carpet is going to start crying before too long,” Meredith commented without looking up from her tablet, where she was watching Bridget Jones for the four hundredth time. “Why are you still here? Keith texted you like twenty minutes ago.”
“I can’t do it.”
She couldn’t physically move toward the door. Couldn’t text him back. Couldn’t make a decision to save her life. This was it, the line in the sand, and she had no idea what would happen if she stepped over it.
This bout of indecision had started the moment she left Keith earlier and then had grown to something monstrous as the day dragged on. Part of her had hoped Keith would be too busy to meet up so she could avoid the line as long as possible. Regardless, Meredith had bossed Cara into a slinky thong and matching bra, then forcibly shoved her arms into a low-cut sundress.
It was fine. Keith might not even call.
Then her phone had beeped and flipped her into panic mode instantly.
“Can’t do what? Let a hot man make you feel amazing?” Meredith rolled her eyes. “You’re certifiable.”
She was. “I am not.”
Anyone who would open themselves up to being crushed again, who’d decided she wanted to see what love felt like in a relationship where that wasn’t on offer, could easily be labeled crazy. Anyone who would pass up the opportunity to be with a man who’d made it clear he wanted her, trusted her and of all things cared about her was crazy times two.
The problem was she didn’t know which one this summons would lead to. And she couldn’t say the same about her feelings toward Keith, not 100 percent. After all, she’d thought she loved him before, only to find out nothing was as she’d told herself. And she certainly didn’t trust him. Which left two consenting adults having an island fling with no pressures and no promises.
Or did it?
Cara moaned and sank to the floor. “He told me he cares about me in the same breath as saying neither of us has the luxury of a relationship right now. What does that mean? Maybe he’d be open to it later? Or was it just to get me into bed?”
“Asking the wrong person.”
“Well, I can’t ask Keith. He’s the one who got me all confused in the first place.”
She would have sworn she had it all figured out before coming to Grace Bay. Cara Chandler-Harris Designs was a business she’d created to get over Keith. And as a result, she’d found something she loved. Something she was good at. Something that fulfilled her aching soul.
But she’d never expected it to take the place of a relationship. She’d never expected Keith to come back in her life and show her she didn’t know diddly-squat about what was supposed to happen after the “I-dos.”
She’d never expected to want to learn with Keith by her side.
Her sister snorted. “What in the world is there to be confused about?”
“What’s going to happen next?” Keith wasn’t marriage material. But then what if she wasn’t either? “What if I sleep with him and we end up with completely different ideas about where our relationship is—”
“Oh, honey, you’re going about this all wrong.” Meredith ditched her tablet and put a hand to her chin as if about to impart sage advice. “Stop being such a girl. You are woman, hear you roar. Get that man naked and horizontal and use him all up. Then after he’s rested, do it again. Do your gender proud and take what you want.”
Cara’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Is that the secret?”
“There’s no secret. You’re thinking about this too much. Don’t let the past ruin what you can have now. And really don’t let the future mess up the present. That hasn’t even happened yet.”
“Because you’re such a relationship expert?” That wasn’t fair and it had more to do with how closemouthed her sister always was about her own love life, or lack thereof. Meredith’s interaction with men started and ended in the bedroom, but that didn’t give Cara an excuse to be mean.
She started to apologize but her sister cut her off.
“No.” A shadow passed over Meredith’s face. “Because I’m an expert in messing them up. That’s how I know what not to do.”
According to Meredith, obsessing about the plan fell squarely in the category of What Not to Do. And maybe her sister was right. Cara bit her lip.
Cara’s design business filled her with purpose and gave her a level of satisfaction she’d never known. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to take that and run...straight to Keith. This was Grace Bay, not Houston, and Cara could do whatever she wanted. Be whomever she wanted. If Cara Chandler-Harris could start her own business, she could have an island fling with her ex, too.
No plan needed.
Then, when it was over, she could walk away. The possibility of making that choice was empowering. What did she have to lose, really?
Meredith jerked her head at the door. “Get going and pray he’s not already passed out from boredom.”
Cara took a deep breath. She could do this. Or at least she could knock on Keith’s door. One step at a time.
* * *
Tap, tap, tap.
Keith woke instantly from his uncomfortable catnap on the love seat, heart tripping. The light knock that had roused him could be only one person—Cara.
He yanked open the door and eyed the fully dressed woman on the other side. “You’re late. That means you lose an article of clothing for every minute.”
His already-surging blood pumped faster as he surveyed her. She was indeed wet. But not wet enough.
“I seem to recall you said you’d come looking for me,” she said primly and stood her umbrella against the outside wall. “Which you did not.”
“Now who’s being logical?” He held out his hand and when she took it, he pulled her inside the room, where he’d lowered the lights. Soft jazz music, which he’d switched on earlier before he fell asleep, played in the background. If she’d warned him of her imminent arrival, he could have done a little more to set the mood.
Of course, it would help if she’d tell him what sort of mood to set. A woman’s extreme tardiness usually didn’t bode well when a drink invitation clearly came with benefits.
“Nice,” she commented as she followed him into the room. “Being the boss has its privileges.”
Small talk didn’t scream “I’m into you” either.
She sank gracefully into a leather chair near the lounge table, pointedly ignoring the love seat, where they could have both easily fit. And could have indulged in a little foreplay.
Which might have been the point. But if she wasn’t here to pick up where they’d left off earlier this morning, why was she here?
“I didn’t think you were coming.”
Now, why had he opened that can of worms? Obviously, if she’d dropped him butt-first on a Tilt-a-Whirl she couldn’t have thrown him more off balance than she had with her late arrival.
Cara cleared her throat. “I didn’t think I was coming either. But I’m here now.”
Despite the ambiguity, he could roll with that. Something loosened in his chest. She was here and that was enough. If it led to more, great. If not, that was okay, too.
For the first time in their relationship, he genuinely wanted to spend time with her, talk to her, hear her opinions and—
God, what was wrong with him?
He poured her a glass of wine from the same label she’d enjoyed last night and handed it to her, then took the other chair, suddenly feeling oddly as if they were on a first date.
And maybe they kind of were. At least it was a first date between Keith and this new woman Cara had become. A first date after wiping the slate clean of all their disastrous history, including Keith’s mistakes. Perhaps she’d come to that conclusion as well—hence the distance.
She’d earned the right to be romanced, no matter how many times they’d seen each other naked in the past.
“I’m curious about something.” He sipped wine to set the conversational mood, which would serve to put her at ease. “What do you hope to get from this expo? Professionally?”