by Taylor Hart
The woman—Isabel—ignored him. She turned fully to look at Cam. “My sister thinks this cruise is a good idea because she thinks it will help me meet men. But I don’t want to meet men.” She winked. “And the funny thing is, when you don’t want to meet men, some of them are attracted to you that are way overeager.”
Cam glanced at the mustache guy again, then wondered if she was talking about the mustache guy. “Why are you on this cruise?”
“I … just want to heal.” She cocked an eyebrow. “My therapist thought it was a good idea. You know how it goes.”
“Isabel!” the Hawaii shirt guy called out again. “Come look at this.”
She rolled her eyes. “Dang, some people can’t take a hint.”
Cameron wasn’t used to be around people who talked about what their therapists wanted for them. He didn’t speak.
“So, fair is fair. Why are you on this trip?” she asked him.
He shrugged. “My sister got me out of mandated therapy sessions to be here.”
Her eyebrows shot up, and she laughed. “Really? So you really are twelve. She takes your phone, and she manages your therapy.” She said it in a flirty way, not rudely, and they smiled at each other.
“Isabel!” The Hawaiian shirt guy pointed to something in the water. “You gotta see this.”
Their eyes held for another second before she said, “Excuse me,” and went on her way.
Cameron watched the Hawaiian guy put his arm around her. She looked back at him for a second before she was engulfed in the crowd of people.
He felt a tinge of … what? Attraction? No. He dismissed the thought. He stayed there until the guide pulled them all back together. She stayed with the singles’ group. For the second time in two days, he wondered about someone else’s sad story.
Chapter 4
Isabel Kind sat in the dining room, making a half-hearted attempt to join in on the talking, the people, and the fun. 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, particularly 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’d knocked her into the pool last night, she wasn’t happy to be dragged away from the guy. There was something about the bearded man that she connected with.
“So are we doing this or not?” Mustache guy’s name was Dave, as she’d found out earlier. Dave was a loud talker who asked her questions but never listened; he just wanted to explain why he’d been divorced three times. She’d mostly allowed him to talk all day, nodding and 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.
Dave put his hand out and smiled. “It’s just a dance, and you look so pretty.”
At least he was sincere. 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, not counting the three setups her sister had tried to force on her. Still, even with her limited experience, she’d learned that if you were over thirty and single, you usually had a story.
“Okay,” she said. 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 wasn’t 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 say 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 thing about guys like this was that she didn’t have to think too much about what to say.
“Are you having fun?”
“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. “They’re so romantic, don’t you think?” His eyes swept up and down her.
“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 she 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 was suddenly bored with this man and his traveling 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 tight smile. “No, thank you.” 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 are going to see the stingrays.”
The stingrays were 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. “There are so many great excursions, aren’t there?” As much as she wanted the song to end, she needed to prove to her sister and mom she could do this. Be normal.
“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.” His hand rubbed from her 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, no longer dancing, just staring at his oaf of a hand that held hers.
He stopped dancing too. “Hey, Dave doesn’t treat the ladies badly.”
“Are you talking about yourself in third person?”
His brow furrowed. “Man, are you always this much of a buzzkill?”
Somehow, being rude to a guy made her feel more alive than she’d felt 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.”
Chapter 5
Cameron sat in the dining room. He hadn’t wanted to come to the dining room tonight, but he’d promised his sist
er that he’d eat dinner with them every night. The boys were gone, running off with other kids from the ship, and he had been watching his sister and Craig on the dance floor, trying not to think too much about Kat.
His thousand-mile stare was broken when a familiar image came into his line of sight. Isabel was out on the dance floor with the Hawaiian shirt guy from earlier. He was surprised when the guy’s hands roamed a bit much. Apparently they were closer than he’d thought.
Suddenly, they stopped dancing close to where Cam was sitting. She told the guy to back off. As the guy processed it, Cam could see that he was one of those jerks who might have to be taught a lesson. Any man who even had to think about respecting a demand like that didn’t deserve a dance.
Cam stood. He’d never backed down from teaching some guy manners. At this point in his life, it usually only took a nudge in the right direction. “Excuse me.” Both of them jolted at the sound of his voice. “Could I have a turn with the lady?”
The guy tugged his hand back, sizing Cam up. “Wait. Are you …?”
“I am. And I believe you’re the guy who’s done dancing with the lady.”
The guy frowned.
Cam turned his full attention to the redhead. “May I?”
She considered his offer.
“I’ve seen the media on you,” the other guy said. “I don’t think you should be butting in with my dance partner. What are you gonna do if I say no? Punch me? You really want another lawsuit right now?”
With a slow, steady breath, Cam commanded himself not to react.
Suddenly, the woman took Cam’s hand and began pulling him away. “See you later, Dave.”
Cam let her lead them into a two-step. The woman cocked an eyebrow but kept dancing with him. It only took a minute for him to realize she was pretty good. He spun her out, then pulled her back, but just then, the music changed to a fast country song.
“You don’t even know my name,” the woman said, still dancing.
He grinned at her, feeling his chest lighten. He’d heard the Hawaiian shirt guy call it out enough times that he did know it, but he wanted her to introduce herself. “No, I don’t, but you’re a good dancer. Way better than that guy.”
With a slight smile, she asked, “There’s media on you?”
Cam shrugged, focusing on the steps.
“Wait.” She missed a step, but picked it right back up again. “This is just my luck. You’re Cameron Cruz, that famous guy. The owner of the Storm, aren’t you?”
His eyes met hers. “Yes.”
“Weird you’re here. On this cruise.”
“It’s a long story.”
“I see your face plastered on a billboard next to I-70, where I used to take the exit into Fort Collins to work.”
This took him by surprise. “You work in Fort Collins?”
“Used to.”
“Huh.”
“But I live there too, clear across town. The interstate is the fastest way to get to my house.”
Right, he remembered her saying she had just gotten her PA. He took both of her hands and did some fancy footwork that she matched. The song sped up, and he took her into a table top and then a pretzel.
She laughed as she spun, and he laughed at the surprise on her face. It was all just momentum as the music took over, and he fell back on his old high school country dance moves.
The woman was good, really good. She had no trouble keeping up.
When the song changed, he hesitated, still dancing with her. “Want to try a slow one?”
For the first time since he’d met her, he saw a real smile that made him catch his breath. It made this beautiful woman radiant. “I guess we already are.”
He grinned back, and the moment felt magical, like time had suspended and he’d forgotten himself. It was a weird feeling, and he felt a sting of guilt. The last person he’d danced with was Kat.
Both of them were quiet, just lost in the music. How could this moment feel so natural and unnatural at the same time?
She closed her eyes for a second. “Man, I love this song.”
His mind refocused, and he wanted to tell her he knew Texas Waters personally, but he didn’t want to be a name-dropper. “I do too.”
She sang along, and he hummed, finding that this was exactly the distraction he’d needed. “So, let’s see,” she said, moving closer to him. “Do you always throw women in pools, hit their cameras into the water, and rescue them from creepy guys? Is that your routine?”
He knew she was teasing him, and it sounded like she was awkwardly trying to flirt, like maybe she wasn’t comfortable with it either. “That’s exactly my thing. Kinda how you like to give free medical help to ungrateful people, stand in normal paths of travel, and attract creepy guys on the dance floor.”
She laughed.
After they went through all kinds of different moves, the song was over, and he found himself stopping and just smiling.
She hesitated. “Thanks for asking me to dance, because—”
“The guy would have gotten some knee action,” he filled in for her.
Her real smile lit up again. “You heard that?”
He nodded.
She waved and turned. “Thanks, again. I have to go.”
There was something about the way she waved like that. Like something a kid would do or an awkward teenager. It wasn’t the way sophisticated people acted at rich, fancy parties, and he suddenly thought about how tired he was of that. “Hey—wait up.” He jogged to her.
She stopped walking. “Yeah?”
Feeling a bit embarrassed, he said, “I don’t even know your name.” Technically, he did thanks to Hawaiian shirt guy yelling it at the falls, but he wanted her to tell him.
Frowning a bit, she seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “Honestly, I don’t know if you need to know it, because I’m not looking for more than friendship.”
He snorted. “Neither am I.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Then we’re good.”
“Isabel!” someone called out.
They both turned to a big table of people laughing. He assumed they were the singles’ group his sister had mentioned.
The guy from earlier was heading her way. “Come with us.”
She turned to face Cam. “Would you want to dance again?”
His heart raced. He did want to dance with her again, and he sure as heck didn’t want to see the idiot ask her again. “I’ll trade you—a dance for your name.”
A grin flashed across her face. “Isabel Kind.”
Chapter 6
Isabel let herself fall into the music with him again, hating that she liked dancing with this guy so much. It was hard not to; he was so good. She could sense something big had happened in his life. She was so certain about it that she didn’t want to ask. It felt too heavy.
She knew how that sounded, but her therapist, June, would know what that meant. It meant that she was intuitive—she could feel things about people. She’d spent the last couple of years inside her own pain. It was also the reason she hadn’t been able to be a doula after the accident.
It’d broken her. For so long, she’d just lain in bed. She’d gotten to the point where she could go through the motions but felt like a ghost. Finally, she’d gone back to school. It infuriated her that the reason she could be so lazy was because of the life insurance money. It was the reason she was here.
Right now, she couldn’t believe she was avoiding the singles’ group by dancing with this handsome man. Not that she’d really noticed.
Cameron seemed focused on the dancing, twirling her into different moves.
Her mind wondered more about this man. What had brought him to this point?
No. She didn’t need that. Focus. This was just a dance. Her sister had told her to live in the moment, enjoy it.
They finished the song, and another came on. Cameron paused and looked away, his hand going to the wedding ring on his finger.
Nervousness pulsed t
hrough her. She’d been turned so far inward she hadn’t even noticed a wedding ring! This man must be hurting pretty badly. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes turned down. “Nothing.”
“What?” Her heart raced, and she knew there was something she’d missed.
He hesitated before telling her the story. “I fell in love with my wife five years ago in Jackson, Wyoming. When I did, I wrote this song for her.”
“This song? The one playing? This is you singing it?”
He nodded, his eyes looking more haunted. “Montana Crew is a friend of mine.”
She exhaled. “O-kay.” But it was the other thing that had really gotten her attention. “Your wife.” She remembered now. She had seen it “in the media,” as stupid Dave had said.
Cameron sucked in a long breath.
That same heaviness filled her, and she almost took off, but she didn’t want to leave this man who had so kindly helped her to her room last night.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Now you really know who I am, don’t you?”
She’d heard snippets heard here and there about the owner of the Storm and the hit-and-run. “I’m not really connected to the mainstream world, but I know.” You’d have to be living under a rock in Colorado not to know about the tragedy with his wife.
He let out a long breath. “Guess it’s time to be done.”
“Why?” And why was she asking him why? She didn’t need other people’s drama.
“I’m not …” He trailed off, taking in another huge breath.
She understood breathing. “Yes, breathe, that’s it. Breathing is so good for you. It’s the first thing I always tell pregnant women, because when they get scared, they forget to breathe, and that’s not good for them or the babies.”
Cameron studied her. “You’re treating me like a pregnant woman?”
“Hey, you need help, I’m helping.” She continued taking long breaths with him.
“But you don’t help pregnant women anymore?”
“Right.”
