She locked up her office and headed outside, the bay breeze quite cool against her skin. She decided to reward herself for working on the weekend by buying a ham and bacon sandwich from a shop just down the sidewalk. She found a bench and unwrapped her food, the sight before her so beautiful and serene, she could hardly believe it.

  What a great new life, she thought to herself.

  People walked in front of her as they moved down the sidewalk, and she’d just finished her food when someone very familiar strolled past her.

  He held hands with a curvy brunette, and it could’ve been Nicole and Wes.

  But Charlotte knew it wasn’t Nicole and Wes.

  It was Hunter and his new wife.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dawson looked out over the water, his tour today only half-full. He drew in a deep breath and appreciated the clear blue sky, the darker blue slash of water at the bottom of his window. A puff of white came up, and he said, “We have whales out the left side, ten o’clock.”

  He slowed to a hover so the family of three inside could watch. “Those are pilot whales,” he said, their massive bodies a slightly darker color than the water, which made them easy to spot. “I can see five, maybe six.”

  Increased splashing commenced out the front windshield, and he turned the helicopter slightly. “Those are spotted dolphins,” he said. “Looks like a big pod. Maybe fifty or one hundred. They’ve found a school of herring, one of their favorite foods.”

  He often saw whales, Hawaiian monk seals, and dolphins on his tours. He loved them, but he’d recited the same facts so many times he sounded like a flight attendant telling passengers how to put on their oxygen masks in the event of an emergency.

  “The whales probably heard them splashing around and came to feast.” At that moment, a big whale bolted straight up out of the water, and the family went wild. Even Dawson said, “Oh, wow! That’s called a lunge feed.” He watched the water settle again. “The pod scared the herring into one tight pod. Then that whale dove down deep and came shooting up, out of the water, his mouth open to catch as many fish as possible.”

  A smile touched his mouth and stayed. Even he didn’t get to see a lunge feed very often. They stayed a while longer, watching the whales skim the surface and occasionally show their flukes as they dove.

  He said, “Are we ready to move on?”

  “Yes,” the dad said, and they settled back into their seats to continue. Their daughter, a girl probably close to thirteen or fourteen, couldn’t stop talking about the whales and dolphins. Her animation and joy was infectious, and Dawson finished his tour with real happiness coursing through him.

  He landed on the pad with barely a bump, and helped everyone out of the helicopter. He got a great tip and turned toward the building with his stomach roaring at him to eat something. Stephen hurried toward him, anxiety all over his face.

  “What’s wrong?” Dawson asked, forgetting about food and striding forward.

  “A woman named Charlotte called.” Stephen looked at him with wide eyes and turned to walk with Dawson inside. “She said she tried your cell, but I told her you were out on a flight. She sounded quite upset, like she was crying.”

  Dawson’s heart raced, and he fumbled with the zipper on the side of his thigh, where he kept his phone in a safe pocket.

  Sure enough, Charlotte had called four times, all within ten minutes of each other. “How long ago did she call?” he asked, trying to figure out if he could leave right now, in the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday, and where she would be if he did.

  “About a half an hour.” Stephen opened the door and Dawson walked in. “I told her when you’d be back.”

  “Thank you, Stephen.” Dawson gave him the best smile he could muster and tapped the button to call Charlotte back.

  “Hey,” he said when she answered, her voice tinny and miles away. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

  Only sniffling came through the line, which meant she wasn’t somewhere public. Desperation dove through him with the speed and power of that pilot whale lunging out of the ocean to eat. “Charlotte, baby. Tell me what’s going on. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He was surprised by the tenderness in his own voice, but he wasn’t embarrassed.

  With the swiftness of a lightning bolt, he realized he was in love with her. Shaken, and with his heart now catapulting around inside his chest, he paced in front of the windows overlooking the bay as he waited for her to answer.

  “Hunter’s here,” she said, her voice catching. “On the island. My island.”

  He froze. “You talked to him?”

  “No, he didn’t see me.” She wasn’t giving him the whole picture, and he wasn’t sure why she was so upset if she hadn’t interacted with her ex-husband at all.

  “Okay, where are you?”

  “In my car.”

  Dawson’s frustration grew at the same rate his concern had. He wasn’t sure why she was so upset if nothing had really happened, if there’d been no words said, and if she was safe. “Okay—” he started, but she interrupted with, “I don’t think I can keep seeing you.”

  That punched the air right out of his lungs. He grappled with how to breathe, wanting to speak at the same time and finding himself unable.

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a rush. “I thought I was okay, and that maybe I’d be able to figure things out, but seeing Hunter and his girlfriend—wife—whatever—I just—I’m not ready. I’m a mess, and I’m just not ready.”

  Not ready for what? Dawson wanted to ask, but he couldn’t get the words out.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again and hung up.

  Dawson’s hand fell from holding the phone at his ear, and he stared out the window unseeing. Had she really just broken up with him over the phone? Because she’d seen her ex-husband?

  “Everything okay?” Stephen asked, and Dawson swung his head toward his boss in slow motion.

  He shook his head, and Stephen said, “I can move your next tour to Javier. He only has three and you have six. It’ll be a tight fit, but we can do it, if you need to go.”

  But Dawson didn’t have anywhere to go. No one to see. Numbness spread through him, and he shook his head again. “I don’t have to go.” He needed someplace quiet to think for a minute. He turned away from the windows and Stephen. “Oh, and there’s a pod of pilot whales and dolphins out there. We saw a lunge feed. I’ll send you the coordinates.”

  He walked away, because he didn’t know what else to do. In the break room, he found boxes of pizza, but he went right past them, his appetite completely gone. What was he going to do without Charlotte in his life?

  Before her, he hadn’t even realized how empty his days were. How boring it was to get up and run in the morning, fly a helicopter around the island all day, and go home to a leaking kitchen sink in a house that wasn’t even his.

  He stepped into a darker, quieter place and lay down on one of the cots. No one would bother him here, and he could spent the twenty minutes before his next tour alone.

  Always alone.

  Dawson finished his tours for the day, and the next one. He only spoke to Stephen, JJ, and the tourists, going home to his trailer on the beach to heat up something in the microwave. Wes had texted and then called to find out about Christmas and what Dawson’s plans were.

  He hadn’t answered, but he was seriously considering leaving Getaway Bay, at least for a little while. Maybe a week while he went to San Diego to visit his family. He’d already told his brother he wasn’t coming, but what would they do? Slam the door in his face?

  He didn’t put such an action past his father, but his mom would probably be glad to see him. Rich too. Bronson would probably tuck his tail and hide until he was sure Dawson wasn’t going to clock him in the mouth, and then that would be okay too.

  Problem was, Dawson wanted to hit everything, and going home in such an emotional state wouldn’t be good for anyone.

  He just wanted to talk to Charlotte. He’d sent
her a dozen texts that had all gone unanswered. He’d called twice and gotten her voicemail. It was like she’d completely disappeared, the way he wanted to.

  Feeling brave, he dialed the number to Your Tidal Forever and got a chirpy woman who answered with, “How can I help you find your tidal forever?”

  “Can you transfer me to Charlotte Madsen, please?” He pressed his eyes closed, hoping she wouldn’t ask who he was or why he was calling.

  “I’m sorry, but Charlotte’s out for the week.”

  “Out?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. She’s taken vacation. Which wedding is this referring to? I’ll make sure she knows to make it a priority when she returns.”

  Dawson hung up. “She’s taken vacation.” He swiped his keys from the counter and headed outside. The drive up to her house usually took ten minutes from his spot on the beach, but today he got there in five.

  Her car wasn’t there, but he parked and walked to the front door anyway. He knocked and called her name, but of course she didn’t come. She also didn’t lock her house, so he went inside, feeling very much like a stalker or an intruder. He couldn’t decide which was worse.

  The place felt abandoned, like she’d packed in a hurry and rushed out. Though everything sat in its place and was clean, it didn’t hold her spirit anymore.

  He turned and left, angry and frustrated and disappointed at the same time. He needed to just see her, talk to her face-to-face. She couldn’t just break up with him over the phone and be done. She just couldn’t.

  His next thought was to track down Hunter and get him off the island as fast as possible. But he didn’t even know the man’s last name, as Charlotte had gone back to using her maiden name after the divorce. Just another thing she hadn’t told him.

  Climbing behind the wheel of his SUV, Dawson had to acknowledge that Charlotte really wasn’t ready to be in a serious relationship. She hadn’t even told him some of the most basic things—like what her married name had been.

  And yet, he’d gone and fallen in love with her. A sigh leaked from his body, and he knew he didn’t want to be on the island if she wasn’t.

  He swiped and tapped on his phone, finally getting to the right place. “Stephen,” he said. “Sorry it’s so last-minute, but how hard would it be for me to have a few days off around Christmas? I want to go see my family in San Diego.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Charlotte woke to the chirping of birds and the rushing sound of water. She wasn’t in her house on Cinder Road, that was for sure. No, this place was much more tropical and remote. Exactly what she wanted to try to get herself put back together.

  After her phone call with Dawson where she’d blurted out a break up, she’d packed a bag as quickly as she could and got on the first flight leaving Getaway Bay. It happened to be going to Oahu, and she’d landed and found a tropical getaway where she could have her own bungalow in the forests near the Manoa waterfalls.

  It was beautiful here, and Charlotte had been able to find a way to breathe. But she felt unsettled, and nothing about the rainfall showerhead was going to change that.

  “That’s because you’ve run away again,” she said into the hot spray of the shower. And she had.

  “It’s only for a week,” she tried to rationalize. After all, Claudia’s wedding was next week, and Charlotte couldn’t just up and leave Getaway Bay completely. She didn’t even want to do that. The possibility of running into Dawson was slim. If he hadn’t been squatting in her house, she never would’ve met him in the first place.

  Around and around her mind went. Maybe it was fate he’d been under her kitchen sink at the exact moment she’d arrived at the house. Maybe she should answer his texts and calls. Maybe she shouldn’t let Hunter dictate what she did in her life—not anymore. Never again.

  She washed her hair twice, because she wasn’t entirely sure she’d done it the first time. By the time she had a cup of coffee and took a seat on the deck that overlooked the jungle, she felt a bit more settled. Not enough to call Dawson, but enough to think through their relationship.

  “I do want a relationship with him.”

  That was the bottom line, and though Charlotte knew she’d spoken true—she wasn’t ready—she wanted to get ready.

  She picked up her phone and opened her messaging app. She’d been deleting texts she didn’t want to deal with—running from them.

  “Time to stop running,” she told herself and the chattering birds around her. She closed the app and opened her phonebook. She’d start easy. Call her mother and tell her where she was and that she’d started to fall for a gorgeous helicopter pilot who was as sweet as he was strong.

  Tears pricked her eyes at the truthfulness in that thought too. She had started to fall for Dawson, and she didn’t want to lose him because Hunter had stirred up all her old emotions and insecurities, her frustrations, pains, and beliefs that all love was false. Fake. Pretend, the way theirs had been.

  “Charlotte?” Her mom sounded shocked.

  “Hey, Mom.” Her voice broke, and while Charlotte was really tired of crying, she also allowed herself the opportunity to express her emotions. After all, keeping everything bottled up had never worked particularly well for her.

  “Chris!” her mom shouted. “Chris, it’s Charlotte!” The joy and wonder in her mom’s voice awakened Charlotte to the pain and worry she’d caused them. “Honey, are you all right? Where are you?”

  She took a deep breath, ready to take this first step toward healing herself, healing those she’d hurt albeit unintentionally. “I’m on Oahu right now,” she said. “But I found this great house in Getaway Bay, and I’ve been fixing it up.”

  “Charlotte?” Her dad came on the line.

  “I’m looking up Getaway Bay,” her mom said, her voice getting a little more distant. “We’ll come visit.”

  Charlotte didn’t immediately recoil from the idea, and she smiled as tears ran down her face. “Hey, Dad. How’s the golf in Miami?” Her parents had retired there after her dad’s long career in business administration.

  “It’s so good to hear your voice, sweetheart,” he said, which only made Charlotte cry harder.

  “Oh, Getaway Bay looks nice, honey,” her mom said, and Charlotte got a little whiplashed by having both of them on the phone. “Big island of Hawaii. Lots to do there. What are you doing there?”

  “I’m working for a wedding planning company,” she said. “I do their custom weddings.”

  “When’s a good time to come? Maybe for Christmas.”

  “The airfare will be outrageous,” her father said.

  “We’ll use our miles,” her mom countered. “I know it’s only a couple of weeks away, but we’re not doing anything here.”

  “No?” Charlotte asked, basking in their back-and-forth conversation. Her parents loved each other with a real love, a strong commitment. Maybe it was possible. “Wilma’s not coming? Harold?”

  “Harold’s in-laws gave them a cruise. Wilma was going to come, but if we tell her now, she can do something else.”

  Charlotte couldn’t imagine that would fly very well for Wilma. She’d only spoken to her the one time since coming to Getaway Bay, and it had been a disaster. “I don’t want to cause problems,” Charlotte said. “But I’d love to see you guys. I can’t come to Miami—I have weddings and work to do. You could come anytime, really. Doesn’t have to be for Christmas.”

  “We haven’t heard from you for five months,” her dad said with a rough edge in his voice. “Your mother is looking at airfare right now.”

  “I have a wedding on the twentieth,” she said. “A big one. After that would be best.”

  “After the twentieth, Nina…the twentieth!” He shouted the last word, and Charlotte grinned into the foliage.

  “I love you, Dad,” she whispered, realizing that she still knew and believed in familial love.

  “We love you, too, Charlotte. Tell us everything you’ve been doing.”

  The next mo
rning, Charlotte faced her to-do list: Call Wilma. It was literally the only thing she’d put down, and she could not make herself do it. By now, her sister would’ve been notified that their parents were cancelling Christmas in Miami and going to see Charlotte. She’d asked them not to tell Wilma where she was, but that she’d call her herself to do that.

  And yet, she couldn’t dial the number. She didn’t even have to dial it. All she had to do was press a button.

  Instead, she pulled up Sammy’s name and number and called her. She didn’t understand why that call was easier than her own sister, but it was.

  “Charlotte Ence,” Sammy said with so much glee in her voice that Charlotte could picture the smile on her friend’s face. “How are you?”

  Charlotte hadn’t been using her married name, but she didn’t correct her friend. “Is this a good time? You have a few minutes?”

  “Of course, of course.” Sammy didn’t do much during the day, but surely she’d be planning a huge holiday shindig for all the posh residents of Carter’s Cove. She did every year, with huge prize packages she and her husband gave away.

  “I just…wanted to talk for a minute,” she said. She wasn’t exactly sure what she needed to say to Sammy, so she just took a leap of faith and opened her mouth. “You guys really hurt me when you sided with Hunter. And when Vivian posted those pictures of all of you with him and his new girlfriend, that was devastating.”

  Her chest felt like someone had scrubbed it out with steel wool and then poured bleach in it.

  “Char—”

  “I mean, I’d already lost him, and then I had to lose everyone else too.” She wouldn’t cry—her eyes were completely dry. But she’d carried around this weight for too long. “So I left. Surely you can understand that. And you guys—all my friends. Rosie, Vivian, Tanya—contributed to that. I just wanted you to know that, whether you care or not.”