“You get what you paid for,” I whispered against his lips.
He took a shower, alone this time while I laid in bed listening to the ocean’s sounds.
“I’m making you breakfast,” he said, with just a towel wrapped around his hips.
“Sounds good to me.”
I threw on my bathrobe, and joined him in the kitchen, where he was making pancakes. I climbed onto a chair at the counter and watched him.
“We’re out of whipped cream, but there’s plenty of maple syrup,” he said. “And we have some raspberries left over from yesterday.”
“I love pancakes,” I replied.
Now that I’d come down from my high, I started thinking. The past day had been so surreal, I couldn’t believe any of this had really been happening. Things were moving fast. Too fast. It was one of the reasons Owen attracted me so much – the way he got what he wanted, no matter how crazy or ridiculous it sounded. And it was exactly the thing that scared me. Was he honest with me?
Did he really like me, or was I just another peak for him to climb? Another conquest to chat about with his buddies? I had met men like that, who had been with me for the bragging rights.
Owen was totally one of those guys and if I wasn’t careful, I’d just be another notch on his bedpost. But this was business, wasn’t it?
The connection between us felt real.
Too real.
Besides, I had to remind myself that I was here for Declan. I was on a mission! Or had been, before the plane.
The island.
All the sex.
I was falling for Owen, and that made me feel terrible. What right did I have to have all this, when my brother was back home, sick and alone? I didn’t deserve this!
“Are you okay?” Owen asked. “I thought you said you loved pancakes, but I can make something else.”
“No, of course not. You’re wonderful. Too good, in fact.” I looked aside, trying my best not to break down, not to show him my weakness.
He sat the pan aside and walked around the counter and stood next to me, a little too close. I could feel the warmth of his body. Just one tug at that towel and he’d be naked.
I could have him right here in the kitchen if I wanted.
He put a hand on my face and made me look at him. My eyes were wet.
I was being ridiculous.
“What is it?” he asked, concerned.
I couldn’t keep it together any longer. I hugged him and hid my face in his chest, tears streaming down my face. It felt good to finally let go, to finally relax. Crying helped. It’d been so long since I had broken down like that.
I had to be strong.
For Declan.
And before him, for Mom.
“It’ll be fine,” he said, putting my arms around me and stroking my hair. “Don’t worry, Sydney, I’ve got you.”
I cried for a few minutes, until my throat was dry and tears would no longer come. I was embarrassed at first, but he was so good, so caring, that I forgot all about it and just let myself be vulnerable.
When I finally caught my breath and wiped my eyes, I said, “Thank you. I needed that, apparently more than I realized.”