I grinned, and my stomach fluttered. "Yeah, it has a certain quality."

We'd dated for years long distance while it seemed we'd never get to spend significant time together. Then the breakup happened, but now it felt like our relationship was on a fast track to one conclusion. Part of me wanted to race ahead to it, but the idea terrified the other half.

Adults got married. Were we adults?

"To the resort, sir?" the man standing next to the golf cart asked us as we approached. "Everyone with Killdear Island receives a living wage, so no need to tip while you are on the island at any of our establishments."

Broadrick nodded and helped me into one of the backseats. "No vehicles are allowed on the island besides an ambulance."

Poor Rachel. If he talked me into moving here, how would I leave my Camero at home? I frowned at the thought. Then another one hit me, and I grinned, sparing a glance at Broadrick as he watched a line of palm trees race by us.

"What?" he asked when he finally noticed.

I shrugged. "Just thinking what it will look like with a bunch of you burly SEALs speeding around in tiny golf carts."

He opened his mouth, paused, and then laughed. "I wonder if Ridge has thought about that?"

Our driver zipped our golf cart around a curve, and I held on to the side to stop from falling into the narrow street. Broadrick placed his hand on my leg and used his other to brace himself.

"If you look to your left as we enter our downtown area, you'll see some of our most popular stores. There you'll also find three of our eight restaurants on the island."

What? I glanced at Broadrick and mouthed, "Eight restaurants."

He squeezed my leg as an answer. Too bad I had no idea what that meant. But really, how did the island support eight restaurants? No wonder they had to let in the poor people. Someone had to eat all the leftover shrimp.

We passed by small storefronts on both sides of us. Their matching blue and white striped awnings were on each of the buildings. The only thing signifying their unique business was elaborate markings on the front windows and doors.

"Hey, they have a yarn and bookstore," I said, pointing it out to Broadrick. Stitchin' Stories. That sounded like my kind of shopping.

He pointed to the other side of the road at the end. "And a bakery."

Oh, a bakery! My eyes grew wide as I took in the small bakery with its large glass window and matching awning.

We turned a corner, heading down a long driveway flanked by tall palm trees. The leaves fluttered in the breeze. It was so very unlike home.

"Welcome to the Killdeer Spa and Resort," our driver said.

We came to a stop outside a tall set of marble steps leading to the giant entrance doors.

"The resort also houses the live-on-island staff," Broadrick said. "The rest live in on the mainland and ride the ferry in every day."

"Seems like a boring way to start the day." I couldn't imagine having to ride that boat every morning. I'd have to nap on it. My stomach fell. Crap. "If we move here, would we live at the resort?"

Broadrick didn't expect to take the boat every day. Did he?

He shook his head. "No, I'm thinking of buying a place."

"On the mainland?" My stomach grew tighter. What would I do in Florida if he was all the way over here?

Broadrick grabbed my hand and led us up the marble steps. "No, I'd pick up something on the island."

I hesitated, stopping our assent until his pull jerked me forward. Places on the island started at two million and that didn't include your yearly resident dues.

"How much is Ridge going to pay you to move here?" I asked.

His only answer was a smile as we reached the main doors of the resort-two big, thick wooden pieces with palm trees and birds carved into them. The doors opened from the inside, but I gave one last glance to my left at the water.

Perfection.

It was the same ocean we had back home, but it just looked better down here.

"Welcome to Killdear Island," a gentleman in a freaking black-tie suit said as we walked into the resort.

Okay, fine. The place really was a paradise island. That didn't mean I wanted to live there forever.

But maybe it wouldn't kill me to enjoy the few days we had to visit. If they wanted to treat me like royalty, I wouldn't take away the pleasure.

I smiled at the man holding the door as he walked with us to the check-in desk, a massive marble counter with only one smiling woman sitting at it.

Broadrick approached the counter, where she immediately handed him a white room key. As they spoke directions, I let my attention wander until it hit on a restaurant to the side of the lobby. The outside doors were open, and people munched on food at tables on a patio space. In the elements.

Most tables had their large umbrellas open to block the sun. I loved eating in the open air. Mainly because it's something we never did in Maine. No one offered outside seating in Pelican Bay. I didn't know why. They just didn't. Not even in the summer.

"They're going to put our luggage in the room, but it will be about an hour before we can get into it ourselves. Do you want to go for a walk and explore?" Broadrick asked me once he turned away from the brunette at the counter.

I looped my arm through Broadrick's and smiled. A walk sounded like a great idea. "Let's do it."

A green golf cart with a bright pink blow-up flamingo attached to the canopy drove by the front door of the resort as we walked out. He honked his horn and waved to us with a smile as a Jimmy Buffett song played over his sound system.

"That's a man I need to meet," I said to Broadrick as the golf cart turned a corner and drove off toward the back of the island.

He shook his head. "Of course it is. He's the male version of Pearl."

We walked toward the downtown area we'd driven through on the way to the resort, our joined hands swinging slightly with our steps. The sun warmed my skin, and I sucked in a nose full of the ocean scent. I'd never admit it, but it smelled better down here, too. Not as fishy as the odor that sometimes wafted in from the ocean in Pelican Bay.

"Do you want to grab an early lunch?" Broadrick asked me as we passed the first store at the beginning of the row.

An art gallery had a sign promising a wide collection of local artists. Did that include people on the mainland, or were enough rich people dipping paint brushes in the large condo buildings to fill an art gallery? I almost wanted to check but already knew everything cost more than I had available.

I pointed to the bakery we'd passed on the way in. "Let's get a breakfast cupcake."

"I don't think that's how they work," Broadrick said with furrowed brows.

Clearly, he didn't pay attention to how we did things at our bakery. "Sure, it is. I'll teach you."

He'd love my lesson on muffin and cupcake ingredients.

Broadrick let out a loud laugh. "This I have to hear."

Our hands were still swinging as he held open the large glass door to the bakery for me. The place was empty other than the lone worker-they must have been at a lull in service-as we walked in with matching smiles. Yeah, this vacation wouldn't be so bad with Broadrick by my side.

"Hello!" I said to the woman behind the counter. She had her dark brown hair pulled back into a tight bun and wore a black apron tied tightly around her middle-a complete contrast to the bright pink with frilly lace aprons Anessa had in her bakery.

You couldn't judge someone on their apron color, though.

"What can I get you two?" she asked, slapping a black towel against her shoulder and reminding me of my grandma.

My smile grew as I approached her case and scanned the different selections. She had all the basics. Chocolate, vanilla, raspberry, and a lemon tart.

I ordered two, a chocolate and raspberry with cream cheese frosting. They were going to be the bomb.

"Just get that one," I said to Broadrick and pointed at a chocolate-on-chocolate cupcake. He acted as if he waited long enough, a sugar-free, healthy cupcake might jump out at him.

He furrowed his brow as she took it out of the case. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, you can't go wrong with chocolate." I swear, sometimes I wondered how we ended up together. Who turned away chocolate on chocolate? "If you hate it, I'll finish it for you."

The woman bagged up our cupcakes-That was weird. Why waste a bag when we'd just take them out?-and handed them to Broadrick over the counter after he paid.

"Have a great day," I said to her as we turned toward a table at the far end of the bakery. She hadn't been overly friendly, so maybe an enthusiastic customer would turn her mood into a better one.

She said nothing back, so I dropped my gaze to the floor and pulled out a chair, dropping into it as Broadrick set the bag in front of me.

"No sitting!" she yelled from behind the register.