Page 14 of Spring Break with a Billionaire

“You deserve happiness,” Luke says sincerely, studying me carefully. “After everything you’ve been through—losing Natalie’s mom, years of dedicating yourself fully to work and responsibilities—you’ve earned the right to love again, Cameron. You don’t have to be alone.”

My heart clenches gently at his words, knowing he’s right. The past has been heavy, filled with responsibilities and quiet grief. Cricket’s presence in my life feels like sunshine after years of darkness. She’s warm, life-giving, joyful. Denying my feelings would be a disservice to both of us.

“You’re right,” I say finally, determination clear in my voice. “I won’t let fear or doubts hold me back. Cricket deserves honesty, sincerity, openness.”

“And you deserve happiness,” Luke emphasizes gently. “Don’t forget that.”

“Thank you, Luke,” I murmur gratefully, sincerity evident in my voice. “You’ve always been a good friend.” I pause, “Even when you stole my daughter away from me.”

He smiles gently, clapping my shoulder warmly. “Always here for you, Cameron. Now, go find Cricket and let her know exactly how you feel. Don’t waste another second hesitating.”

“I won’t,” I promise quietly, heart determined and hopeful.

As evening falls softly over Love Beach, stars glitter gently overhead, the ocean peaceful and serene. My thoughts are filled with Cricket, anticipation warming my chest as I picture the moment I’ll finally tell her exactly how deeply she’s captured my heart.

Because, no matter what the future holds, I refuse to deny myself happiness. Cricket Adams has reminded me what it truly means to feel alive again.

Seven

Chapter Seven

Cameron

The evening air is soft, wrapped in a warmth that feels almost tangible as Cricket and I stroll along the shoreline. Our footprints mark a winding path in the damp sand, the gentle waves erasing them moments after we pass, as if the ocean itself knows our story is only temporary. The sky fades from golden to a velvet indigo, stars beginning to blink softly overhead.

Cricket’s hand rests comfortably in mine, our fingers intertwined with a familiarity that belies the short time we’ve known each other. She gazes quietly at the ocean, her expression peaceful yet thoughtful. I steal glances at her, marveling at how effortlessly beautiful she is, illuminated by the fading light, her loose curls catching softly in the breeze.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” she murmurs, squeezing my hand gently.

“I think this might be my favorite time of day,” I agree, turning slightly toward her. “Everything feels possible at twilight—like the world is holding its breath, waiting.”

Her eyes flick toward mine, warm with curiosity. “Waiting for what?”

I smile gently, shrugging one shoulder. “Anything. Everything. Like the future is open, ready to be shaped by whatever choices we make.”

She studies me quietly for a moment, a tender smile playing on her lips. “That’s a beautiful way to see it.”

We continue walking, our silence comfortable, filled with unspoken emotion. Eventually, I pause, turning fully toward her, reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair gently behind her ear.

“Cricket,” I begin softly, voice thick with genuine feeling. “I’ve been thinking about us, about this week, and about what comes after.”

She glances downward briefly, her smile flickering subtly, an almost imperceptible tension appearing in her shoulders. “What have you been thinking?”

I take a slow breath, stepping a little closer, allowing myself the vulnerability I rarely show. “I know this started as something casual, temporary. But I can’t help imagining more, beyond this week. I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye to you, Cricket. I want to know what could happen if we let this continue, if we explore where it could lead.”

She takes a small breath, visibly conflicted, before meeting my gaze again. Her eyes hold warmth and affection, but also hesitation.

“Cameron, this week has been amazing—truly. Being with you feels… right,” she admits softly. “But we both have lives waiting for us, responsibilities and realities that might not align. I don’t want to set us both up for disappointment by making promises about something neither of us can control.”

“I understand,” I murmur, thumb stroking softly across her knuckles. “I’m not asking for promises. I just want us both to remain open to possibilities.”

She nods gently, her gaze softening. “Maybe we can just enjoy what we have right now. No expectations, no pressure. Just us, in this moment.”

I squeeze her hand reassuringly, understanding her need to keep things uncomplicated, even as I quietly hope for more. “All right. Right now, just us. That’s enough.”

Cricket smiles gratefully, relief flickering gently through her expression. We resume our leisurely stroll along the beach, the conversation shifting naturally to lighter, easier topics. We share more stories, laughter, and quiet, tender moments, both of us carefully skirting around any further talk of the future.

As twilight gives way fully to night, we find ourselves back near her cottage, slowing to a stop by the porch steps. She turns toward me, her face illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight.

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