Page 5 of Spring Break with a Billionaire

“So, Cameron,” I say, clearing my throat slightly, trying to steer us back onto safer ground. “Do you plan to spend the entire vacation perfecting marshmallow-roasting techniques, or do you have other big plans?”

He chuckles, clearly amused by my deliberate shift to casual conversation. “Mostly marshmallows. But I’d like to explore a bit, too. See if this place can teach me how to truly relax.”

“I hope it does,” I say sincerely, smiling gently. “You deserve it.”

His eyes soften, holding mine again for a long, meaningful moment. “Thank you, Cricket.”

As I glance away, cheeks warming again, I know deep down I’m already breaking Abby’s rule. I’m drawn to Cameron Shaw. His quiet confidence, thoughtful manner, and undeniable charm are all so attractive. But the voice of reason inside me speaks louder, reminding me firmly that Cameron isn’t the kind of guy to have a carefree vacation fling. He’s complicated, mature, and undeniably attractive.

I’m here for relaxation, not romance. Right?

So, despite my undeniable pull toward him, I resolve silently to keep things friendly and uncomplicated. Anything else is asking for trouble.

* * *

Cameron

I lie in bed, wide awake, sheets tangled around my legs, body hot and restless. It’s been hours since I said goodnight to her, but I’m still hard, still aching. The kind of ache that doesn’t go away with time. If anything, it’s gotten worse.

Cricket.

Her name is a drumbeat in my head, and every time it hits, it triggers a new image. Her in that tank top, soft curves barely contained, the line of her bra just visible beneath the thin fabric. The way her breasts moved when she laughed, the deep V of her neckline drawing my eyes, whether I wanted to look or not. And those shorts—damn. Her legs went on forever, toned and smooth and impossible to ignore. She had them crossed so casually, so confidently, like she didn’t even realize how tempting she looked.

I shift, rolling onto my back with a groan, my body tight with need. I can still feel the heat of her beside me. I didn’t touch her. Barely even stood close, but it didn’t matter. The way she smiled at me, the gleam in her hazel eyes—playful, curious, interested—it lit me up like nothing has in years.

She was funny, sharp, and real. No pretenses. No bullshit. Just this bright, beautiful woman who made me feel important while she talked to me. She’s younger, probably too young, but I just don’t care. I feel a pull to her I haven’t felt for anyone since Natalie’s mom died. Fifteen years is a long time to be alone.

I rub my hands over my face, then press them to my chest, trying to calm my racing pulse. It doesn’t work. Every thought circles back to her—the flush in her cheeks when she teased me, the way her lips wrapped around her straw, the soft shape of her mouth. I want that mouth on me. I want her legs around me. I want the weight of her on my chest, my lap, anywhere she’ll fit.

I want to see her again. Not just because she’s sexy—though she is, in the most distracting, heart-thudding way—but because I liked being around her. I liked how easy it felt. She made me forget everything else for a little while.

I exhale sharply and turn my head toward the dark window. The ocean is out there, quiet and endless, but my mind’s still full of her.

I need to see her again. Make her laugh again. Get her talking, watch her light up, and maybe, if I’m lucky, touch her. Taste her. Feel those long, gorgeous thighs wrapped around me instead of just imagining it.

Tomorrow, I decide firmly, I’ll find a way to see her again. Not because it’s rational, or even wise. But because I have to.

Three

Chapter Three

Cameron

I wake early, sunlight already filtering through sheer curtains, bathing the room in a warm glow. For a moment, I lie quietly, just breathing in the ocean air drifting through the open balcony doors. The night had been restless, thoughts filled with a charming woman I barely know but can’t stop thinking about. Cricket.

She’s the reason I couldn’t sleep. My mind replayed every subtle glance and engaging smile she gave me last night. I’d sworn I wouldn’t let anyone distract me from finding peace this vacation, yet here I am, completely captivated by a woman whose laughter echoes gently through my memory.

With a resigned sigh, I rise from bed and pull on a loose pair of khaki shorts and a soft white linen shirt. It’s early enough that Luke and Natalie are still sleeping, so I quietly slip outside, closing the door softly behind me. The beach is peaceful, deserted except for a few early risers jogging or strolling near the water’s edge. The morning breeze is cool against my skin, carrying the fresh scent of salt and sand.

I decide to walk into town, my footsteps sinking comfortably into the soft sand as I move along the shore. The rhythm of the ocean is soothing, its constant, steady pulse a reminder of why I came here: to slow down, to breathe, and perhaps to find a simpler version of happiness than the hectic world I left behind.

Soon, the town comes into view, the colorful storefronts cheerful in the bright morning sun. I spot a charming café nestled right on the sand, its pastel walls faded by time, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifts invitingly toward me. It seems like the perfect spot to start my morning—a cup of coffee, a view of the sea, and nothing but my thoughts for company.

Inside, the café is small and cozy, painted in hues of soft blue and creamy white. Vintage wooden tables dot the space, each holding tiny jars filled with wildflowers. A few other patrons sit scattered about, sipping from mugs and enjoying pastries that look homemade and delicious.

I step up to the counter, scanning the handwritten menu board. A friendly older woman smiles warmly, her eyes crinkling with genuine kindness. “Good morning. What can I get you?”

“I’ll take a coffee, black, and maybe one of those blueberry muffins.” I gesture toward the glass case filled with tempting pastries.

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