I barely glanced at the woman who followed me onto the empty yacht deck. It’s a week later and I’m in Cannes, watching the sunset over vast oceans while the party goes on behind me. I’m supposed to be joining in. But instead, I’m over here enjoying the scent of the salt and sea, feeling the wind on my face.

Carly flew back to Laketown without me, and I flew straight here.

I’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls ever since. My grandfather. My father. They’ve probably reached out to my mom too, even though she hasn’t spoken to anyone since her sabbatical started. The radio silence from the woman who raised me used to bother me, but I don’t resent it anymore.

I understand her completely.

I don’t feel like talking to anyone right now either. I didn’t even want to party but I needed a distraction. Cannes has always been that for me.

But it’s not doing its job today. After a few hours of pretending I can’t stomach it anymore. Because it’s not adequately distracting me from the fact that the one person I do want to hear from hasn’t sent a word to me.

Carly hasn’t spoken to me since that day. Even after we had sex, and she fell asleep in my arms, I woke up later to find her putting her clothes on silently before requesting that she wants to go back home. We left New York City in strained silence and since then... nothing.

And it’s driving me insane.

How does she detach so easily? How could we have sex that intense and she just leave like it’s nothing to her?

What’s driving me even more insane is that I can’t figure out why I care so much. The deal was a bust. My grandfather will never approve of her now. I should forget all about her and maybe think about someone else I can use to convince my grandfather.

But instead, all week my mind has been filled with fucking Carly Huntley.

“Hey, are you even listening to me?”

I turn and consider the woman. I don’t recognize her but she’s pretty enough. Tall, svelte. Blonde. Of course, my grandfather would never approve of her for marriage, but she’s a good candidate for a few hours of distraction.

But even as I have the thought, my body does not rise to the occasion. Some disgust even echoes in my mind.

Nothing about me wants to be with this woman today. I don’t want to be with anyone else right now either.

And I cannot for the life of me figure out why.

“Sorry,” I tell her. “I’m afraid I’m not good company today.”

“Are you sure?” She crosses her arms underneath her chest, in a way that shows off her perfectly perky breasts. They really are nice. It would be great if my body gave a fuck.

“Yes,” I sigh and turn back to the ocean. “I’m sure.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CARLY

“Son of a bitch!”

The words explode out of my mouth as pain arcs across my palm and up my entire hand. I immediately yank said hand away from the hot pan handle and dash over to the sink. My other hand fumbles with the tap and a second later, cold water gushes out. I shove my hand underneath, biting my lip as the water slashed over the burn.

The door behind me opens and closes and Yule calls out, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I say. “I just burned myself.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just steps in beside me to analyze the damage. He sees the red spot on my palm and puts two and two together. “You tried to grab the pot without using the rag, didn’t you?”

I don’t say anything. I don’t have to, as his frown deepens.

“Damn it, Carly, I warned you.” His usual easygoing drawl now takes on a scolding tone. “You’ve been distracted all damn morning. I told you that if you had something serious on your mind you could just go home for the day.”

“Except I can’t just go home, Yule.” Apart from the fact that I’ve already taken off way more days than I should, I don’t want to go home. Going home would just give me more time to sit around and do nothing but think about my problems. And lately, those problems just seem to pile up more and more.

Going home would also mean having no distraction to keep from thinking about Micah.