Page 73 of A Very Happy Easter

“You’d tell her to join the choir?”

Goodness, no. Firstly, I couldn’t hold a note, and secondly, the local vicar had been arrested for crimes far worse than Neil’s.

I shook my head. “I’d tell her to wait for the right man, and for crying out loud, to be more discreet about it.”

“Discreet can also be an issue. My first time happened behind an HVAC unit on the school roof. Halfway through—okay, maybe three-quarters seeing as I was sixteen and my staying power was questionable in those days—the caretaker realised the door to the roof was unlocked and took care of that shit.”

I burst into giggles. “You got stuck up there?”

“Yeah. My then girlfriend went into panic mode, so I climbed back into the building through an open window on the top floor and rescued her.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t marry you for that.”

“Really?”

“How high was the building?”

“Three floors.”

“You could have done yourself a serious injury if you’d fallen. It was very brave.”

“Climbing through a window is a low, low bar, Edie. If I could tell you some of the other James Bond shit I’ve done over the years, you’d be dragging me down the aisle.” Heath waved a bandaged hand towards Casa Santo. “Guess we’d better check out our digs.”

My eyes prickled as I walked up the steps ahead of him. If I were able to go back in time and offer advice to my sixteen-year-old self, I’d tell her to sit tight and wait for Heath Carlisle.

I’d considered booking a suite or an overwater bungalow at Mandarin Bay like almost everyone else, but then I’d seen a picture of Casa Santo, nestled between hills above the beach with steps winding down to its own private cove. I’d grown to love my privacy, and apart from visits by the maid who came by once a day to tidy up, Heath and I would have peace and quiet. Each of the three bedrooms had its own balcony, and the pool on the terrace looked out over the sea below. A porter had already carried our luggage inside. We wandered through the house, checking out the living room, the dining area, the kitchen, and the bedrooms. Heath insisted I take the master.

And my eyes began to water. Fuck.

“What’s wrong, Edie?”

“Nothing. I mean, everything. This week…this week has been a nightmare. You nearly died. You nearly died, and it was because of me.”

“If we’re talking brushes with death, I’ve had far closer ones. Everyone got out of the building alive, even the dog. And none of it was your fault. Don’t blame yourself for a psycho’s obsession.”

“But he came after you.”

“And he missed. Forget him and focus on the here and now, okay? What do you want to do for the rest of the day?”

“Honestly? Nothing. I just want to sleep.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“You don’t mind that?”

“Sleep is underrated. Did I ever tell you my nickname was Button?”

“No, you never mentioned that. As in ‘cute as a’?”

He shook his head. “One time near the beginning of my military career, I had to go for decompression in Cyprus. Which isn’t as bad as it sounds—we bitch on the beach for a couple of days, and they bring in singers and comedians and the like to entertain us. And I kept nodding off in the middle of it.”

“Awww.”

“And every time someone woke me up, I dropped off again. So, snooze button.”

“Okay, I’m still going with my version.”

“I think I prefer that one.” Heath smiled and brushed the hair away from my face with an unburned fingertip. “Sleep, and I can head into town to pick up something to eat.”