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The sun-bleached dollarbills billowed like boat flags in the humid breeze generated by the clusters of rusted fans. Dust clung to them like a second skin, dulling the metallic buzz until it was absorbed by the daily sounds of the busy marina. Sail lines clanked, buoys squeaked, seabirds squawked.

It was a soundtrack that normally soothed Jake Shepard, but he found his gaze restless. He systematically scanned the beach-clad patrons seeking shelter from the blazing Florida sun under the colorful umbrellas and sagging sun sails.

The crunch of pebbles beneath their feet as they stomped out a rhythm to the one-man band crooning Southern blues on stage was unnerving. It shouldn’t be. Schooner’s Wharf was the one place Jake could escape it all. Where he could blend into the leather-skinned locals crowding the old Key West dive bar.

It was easy to disappear among the clutter.

Stickers, coasters, and patches from every branch of military and police were stapled into the hurricane petrified wood.

Here you were everyone and no one.

Here Jake could pretend he didn’t live his life looking over his shoulder.

At least that’s how it’d been every other time he’d visited.

But something was off this time.

The creak of a saloon door had him looking toward the restrooms. That’s when he saw her walking toward him, her dark hair unbound, sun-kissed freckles dappling her cheeks: Dana Gray.

Her grin widened as she walked in his direction. As usual, the mere sight of her distracted him to the point of carelessness. And that was when she was in her usual stuffy librarian attire.

Here, in a red bikini and white sundress that left little to the imagination, Dana was a vision. One that demanded all of his attention. So much so that the flash of gun metal surprised him.

It was almost indecipherable among the dull propellers and aged bronze ship paraphernalia. But Jake had been trained to spot it. Though this time, the loud echo of gunfire told him he was too late.

Jake woke with a start,his hand automatically reaching out for Dana even though he knew she wouldn’t be there. It didn’t escape him that it was his own damn fault he was waking up from another nightmare alone.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he sat up letting the regret settle over him as he absorbed the scene around him. Another day in his cramped childhood bedroom.

Another day waking from the same dream-turned-nightmare.

Another day without Dana.

Jake exhaled heavily as he replayed his last conversation with Dana over again.

“Jake, I’ll come with you.”

“I appreciate the offer, Dana, but I can take care of this myself.”

“I know you can, but I’m offering to be there anyway.”

“It’s not the right time, besides, you need to be here for Claire.”

“We have plenty of time before Claire needs us. This is important, Jake. It’s your family.”

He knew precisely how highly Dana regarded family which was exactly why he didn’t want her here. When he’d responded, he’d purposely let the frustration creep into his voice, so she’d know he was done negotiating. “Dana, it’s not the right time.”

He was beginning to wonder if it ever would be.

After their graveside kiss it seemed they’d finally gotten their timing right. So right in fact they’d ended up at his place, stripping each other bare as they pinballed down his hallway like a couple of horny teens. But their passion had been swiftly interrupted by a phone call from Wade.

Jake couldn’t help wondering what would’ve happened if he hadn’t answered. If they’d spent the night together, would he have truly let Dana in? Would she be here with him now, sitting beside him on the stars and stripes sheets still adorning his childhood bed? Or better yet, would he have made good on his promise to take her to the Keys, where they could be sitting at Schooner’s, sipping cold beer between salty kisses?

The nightmare he kept waking from told him he’d made the right call. If life had taught Jake Shepard one thing, it was that a world where he got what he wanted didn’t exist. Bringing Dana here would only have accelerated the end of something that might never be, no matter how much he wanted it.