The Wedding Veil(52)

I laughed. “He’s gone,” I said. “I was actually having a closure breakfast with him that morning when you saw us. I sort of thought I’d never see you again.”

He scoffed. “Conner Howard doesn’t walk away from a challenge.” He smiled at me.

“Don’t talk about yourself in third person, please. It’s super creepy.”

He nodded. “Duly noted.”

I could feel both our nerves melting away. “How has the rest of your trip been?”

He shrugged. “Good. Fun. Less fun than when you were with me?” he said hesitantly.

That was when I finally relaxed. Our dynamic was back. “Same,” I said. Then I paused. “Wait. How did you know I was here?”

He smiled. “Well, my parents stayed here for a couple nights before they went home, and my mom was going on and on about this paddleboard yoga instructor she thought was so cute and who was going to finish architecture school.” He raised his eyebrow.

I laughed, remembering the petite lady with the kind eyes who had really wowed me with her balance. “That was your mom?”

“It sure was. You’re going to finish your professional degree?”

“I like trying things out on strangers, but, yeah, I’m thinking about it.”

He grinned proudly. “I took a leap of faith that maybe it was you, that maybe you hadn’t gotten back with that guy, and that maybe, just maybe, you were still here.”

I nodded. “That’s a lot of leaps.”

He locked his eyes on mine. “You are worth it.” He paused. “Hey, want to go have an opening breakfast?”

“An opening breakfast?”

“Yeah, you know. Like the opposite of your breakfast with Hayes.”

I laughed. “I wish I could, but I have a private lesson.”

He pointed at himself. “Me. I’m your private lesson.”

I smiled. I had hoped that was the case. “Well then, let’s get out there.”

“I’d really rather just go eat breakfast if it’s all the same to you.”

I leaned down and struggled to pick up one of the paddleboards under my arm. “Can’t sneak off on the job. Grab a board and an anchor and follow me!”

Trav looked amused.

I began paddling off into a secluded spot that was deep enough that if Conner fell—which, let’s face it, he was going to—he wouldn’t hit the bottom.

I looked back to see him following me, shakily. I smiled and dropped my anchor, motioning for him to come up beside me. He knocked his board into mine. “Conner, we can’t do yoga this close together,” I laughed as he dropped his anchor.

“No?” he asked innocently, turning to square up his body with mine and running his free hand down my cheek. He put his hand on my waist, tentatively, and suddenly, my butterflies had butterflies. I moved to wrap my paddle-free arm around his neck, and when I did, my board tipped, knocking us both off our precarious balance and into the cold water.

“You’re supposed to be a professional,” Conner said, laughing, as he came back to the surface. Our paddles were floating nearby, and I swam to Conner and held on. This time, I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him. He brushed my wet hair off my forehead and kissed me a second time. “Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi.” I smiled.

“How about you come back to my boat with me?”

I nodded, climbing back on top of my paddleboard. “We can take these over. Trav won’t mind.”

I let Conner get up ahead. I was so surprised to see him again that I was practically floating on air. But I was also already dreading having to say goodbye. I adored him.

He helped me onto the boat, and I kneeled to lift my paddleboard onto the deck. Conner pulled me up, and wrapping me in his warm embrace, kissed me again. It felt so good to have his skin on mine. He tasted of seawater and smelled just a little bit earthy and real, which I found intoxicating.

As we kissed, I felt him pull the ties on my bikini top with a practiced hand. “Oops,” he whispered as it fell.

“Conner,” I scolded.

“The staff has the morning off,” he said.

“Someone will see!” I protested.

He took a step back to admire my toplessness and said, “Well, then, we’d better get you inside.”

He pressed the button to open the sealed door and we stepped inside, the door closing behind us. In a matter of seconds, my body was pressed against the glass, his hands in my hair, and suddenly, any proclamation of not seeing him again felt impossible, silly. As the string on my bikini bottom gave way, I forgot that Hayes was the only person I had ever slept with, and that maybe I should be nervous about what that meant. I forgot about the girl I had been with him for all those years. Today, right now, I was a woman.





CORNELIA A Vanderbilt

April 29, 1924





If Cornelia was honest with herself, she knew she’d fallen in love with Jack partly because of his English accent. But was that so wrong, really? She knew plenty of girls who had fallen in love with a man because of his money or his title, his family or his connections. Although Jack did have all those other bright, shining qualities, everyone knew that Cornelia, who was widely regarded as America’s wealthiest woman, didn’t need any of them.