He nods. “Hank. Yeah, he still asks about you.”

“And you remember what I told you then?”

“That you don’t date firefighters?” When I nod, his forehead wrinkles with his frown. “I thought that was an excuse to spare Hank’s feelings. That was for real?”

“It was for real.” I take a deep breath. I don’t like talking about my past, but after last night, Carter deserves more than my typical evasions. “I moved home after college and fell in love. Heath was a police officer. We weren’t engaged yet, but at one point I thought we’d get married. Spend our lives together. He died in the line of duty and . . . it sucked, Carter.”

“Shit. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I don’t really talk about it,” I say. He searches my face, as if he can tell there’s more to the story and he’s trying to read it on my skin. I hope he can’t. “Those months after were like nothing I can explain. It hurt, and I was reckless and made bad decisions. When I moved here to start over, I promised myself I’d never be with a guy whose job puts him in danger every single day. So, yes, I’m attracted to you. Last night was fun, and I am thinking about how good it would feel to keep going down that road.” I lick my lips. “But you’re my friend, and I like that. If we started sleeping together . . .” It would be too easy to fall for you. You would be so damn easy to love.

But Carter isn’t offering me love. He’s offering me sex, so I choose my words carefully. “I would worry and make you crazy.”

“So you’re saying I can only kiss you when other people are watching?”

“Exactly.” My gaze drifts away from him—from the temptation of his mouth and those dark eyes that seem to devour me. Myla’s friends are talking to each other and don’t seem to notice that her expression has slowly morphed from mischievous to sad. As she tucks her phone back into her purse, I realize what I’m asking might be much more complicated than I anticipated. This isn’t the same as taking a guy to a wedding at home and pretending he’s my boyfriend. It’s not even the same as pretending to be together for a night in front of a crowd of strangers. My family is coming here. To Jackson Harbor—the place we go about our individual lives that are very much not romantically entwined.

“Maybe this is a bad idea,” I say. But the alternative? Being under the same roof as Rich Nasser and letting him know I’m single? Giving him any hope that he might be able to win me back? The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I wish it didn’t scare me as much as it does. “You wouldn’t be able to date anyone or even tell anyone who you can’t trust one hundred percent.” I nod toward Myla. “Before you agree, you need to consider who might get hurt.”