"What's going on with you, Sam?"
Jared had never seriously pictured life without her.
A year ago, his ex finally hit her limit. She was done with his hair-trigger temper, done with his refusal to hold a steady job, done with the way he spent every day fantasizing about pirate treasure instead of building a real life.
So she left.
She went to Nassau, and the gossip spread fast. Not long after, she supposedly latched onto a wealthy tourist and disappeared overseas as someone's kept woman.
Jared spiraled for a while after that.
Then, out of nowhere, he turned to the girl next door. The childhood friend who'd known him forever. The one who still cooked for him and cleaned up his messes when he vanished for days and came crawling back.
He confessed.
And somehow, it worked.
For the past year, Jared had lived like a man drowning in honey.
Sam wasn't like the ex. She didn't nag him every day about ambition and paychecks. She wanted a home more than she wanted luxury, probably because she'd lost hers so early.
At first, Jared felt guilty. Uneasy. Like he didn't deserve her.
Then he got used to it.
And once he got used to her patience, his temper got worse. His pride got louder. His shame faded into entitlement.
Even when he got fired, he stopped feeling bad.
He let Sam's paycheck keep him afloat and called it normal.
That was why he'd exploded yesterday when Sam told him she'd accepted a private guiding job for an off-island tourist.
He wasn't furious because he was protective.
He was terrified.
Terrified she'd get tempted by money, just like his ex. Just like the mother he barely even remembered. Terrified she'd leave the Bahamas and leave him behind, stranded with nothing but his ego and his broken boat.
He wouldn't apologize. He wouldn't beg.
But after a night of twisting in bed, he woke up to find Sam already gone.
Not only gone, but dressed up. Fresh. Bright. Sexy in that effortless way that made men stare.
Every alarm bell in his skull went off.
So he followed her.
Quietly. Carefully.
All the way to the far edge of Paradise Island, to the oceanfront villa district where a single night cost more than he could make in a month.
He watched Sam ring the bell.
Then she slipped inside before he could even get a clear look at the place.
For a moment, Jared nearly charged in.
He told himself it was about safety. That maybe she was walking into danger.
But he knew the truth. If he forced his way onto a rich man's property and got caught, he'd end up in a cell. He swallowed the impulse and stayed hidden.
Sam stayed inside for over half an hour.
When she finally came out, Jared saw him.
Young. Tall. Asian. Clean-cut in the way expensive men were clean-cut. The kind of guy who didn't have to yell to get what he wanted.
And Sam was smiling while she talked to him.
Laughing, even.
Jared's jealousy turned sour and hot.
Then the two of them started walking, touring the island like it was their private playground.
Jared tailed them at a distance.
Nothing happened that he could point at and call proof. The guy kept his hands to himself. He looked polite. Almost disciplined.
But Jared saw the way he looked at Sam.
Men understood men.
That look said interest. That look said intent.
That look said mine.
Jared's chest tightened, rage and panic feeding each other.
Still, he didn't jump out.
Sam was gentle, but she wasn't weak. She had a mind of her own.
And worse, they really were broke.
Jared was a diver. A damn good one. He'd spent years dreaming about treasure, and the recent storm had given him hope. Big storms shifted seabeds. Sometimes they dragged wreckage closer. Sometimes they exposed things that had been hidden for decades.
He needed money to repair his father's old fishing boat so he could get back out there.
But he'd thrown his boss into the water yesterday.
No job. No paycheck. No savings.
If Sam didn't take that guiding gig, they'd be living on air and stubbornness.
So Jared swallowed his anger.
Right up until the moment they reached the beach.
The rich guy pulled out a sketch kit and started painting.
Sam stood close, watching him work.
Then she moved where he asked her to stand.
Like a model.
Like it was natural.
And when he handed her the finished painting, Sam lit up.
A real smile.
A smile Jared had convinced himself belonged to him.
That was when Jared almost snapped.
He was already stepping out of cover when the two of them began packing up to leave.
Something slipped free from the guy's belongings and fluttered down into the sand.
Jared froze.
He waited until they were far enough away, then rushed over to the spot.
A sheet of paper.
He scooped it up and glanced down.
His anger evaporated.
Excitement hit him like a shot of adrenaline.
"A map…"
His fingers tightened.
"Is this a treasure map?"
He stared harder, his brain spinning.
"That guy isn't just some random tourist."
Then the lines on the page started to look familiar.
Jared's breath caught.
"Wait."
"This patch of water…"
He swallowed.
"I know this place."
It was one of their favorite dive zones. A spot locals whispered about. Clear visibility, good depth, strong currents that moved things around.
A golden area.
"Does that mean…"
His eyes widened.
"Is there treasure down there?"
In that instant, Sam barely mattered.
All Jared could see was the map.
And the promise buried beneath the blue.
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