The other two concerts were much the same. The rock group had more girls throwing themselves at the band members. The alternative fans were cool the way they dressed with hair dyed in bright colors and lots of cropped tops showing off pierced bellies, but they had the most respect for themselves and the band.

The plane was ready for them after the last concert. Doyle would have been happy to wait, but Baxter needed the plane and their pilot, Gavin, had to have the required rest in between.

As they boarded, Gray looked around. "This is nicer than Sinclairs'."

"Once we're in the air, we can sleep." She pointed to the bedroom.

His eyes grew large. "When are we going to talk about what comes next?"

Doyle groaned. "Do we have to?" He nodded. "Fine. We won't hide. If my mother disagrees, then I'll move out. That's what Baxter did, and he's the prince. It will be his house eventually, but he bought his own home."

Once the plane was in the air, she stood up. "Do you want to sleep?"

He shook his head. "It's like we'd be sleeping in your father's house."

She laughed. "We can just sleep. I'm going to the bedroom. Join me or not."

Doyle took off her boots, but kept her clothes on. It would be morning when they arrived in Boston. As she turned to get comfortable, Gray appeared. "Okay, but no funny business."

"I can handle it. Can you?"

He pulled her in his arms. "I'm tired. Thanks for letting me take care of you."

"I was perfectly safe."

He chuckled. "Maybe. Maybe not. One of those guys tonight was eyeing you like you were a juicy steak."

"Seriously?"

"He was drooling."

"Stop teasing."

He held her tight. "I'm not. You are so beautiful. Now go to sleep."

His words kept her awake, but his steady breathing lulled her under. She hoped her mother gave her an excuse to move out. She wanted to sleep with Gray.

When Doyle returned home, her father was alone in the dining room. He looked up from the paper and smiled.

"Hi daddy." She kissed his cheek.

"Did you sleep?" She nodded.

"Good."

"Daddy, you know I fell in love with Gray."

"The chauffeur."

"He's more than that. I found out something important."

He frowned. "I'm listening."

"I had the cross on when I was attacked. I didn't know, but in my sleep I had a dream and kissed him. Daddy, I don't just love him. He's my cross love."

"You can find another love. One that will give you a good life."

She felt like a cat with her back up. "Like you did, because you let Eleanor go."

He shook his head. "You don't understand."

"But I do. I don't want to cheat on my husband to be with the man I love. Times have changed. No one cares who I'm with. If they do it will blow over like my destructive behavior with the band. No one expects me to marry up or even my equal." I'm the drug-using party girl.

"The Hathorne boy."

"Is a nice guy who I met at a nightclub, but I don't love him. I love Gray."

"I thought you were over him."

"I will never be. Just like you, and Tate who loved Jimmy for years. I will always love Gray."

"Your mother will never approve."

"I'm prepared to move out. She lost a son. Does she want to lose a daughter? If Kasper wins his show, Mother will only have one child left. Her favorite, Tate Kane-Sinclair."

"Your mother doesn't have a favorite." Doyle let it go. "She's coming around with Ivy."

"Like a snail crossing a street. I want your support. Daddy, he's a good man."

He sighed. "The damn cross."

"I know, but Gray is a hundred times better than the rockstar I wanted to kiss with the cross around my neck. Will you meet him?"

Philip sighed. "Does he sail?"

"I don't think so, but he's a world traveler."

"It's a good day for a sail."

It was only April, so it was still early in the season."

"I'll see if he is available."

Gray was hesitant to agree, but she ended the call smiling. "We'll pick you up. Wear warm layers."

In the car, she looked at Philip with doe eyes. "Be nice, Daddy."

"I'm always nice."

Mrs. Moran had packed a picnic lunch. Doyle peeked in the basket. It didn't look like sandwiches and potato chips. Her belly churned, but she didn't feel hungry.

When she yawned, Philip frowned. "Tired."

"The flight wasn't long enough for a full night's sleep. I'll need a nap."

As Gray filled in the backseat, they made awkward introductions. "Mr. Kane." He held his hand out in front of Doyle who sat in the middle.

Philip shook hands without indicating Gray used too strong of a grip. For his size, he could control his strength. Doyle knew how gentle he was, not just in bed, but with Ana.

"Have you sailed?"

"No, not the way you mean. I deployed to the gulf on an aircraft carrier."

"The gulf?"

"The marines, sir."

"No wonder you're so polite. My daughter isn't nearly as polite."

"That's not true." Doyle took the criticism if it complimented Gray.

"How long have you been a civilian?"

"Ten years."

"And what do you do now?"

"I work for Monty Whitby. I'm sure you know I drive him, but I have spent years traveling with him for both Whitby and his own personal travel. We've been to six continents together."

"Daddy, Gray is publishing a novel."

"Really. On your own?"

Gray chuckled. "With a lot of help from my editor and publisher."

"Aren't getting those the hardest part?"

Doyle jumped in. "Yes, isn't it wonderful?"

Gray added, "I got lucky." With his publishing connection.

"You seem enterprising. My youngest son is a reality TV star."

Doyle smiled. Two points to Gray.

"I've seen him on television. He's very good. Sofia Whitby is a huge fan of his."

"You would never know he has an MBA from the best business school in the country. Doyle is talented and uses it productively. When she stays away from rock bands."

"I was safe this week and not stupid."

"That's..." Doyle elbowed Gray. Her father didn't know about Jimmy sending Gray to California. Gray cleared his throat. "That's my opinion too, after what happened."

"You saved her?"

"I did."

"Look! We're at the marina."

Overall, it wasn't a bad car ride, but Doyle didn't want to talk about her attack.

Gray took the picnic hamper from their driver and thanked him. Philip said, "Thank you, young man."

Doyle wondered if her father realized Gray was seven years older than her.

As they approached the boat, Gray squeezed her hand. "She's a beauty."

"My second love."

"Daddy!" Doyle exclaimed.

"Third, but if you want to be technical you and your siblings come first. It's an expression."

"We love it too."

They stepped onto the boat and Doyle showed Gray the galley. She brushed his lips. "He's trying."

Back on deck, Doyle helped untie the ropes. "I'm the only kid who can't sail."

Philip started the engine, and they motored out of the marina. It was early for sailing, but it was a mild April day. With the engine off, Philip hoisted the sail.

Doyle motioned for Gray to sit on the deck with her. "I might fall asleep."

"Have you slept on the water?"

She nodded. "My dad used to take us on weekend trips."

She looked back at him. Her father was happiest on the water. Even though she wasn't a sailor, the boat held some special memories. She smiled and tucked a thought away until lunch when they dropped the anchor.

The sun was warm, so she took off her windbreaker. They sailed out towards Thompson Island and dropped anchor out of the shipping lanes.

Philip looked at Gray. "What do you think?"

"It's amazing."

Doyle smiled. "Wait until a summer day. It's incredible."

"I'd sail three-sixty-five if I could, but Boston winters."

"I'm surprised you don't spend the winter sailing the Caribbean."

He shrugged. "My wife doesn't like to sail."

Doyle laughed. "Plus, she couldn't be in her kids' business if she left Boston like Jimmy's parents."

"Where are they?"

"They have a home on Saint Croix. They come home for the holidays and the summer."

"The Whitbys have a house on Saint Thomas, but they hardly use it. I haven't been since before we met Sofia."

Doyle stood. "I'll get the food."

"I'll help."

Gray followed her down the steps. Doyle said, "I'll get plates, if you carry the basket."

She grabbed three water bottles and utensils to go with the plates. When she reached the others, Gray said, "The stroke affected his ability to talk. He needs care for everything."

Philip shook his head. "I never knew him. I've recovered from a heart attack and have a clean bill of health."

"Okay. Looks like we have some good food."

"Who prepared this?" Gray watched as she unpacked.

"Mrs. Moran in our kitchen. I'll bake for you again."

Gray smiled. They each served themselves and started eating. "This pesto is delicious. I like the hint of lemon."

"Daddy, Gray is a total foodie."

"Baxter cooks. Do you?"

"Enough to get by. Monty is the cook in the family. I like to eat. This tapenade is delicious."

"We'll have to tell Mrs. Moran she has a new fan."

"Daddy. I had an idea earlier. Could we have Tate's bachelorette weekend on the boat, like the weekends when you took us away."

"We ate hot dogs." He winked.

"Obviously, we'll have better food. We could take a sunset sail. Then we could sleep at the marina. You can go home. Maybe another sail on Sunday."

He nodded. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. It's perfect. I'll run it by Ivy, but Tate loves the boat. Thank you. Thank you."

"There may not be enough room to sleep on the boat."

"Maybe just me, Ivy, Dani, and Tate." Tate didn't like her old friends anymore.

He shook his head. "I thought you would want the plane."

Doyle shrugged. "Tate will like this better." The party had been on her mind, but none of her ideas felt right. Hopefully, Ivy would agree with her idea.

She and Gray cleaned up the lunch. As they washed and dried the dishes, she stole some kisses. "I think he likes you."

"Am I good enough for his daughter? He loves you."

"I know."

Philip had pulled the anchor and they set off around the island. Once going straight, he asked Gray if he wanted a sailing lesson. Gray joined him, as Doyle watched. They looked serious while they talked. She didn't dare go listen for fear the conversation would disappoint her.

When they reached the marina, Doyle looked at her father. "Daddy?"

"You know I can't control your mother. I like him. He understands me."

She looked at Gray. "Gray?"

He put his arm around her. "It's fine. We'll talk about it okay."

Philip said, "Come on, you said you were tired."

She looked at Gray, who said, "Go home and rest. We can talk later."

When the car came, Gray didn't get in. "I'm going over to Whitby to see Monty." He kissed her forehead. "Trust me, K."

She wanted to, but she didn't trust her father.

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