On a mission to save her mother from an internet relationship gone too far, Angela Cannon secretly takes a last minute honeymoon cruise alone. What she needs now is a plan, and Devon Miller seems to be the perfect answer. Except, what’s a girl to do when an unexpected connection takes complicated to a whole new level?
"A feel-good escape that will have you laughing and looking for the next book!" Roxanne St. Claire New York Times bestselling author on Honeymoon for One.
More books in the Honeymoon Series:
Honeymoon for One
Honeymoon for Three
Honeymoon for Four
Other Series by USA Today Bestselling author Chris Keniston:
Hart Land Lakeside Inn
Aloha Series Beach Read Edition
Release date: May 26, 2021
Publisher: Indie House Publishing
* BingeBooks earns revenue from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate as well as from other retail partners.
Honeymoon for Four
“What you really need is a man.”
If Angie Cannon had a nickel for every time her friend Pam had told her that, she could afford to buy all the houses on her block. “I know you and Gil are happy as the proverbial clam, but I prefer solving my problems on my own. A man isn’t the answer.”
“It could be if you find the right one.” If anyone could be considered an expert on that point, it would be Pam. The tall, attractive, and always colorfully dressed redhead had married her first love and first husband for the second time two years ago. In between, she’d gone through three more husbands and one fiancé before finding her happily ever after.
“What I need is a roommate. That would offset the surprise expenses.” When her dishwasher had exploded unexpectedly last year in a rather bitter winter freeze, she’d been able to make do washing dishes by hand until she was comfortable springing for the seriously quiet dishwasher she wanted. Waiting for her budget to be happy wasn’t an option with her water heater. Cold showers and she would never be friends. “Too bad I don’t have a sister. Then I could do like the Ummarinos next door.”
Pam shrugged. “You and your mom seem to spend a good deal of time together, especially since your dad passed on. Heaven knows, you guys get along better than any mother and daughter I know.”
“It’s not hard. Mom has always been my friend too.”
“I know. And normally I would never suggest inviting your mother to live with you since it would cramp your style, but in all the years I’ve known you, the most exciting thing in your style seems to be staying up late with a favorite movie and a bag of real buttered popcorn. At least with your mom you’d have someone to talk to who can talk back.”
Angie shook her head. “I offered right after Dad passed. She wouldn’t hear of it.” Besides, she wasn’t about to tell Pam that she and her mother sounded like a broken record when it came to reminding Angie that she needed to get out more, needed to meet people, needed to not work so many hours, needed to stop being married to her job. Though somehow she had always thought moving up the corporate ladder would provide security for her old age. She just hadn’t thought how fast the years would go by, or how much more difficult finding the perfect man for her—if there was such a thing—would be with each of those passing years.
The doorbell rang at the same time the knob turned and the heavy wooden front door flung open.
“I spoke to Uncle Tony. He’s agreed to give you the family discount. There just might be one small catch.” Mina, Angie’s next-door neighbor and the oldest of three sisters who had bought her friend Michelle’s old house, came to a screeching halt. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have barged in.”
“I knew you were coming back, it’s fine.” Angie waved off her neighbor’s embarrassment, and gestured toward Pam. “You remember my friend, Pam.”
“That’s right.” Mina extended her hand. “Your husband was the one who helps hang Angie’s Christmas lights.”
Pam grinned and nodded. “Just one of the things he’s good at.”
Angie managed to avoid shaking her head, but she couldn’t resist a slight eye roll.
On the other hand, Mina seemed to take Pam’s innuendo in stride without skipping a beat. “I don’t know about anything else, but even my father gave his nod of approval to your husband’s work. And trust me, Vito Ummarino does not give praise easily.” Mina twisted her wrist in an upward gesture. “Unless, of course, you’re Italian, then you can do no wrong.”
“On that note,” holding up the massive lobster pot, Pam stepped around Angie and her neighbor, “I had better get home. When I left my husband and his college buddy, they were already holding lobster races. They could all be halfway to Nebraska by now.”
“Enjoy.” Angie gave her friend a hug and closed the door quietly behind her.
Mina stuck her hand out, holding the sheet of paper. “The nice thing about a really big Italian family is that there’s always a relative around who can fix something broken. The downside is even when nothing is broken, there’s still always a relative around.”
“Thank you. I’ve been so focused on paying this house off early that I didn’t leave enough emergency funds for back to back breakdowns.”
“Um.” Mina nibbled lightly on the corner of her lower lip. “I should warn you, though.”
Angie glanced up from the paper in her hand.
“Uncle Vito is a really good plumber. He considers Angela an Italian name, which in his book already made you like family.”
“I sense a but coming.”
“More of a heads up. My cousin Giovanni is happily single, but my uncle Vito doesn’t think there is such a thing. So he might try to do a little… matchmaking.”
Mina shrugged. “Could be anything from hoodwinking my cousin the accountant into helping his father install the water heater, to inviting you over for Sunday dinner.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.” Still, the look on Mina’s face made her nervous.
“Do you remember that movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding?”
“Well,” Mina shrugged again, “that’s my family, only we’re Italian. If you don’t mind them imbedded in your life from time to time, and can ignore the fact that half the famiglia is named either Anthony, Tony, Antonio or Antoinette, it’s not so bad. But the discount should be worth it.”
“Sounds like a plan. Thanks again.”
“Any time. And if you don’t have any plans later, my mom’s dropping off a baked ziti. Apparently she doesn’t think that she taught the three of us how to cook, and it’s always enough food to feed a Marine battalion. We don’t mind sharing the calories.”
Angie chuckled. She doubted the three sisters had any idea what homemade Italian cooking did to the waistline of a woman over thirty. On the other hand, depending on the outcome from uncle Vito and cousin Giovanni, a little comfort food by dinnertime might come in handy. “I’ll let you know.”
With a wave, Mina was out the door and darting across the lawn, and Angie’s phone was sounding off the ringtone assigned to her mother. “Hi Mom.”
“Hey sweetie. How’s your day going?”
“Water heater gave up the ghost.”
“Oh, honey. At least you’re done.”
“They say everything comes in threes. Your dishwasher, your spare tire, and now the water heater. You’re done. The rest of the year should be easy.”
Her mom had to remind her that after finding her tire flat as a pancake the other morning, she soon discovered the spare was no help. Both tires had to be replaced. Hopefully her mother was right, because Pam could do with a worry-free rest of the year. “What’s cooking on your end?”
“Well,” her mom’s tone perked up, “I decided to make a change.”
Angie wasn’t all too sure she liked the sound of that. “Really? What kind of change?”
“I’m taking a vacation.”
Relief whooshed through her. For as long as Angie could remember, Julia Cannon was a sweet and warmhearted woman to anyone who met her. For Angie, her mom had been her first best friend, her number one cheerleader, and her shoulder to cry on when life didn’t seem quite fair. Everything good and fun about life, Angie had learned from her mom. Except, since Angie’s dad died, her mom had become a bit of a homebody. The last few weeks, something had been off. Her mother had been less chatty, and a little busier than usual. Not that that was a bad thing. Angie wanted her mom to have a full life, she just couldn’t help worrying about her at least a little. Of the few close friends her mom had, only one wasn’t married and might be free to travel with her mother. “That’s nice. Who are you going with? Mabel from your canasta group?”
“No.” The extra beats of silence put the nervous knot back in Angie’s stomach. “I’m taking a cruise.”
Her mom cleared her throat. “No.”
Now the knots in Angie’s stomach were twisting like wet twine as she waited for the rest of the story her mom was slow to spit out.
“I’m getting married.”
* * *
Another hour at his desk and Devon Miller was convinced he’d be permanently cross-eyed.
“You know, if you had a wife and family, you wouldn’t spend so much time working.” Standing in the doorway, his dad blew out a soft sigh. “Seriously, it’s way past quitting time. You really should call it a day.”
As far as Dev was concerned, Raymond Miller had been the perfect father. Despite a high pressure corporate career, he’d attended every sporting event, school performance, done daily homework, participated in all the required father-son after school camping or scouting or who knows what activity, and given Devon all the support he had needed to get through college and his MBA. Both his mom and dad had ensured his childhood memories were damn near idyllic. Unfortunately, Raymond Miller the retiree had become a bit of a nag.
“Nice to see you, Pop.” His fingers unfolded from around the mouse and he closed his laptop. According to the clock on the wall, at nearly seven-thirty it was time to call it a day or he really would be cross-eyed forever. “You’re here just in time to cook a good medium rare steak at a respectable enough time to call it dinner.”
“Oh, actually I already ate.”
Dev did a double take to see if he’d misread the time. His father had always been a late supper guy.
“Let’s get out of here and take a walk.”
“A walk?” He and his dad shared a lot of things, but an evening walk wasn’t one of them. Slowly, he pushed away from the desk and straightened to his full height. His mind made a feeble attempt to process all the possibilities for what had his father looking so serious, and what would require the distraction of a walk to tell Dev about it.
“You really never should play poker.” Shaking his head, Raymond Miller led the way down the hall.
“What?” It had been a long day for Dev, but usually following his father’s train of thought wasn’t so challenging.
“I’m not dying or anything like that.” His father paused in the front doorway. “I simply wanted to talk without being interrupted by the dinging or buzzing of technology.”
Despite the reassuring health update, nothing in Dev was relaxing. The look on his dad’s face made it pretty obvious to any son with eyes that this conversation wasn’t going to be about cutting calories and skipping sugar in his coffee. But what?
The front door latched shut behind them and his father waited till they’d left the front yard behind before speaking. “It’s been a long while since your mom passed.”
Dev nodded. He’d just graduated college when his parents let him know his mother had been dealing with a cancer diagnosis. They’d known it was a losing battle for a while, but hadn’t wanted his last year of college, or his grades, tainted by worry for his mom. Even at the time, he’d doubted the extra parties and escapades had been worth missed weekends with his mother, but with time, the guilt had eased, and he’d come to understand that he would have dumped that same guilt on her every weekend if he’d come home instead of enjoying his last year. It had been a no-win situation. At least he’d been blessed with a little more time. Not enough, but more.
“And you know that I’ve been spending more time at the senior center.”
When his dad, who refused to consider himself old, had told Dev he’d started going to the senior center a few months back, Dev suspected then that it might have something to do with looking for female company. A sudden recollection from his teenage years of his dad’s serious expression and need to walk as they had talked about growing up in general, and girls in particular, flashed in Dev’s memory banks. This was the birds and the bees talk all over, except now it was probably more about his dad than controlling teenage hormones. He’d bet anything his father was looking for someone to keep company with. Or maybe had already found her. Now the whole walking thing made sense to him. His dad had a girlfriend. Though his father could have told him that on the living room sofa.
“The center has lots of things to do. New people to meet.”
Doing his best not to grin at his dad’s approach, he kept quiet and nodded.
“But not the same as doing things with your mom.”
The elation at thinking his dad had found someone new slipped away like a leaky balloon.
“A couple of weeks ago I signed up for one of those online things.”
“Things?” Good grief. Was his dad doing online dating?
“You know. Meeting people with the same interests as you.”
Yeah, Dev knew. Once upon a time his friend Pete had convinced him he was too young to be working so hard and dating so infrequently, so he let himself be talked into trying one of those dating apps. He’d met a few nice women, no one special, and a few with a screw or two loose. A sense of discomfort crept up his spine. At his father’s age, cyberspace was filled with scammers and gold-diggers waiting for a kind old soul like his dad to take advantage of.
“I met someone.”
And there it was. Now the question at hand was how to casually vet this new friend without insulting his father. “I’m guessing you like her?”
His father’s face brightened as he nodded.
That smile on his dad’s face had been a long time coming. Suddenly, Dev realized just how much was at stake, and he prayed this really was a sweet older woman looking for a partner and not a way to siphon his dad’s savings.
Without breaking step, his dad cast a sideways grin at his son. “You’d like her too, I think.”
“Great.” Dev needed to give this gal the benefit of the doubt. Why borrow trouble until there were signs of something amiss. “When do I get to meet her?”
His father’s hand wound behind his neck. “Well, that’s the problem.”
“Problem?” Was that the first sign? This talk with his dad felt like a ride on a rollercoaster, never knowing when the next dip would send his suspicions flying into high gear.
“You see, I’m taking a little vacation.”
Dev nodded again, waiting for the next shoe to drop, after all, he doubted his dad planned to take this little vacation alone. Assuming the new woman was real and not a man named Mary in some hard to pronounce foreign country.
“A cruise, actually.”
“Cruise?” Interesting choice for a man who claimed not to like the beach.
His dad nodded and reaching the corner, turned around to walk back toward Dev’s house. “I’m almost all packed. Flying to Florida tomorrow. The ship sails the next day.”
“That’s pretty fast.” Dev kept his hands in his pockets and his thoughts on the facts. “How long will you be gone?”
“Two weeks.” His dad stared ahead. Lips pressed tightly together, he seemed to be struggling with words.
Maybe Dev should give his father a little help. “This new friend going with you?”
His father seemed to lose some of the tension in his shoulders. “Yes, as a matter of fact.”
If it was at all possible, this conversation was even more awkward than the one Dev remembered from junior high.
“I know she and I haven’t known each other long,” his father continued, “but at our age, you can’t really waste any time when you’ve found the right one.”
Dev was reaching a point in his life where he understood not wanting to waste time, but something wasn’t sitting right. “How long have you known her?”
“Bout two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” Dev snapped his mouth shut in an effort to hide his surprise. Even if this person was real, and not a scammer from some godforsaken country, two weeks wasn’t long enough for anyone to sail off into the sunset.
“I suppose without these newfangled video calls, we wouldn’t have made up our minds so fast.” His dad’s hand hooked around his neck again. “I mean, heaven knows that plenty of my courting your mother took place over the phone, but this video phone thing is much different.”
“It is.” What more could Dev say? At least it seemed with a face to a name, he could rule out a man from overseas. And what right did he have to pour cold water on his dad’s good mood? What harm would a little trip with a woman do? It wasn’t like Dev had never gotten friendly fast with some of the women in his own past.
Back at the front door, his father came to a stop. Straightening his shoulders and lifting his chin, he took in a big deep breath and pulled a black velvet ring box from his pocket. Shaky fingers flipped it open.
The sparkling gem almost blinded Dev. His mother would never have been caught dead in a rock that size. It must have set his father back a pretty penny. “Don’t you think that’s a little overkill to give a ring like that to a woman you’ve only known a couple of weeks?
“This woman is special. She deserves the best.”
Score one for a gold-digger.
“Besides, this trip is...” Raymond Miller cleared his throat. “Uh…themed.”
“You mean like Everything Elvis, or Great Gatsby?”
His father closed the lid and slipped it back into his pocket. “It’s a destination wedding cruise.”
“She is out of her ever loving mind.” Angie paced in Mina’s kitchen and stared down at her cell phone. “Two weeks. Who marries a man they’ve only known two weeks? And via screen time, no less.”
“They’ve never actually met in person. He could be anybody. A fugitive. An ex-con. A wife beater. Maybe he’s one of those human traffickers?”
“Okay.” Mina sat her friend down at the kitchen table. “Calm down before you have a heart attack or something.”
“Here.” Ginny, the middle sister, handed her a glass of red wine. “Take a sip. It’ll do your blood pressure good.”
There was no taking a sip. The glass made it halfway to Angie’s lips when the overwhelming aroma of strong alcohol almost made her teary-eyed. “What is this?”
“Chianti. It’s Papa’s solution to good health and steady nerves.”
“I think I’ll pass.” Red wines weren’t her favorite, but this one seemed strong enough to knock an elephant off his game. She set the glass down beside her and muttered two weeks to herself for the umpteenth time since talking to her mother.
“It’s the never met in person part that worries me more than the two weeks.” Jo, the youngest of the three sisters, sat at the table, her laptop open. “Which cruise line is it again?”
“She didn’t say. But it sails from Florida day after tomorrow and it’s a wedding themed cruise. She actually had the nerve to tell me guests weren’t allowed. Some malarkey about too many people.”
“Got it!” Jo did a fist pump. “A two week cruise for the wedding package. First seven days are on board as a bachelor and bachelorette send off, and then the next seven are the honeymoon portion with mostly moonlit nights at sea and one stop on the cruise line’s private island for a day of frolicking in the sun.”
“Frolicking in the sun?” Mina asked.
“Hey,” Jo waved her hand in a very broad gesture, “their words, not mine.”
“What I don’t get is why are you here in our kitchen instead of at your mother’s talking some sense into her?” Ginnie seemed to be the most practical of the three siblings.
“Because she isn’t home from shopping—yet—I drove by to check before walking over here. Her car was gone and the lights were all out.” Angie blew out a slow breath and averted her eyes to hide how embarrassed she felt. She’d made the short fifteen minute drive not once, but twice.
“Could the car have been in the garage?”
Angie shook her head. “A car hasn’t fit in that garage since my high school graduation.”
“Okay.” Ginnie, plopped onto the seat beside her and shoved a dish of cookies at her. “So now what do we do?”
The glass beside her, Angie ran a finger along the rim. “I have to find a way to talk some sense into her.”
“Well.” Mina raised both her arms in a preacher-like movement. Angie had grown used to all the talking with hands these sisters did. “You’ve got one night till she boards that plane. Not a lot of time.”
“Mina’s right.” Ginnie nodded. “You need more time.”
Jo looked up. “Can you keep her from catching the flight?”
“Probably, but only one flight. There are flights to port cities almost every blasted hour on cruise days.”
“Yeah, that won’t work.” Mina shook her head. “But maybe if you had her undivided attention for the three hour plus flight, perhaps you could talk some sense into her.”
“I doubt it.” She lifted the wine glass and stared, she’d rather have a mild white wine. Strong drinks and her did not mix well. As much as she both loved and regretted drinking all those deceivingly delicious Heavenly Haze’s when they were in Santo Domingo for Pam’s wedding and Angie’s one and only cruise, she also knew diet cola wasn’t going to sooth her frazzled nerves. This was serious. Resisting the urge to hold her nose, she dared a sip of the dark wine. Felt it burn all the way down to her toes and then, smacking her lips, bobbed her head. “Not bad.”
Jo laughed. “No. Chianti can be an acquired taste for some. Our father watered it down and added sugar when we were young. But we can all hold our liquor.”
Too bad Angie couldn’t say the same thing. Already feeling a tad more relaxed, she still had a problem to solve. “I spent over an hour on the phone with her before she insisted she needed to run out for a few more last minute things, and I finally agreed to take her to the airport in the morning. Now she’s not answering the phone.”
“And not home.” Mina looked to her sisters and out the window a second before facing Angie. “Looks to me like the only thing you can do is plan B.”
“Plan B?” She didn’t even have a plan A.
“How’s your credit?” Jo asked.
Jo nodded. “Not all passengers are part of the destination wedding and honeymoon package. This line cuts off bookings twenty-four hours before sailing. That leaves you nineteen hours to make up your mind and pull out your credit card.”
“You want me to take a honeymoon cruise?” Had the girls been sipping the Chianti before she’d stormed in the back door ranting about her crazy mother?
Jo nodded. “That’ll give you seven days to size up the groom and convince the bride that this is not a good idea.”
“How much is it?” Mina looked over her sister’s shoulder. “Oh, that’s not too bad.”
“If there are rooms left on the ship, last minute bookings can be real bargains.”
“And you know this how?” Ginnie narrowed her gaze at her little sister.
Again, hands waved forcefully in the air. “Duh, the computer age. Do you live under a rock? The concept can’t possibly be anything new to you.”
“I suppose.” Ginnie leaned back in her seat and faced Angie. “She may have a point. If you’re willing?”
Following her mother on the cruise was insane. Ludicrous. Not in the budget.
“Yes or no?” Jo asked. “Do we book it?”
“What will I do? How will I stop her?”
“We have faith in you,” Mina smiled.
Faith. Angie sighed. Maybe inspiration would strike when she got on the ship. She couldn’t do nothing. This might be her only chance to save her mother from some unsavory fate and winding up on one of those late night missing person shows. She’d just have to think of something. “Book it.”
* * *
“Pop, how much do you really know about this woman?” Dev had gone around in circles with his dad for most of the night.
“Look.” Raymond Miller stood as tall as Dev and his dark hair had gone salt and pepper at a young age. A fate Dev had escaped by inheriting his mother’s sandy hair. Shaking his head, his father zipped the suitcase and turned to face his son. “It’s late. I’m tired. I agreed it made sense for you to sleep here tonight so you wouldn’t have to drive over and pick me up at zero-dark-thirty in the morning to catch the first flight of the day. I’m sorry the organizers aren’t allowing guests but you’ll meet when we return, and as soon as we find a new house, we’ll even have you over for dinner—”
“Yes. You don’t think I’m going to move her into your mother’s house, do you?”
“I guess not.”
“I thought something in Highland Park might be nice.”
“Highland Park? Pop, that’s some of the most expensive real estate in the county.”
“You don’t think we deserve to live some place nice?”
This was not going the way he wanted. Hooking his hand around his neck, he sucked in a long breath. “Look, Pop, doesn’t it strike you as odd that this woman needs expensive jewelry and houses? This is exactly why rushing is not—”
“Stop. It’s late and I’m tired. If you plan to nag me all night long—”
“No, Pop. It’s just, marriage seems so…permanent.”
“At my age everything seems permanent.”
“You’re not that old.”
“No, and I’m not that young either.” Raymond shoved the bag to the side of the night stand. “You know I loved your mother more than life itself.”
“I know, Pop.”
“This is not in any way a reflection of my feelings for her.”
“Of course not.” Truth was, Dev had hoped for years now that his father would find someone to keep him company. Just not someone he knew so little about. His dad lived a very low-key life, but a man didn’t climb the corporate ladder as high as his father had without creating a more than comfortable portfolio. If someone wanted to go hunting, there would be plenty to take and leave his father high and dry.
“Then it’s settled. I could have thirty more years in me or I could have thirty minutes. No sense in wasting time.” His father shot him one of those pointed glares from Dev’s childhood and he knew there was no point in continuing this discussion. “I’d like to get some sleep now.”
Dev nodded and took a step back. “Love you, Pop.”
His father’s stern stance eased. “I love you too.”
The bedroom door shut behind his father, Dev wandered into the kitchen. He wasn’t quite ready to go to bed and spend the night tossing and turning. One thing he couldn’t fault his father for was failure to stock the fridge. Granted, Raymond Miller wasn’t the cook his mother once was, but there was no fear of going hungry. Choosing the sourdough bread that had no doubt been bought at the local Saturday morning farmer’s market, Dev loaded the slices with cold cuts and grabbed a beer, then doubled back for a bag of chips. Deciphering this dilemma required plenty of fuel.
Foregoing the kitchen table, he made his way to the den, flopped into his father’s broken in recliner, and flipped on the television. The first bite of the sandwich satisfied his rumbling stomach instantly. He really should make time to hit the market himself on Saturday mornings. There was no comparing fresh baked bread to manufactured loaves. It wouldn’t kill him to skip a few take outs and cook a meal himself. His mom had taught him more than a thing or two about cooking, promising some day he’d make a woman very happy. Halfway through the sandwich, he grew tired of the World War II movie and settled on a rerun of The Big Bang Theory. The lead character Sheldon reminded him of his roommate freshman year of college. Too smart and serious for his own good, and only fifteen years old at the time.
He’d made another sandwich and tore through two more bags of chips, going for a third, before the flyer on the side of the refrigerator caught his eye. How had he missed that? The massive ship sketched in blue and red should have stuck out like a sore thumb on the all white appliance. Pulling the sheet off the fridge, he walked back to the recliner, carefully reading the advertisement. Everything lined up. The sail date. The wedding theme. Bachelor and Bachelorette schedules followed by honeymoon romance. All totaling fourteen days.
He sank into the most comfortable seat in the room again, reading the fine print. There was a lot more to this cruise than his father had mentioned. Daily excursions. Evening parties. Planned get togethers from couple’s massages and spa days to dance lessons and cooking classes. Plenty of bonding time before the big day. And hopefully plenty of time to realize what a colossal mistake getting married would be.
Ship to shore calls were no longer the expensive and complicated thing of just a decade ago. Internet plans covered cell phone usage and a passenger could stay as in touch with the outside world as he or she wanted to. Or, more likely, as out of touch as his father probably preferred. Blast.
Another glance at the now empty fridge and a crazy thought exploded. Could it be? Was it possible? He pulled his phone from his pocket and in only a few swipes his crazy idea was confirmed. A few more strokes and the crazy idea was a done deal. According to the timestamp on his phone this was no time to call his boss, but he knew for a fact the man shut his phone off when he went to bed and didn’t turn it on till morning. A few well chosen words and the text was ready to hit send.
Family emergency. Need a couple of weeks off. Catching flight out of town tomorrow night. Will bring work computer and check in.
He was going to have a bunch of really ticked off clients, but on the bright side, there were plenty of associates to cover for him. Competent associates. Even if they weren’t, this was his dad’s future. His old age. His happiness. The whole idea was a no brainer. At least Dev hoped so. Finger hovering over the screen, he sucked in a deep breath and tapped SEND. He had no idea under the Caribbean sun how he was going to do it, but like it or not, he was going to save his father from himself.
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