He’d pretty much left her standing there like a fool last night, Emily thought as she waited for Tom the next morning, feeling nervous and twitchy.

After he’d left, she’d felt drained. She’d come back to her room and felt fine physically. She had a bit of a headache but was keyed up. She’d ended up changing and taking a stroll on the boardwalk, on the other side away from the wedding and the dancing still happening. The walk hadn’t cleared her head like she’d hoped. All she could do was recount all the stuff she’d tried to forget, all the times growing up with Tom. Which was pretty much everything. When she’d finally dropped into bed last night, she’d gone to sleep thinking about how wonderful it’d felt to kiss him again.

A knock broke the silence, and she jumped from where she stood gazing out the window. She picked up her bag, which held sunscreen and a towel and a credit card, and she threw the door back.

What she found was a very angry Tom. “First of all,” he said, stepping into the hotel room.

She stumbled back but caught herself.

He closed the door behind him. “I can visit whoever I want anytime I want. Even if that person makes me crave you.”

Her heart was beating out of control, and she noticed the vein in his head was sticking out a bit. This was bad.

“Second of all,” he said, sticking up two fingers into the air, “why would I want to see you with your boyfriend?” He said the last word like he wanted to spit it to the ground. “I wanted to marry you once, Ems. Marry you. Why would I want to pretend for a night, with a boyfriend by your side, that it’s not killing me to see you with him and—” He broke off and sucked in a huge breath, glaring at her. “That would have been stupid. It was stupid for you to even reach out to me.”

“So we weren’t friends before we were everything else?”

Shock washed over his face. “No. I mean, yes, but …”

She stepped to him and poked a finger to his chest. “Then why can’t we be friends?”

Slowly, he looked down at her hand.

As if burned, she tugged her hand back.

Then he looked up at her, unamused. “Because I don’t need you as a friend. I don’t want you as a friend.” Before she knew what happened, he closed the gap between them, reached out, and took her face into his hands, but he didn’t kiss her.

All the chemistry between them lit her on fire.

“Dang you, woman!” He abruptly let her go.

Fire. Passion. Desire. It all erupted inside of her like a volcano exploding and not giving scientists time to let the village people know about the eruption. She stepped back, bracing herself against the bed frame. “Dang me?”

“Yeah?” He looked wild.

“Dang you!” She closed the gap between them. “Kiss me!”

He looked appalled. “What are you doing?”

She threw her hands into the air. “Do you know how it was for me last night after you ran off?”

He just stared at her, but she could see him relenting.

“Just kiss me, Tom.” Yes, all she wanted to feel was him against her.

Not waiting, he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. The strength of Tom Kent’s muscles were rock solid as he kissed her.

She found herself reacting to him, putting her hand on his shoulder, feeling a different sensation than when they’d been kids. Back then, she’d loved kissing him. Now, he took her breath away.

This grown-up version was intense! She kissed him back and found her hands in his hair, on his face. His hands pulled her harder against him, and she was flying out of control. She couldn’t get enough of him.

Gradually, he loosened his grip just a bit, and she was pretty sure she would have fallen without his continued support. His gaze was intense. “I’m not repeating graduation night.” He let her go, running a hand through his hair. “Just know that no matter what happens, I would walk through the fires of hell with no turnouts before I would sit through dinner with you and a boyfriend.”

Her heartbeat ratcheted up a notch in her chest. “Okay.”

Tom kissed her one last time. “Okay. Then that’s that.” He looked at his watch. “We have to go. The photographer is meeting us there in twenty minutes.”

When they pulled up to the dock for the snorkel cruise, the first thing they noticed a guy with a hat on his head and a camera around his neck.

“So do you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend or what?” Emily felt a bit nervous and edgy. They hadn’t spoken the whole way here, and the whole time, she’d only been able to imagine what her life would have been like if she’d married Tom. Maybe she’d be living in Park City. Could she? No, that was insane. She was about to make junior partner. That would be a stupid career move.

“Girlfriend was the deal,” he said, rubbing the center of his palm with his other hand, his ice-blue eyes meeting hers.

Her heart raced. “That was the deal,” she agreed.

The photographer looked Italian and wore a goatee and sunglasses and a Hawaiian shirt and swim shorts. He introduced himself as Stan and said he would just be taking pictures before the cruise. “I don’t like to get in the way.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t really like puff pieces, to tell you the truth,” he said, pulling a toothpick out of his mouth. “But what can I say? On the island, I take the work that comes my way. I’ll also be taking some pictures before you go parasailing tomorrow.”

Tom nodded.

Stan held up his hand. “Do you want to give me some shirtless pictures for some extra dough?”

“No.”

“Like a lot of dough.” Stan shrugged. “What can I say? Naked Tom Kent chest sells.”

Tom scoffed. “I made that mistake once. I said no.”

Stan used the toothpick to motion back and forth between them. “Fine, suit yourself. Just so you know, I’ll be doing a brief write-up. What’s your relationship?”

Tom took her hand.

“We’re together,” Emily blurted out, but it sounded fake to her own ears.

The guy pulled out a small pad of paper and pencil, and Emily thought he clearly wasn’t into technology.

“Girlfriend.” Tom smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“And you came on the trip with him because …” Stan waited.

She and Tom glanced at each other, and she didn’t know what to say.

The guy looked her up and down. “Hey, I keep up on the Kents, and I haven’t seen you before.”

Emily opted for the truth. “We dated when we were kids.” She turned to Tom, who stared into her eyes as if searching for the truth. She kissed his cheek.

The guy dropped his notepad and reached for his camera. “Hold on. Do that again.”

Tom’s eyes met hers, and the chemistry sizzled between them.

She thought of all the things he’d said to her about not wanting friendship. Her heart softened as she realized what it must have cost him to visit her mother. Immensely self-conscious, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him gently on the cheek again. His cologne wafted over her. Then his arm was around her waist, and he searched her eyes.

Time stilled. It felt like no one else was there.

Tom leaned down and brushed his lips to hers, sending fire sizzling through her. Pulling back, he turned and looked toward Stan. “Smile,” he said, attempting to follow his own advice.

The camera was clicking like crazy. Emily pasted on her own smile, thinking about how she’d thought doing two days of excursions would be easy.

“I’m not giving up on second chances, Ems. Just so we’re clear.”

What did that mean? She searched his eyes. She didn’t know what was going to happen, but she did know that being with Tom Kent for the next two days just might break her completely.