Ethan pulled the oar from the water and let it rest across his knee. The small kayak sliced through the clear blue water for a few feet then drifted to a slow stop and gently bobbed on the surface. The sun was already warm even though it was still early, the heat not as bad as it could be because of the gentle breeze.

Ethan didn't care about the sun or the heat or the beautiful expanse of water surrounding them. All he cared about was the woman sitting in front of him, her back slightly stiff as her hands curled around the sides of the kayak. The breeze played with her blonde hair, lifting the ends of it around her neck and shoulders. She raised a hand, reached up and pushed a few strands behind her ear, made a small sound of frustration when the hair fell back around her face.

Ethan kept waiting for the dream to end. This had to be a dream, right? He still couldn't believe Cindy was here with him. And that she was actually with him, that last night had actually happened. But she was, and it did. More than once.

He'd thought a lot about what it would be like to make love to her in the time they'd known each other. Not once had he ever imagined it would ever happen. Fantasized, yes, but that was it. They were friends, nothing more. And he'd been content with that, had hoped spending the last two months at home, away from her, would give him time to forget about the pull she had on him—a pull she didn't even know she had.

Yeah, right. Who was he kidding? Content? Not even. It had been seven months of frustration and agony, being close to her without ever getting close to her. And then last night had happened. Content? No, content had been waking up next to her in his bed this morning, her body warm and relaxed against his. Content was being with her now, doing nothing but sitting in the rented kayak in the middle of the crystal waters of the Caribbean.

She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled, the action almost tentative and shy. He couldn't see her eyes behind the large sunglasses she wore and suddenly wished he could. What was she thinking? Feeling? Not regret. At least, he hoped to hell not. She wouldn't be here with him now if she was regretting last night, right?

"I think I could get used to this."

Ethan's heart thudded in his chest, excitement running through him at the words. Then she kept talking and he had to swallow back the excitement, had to remind himself not to read into things.

"It's so beautiful here. Peaceful, you know? Like the rest of the world doesn't exist."

She was talking about the island. Of course she was. Ethan tried to grin as he looked off to the side, hoping she didn't sense his disappointment. "It is nice. I understand what they mean about island time now."

"Yeah. Too bad I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Ethan turned back around, not bothering to hide his surprise. "Why tomorrow?"

"Because that's when I made my flight for."

"You should change it. Stay the rest of the week. We can play tourist."

"I wish I could but that would probably cost a fortune."

"I'll pay for it." And shit. As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they were a mistake. Cindy's back stiffened and she shook her head. She turned away but not before he noticed the way her mouth tightened. Disappointment? Anger? Something else?

He dipped the oar into the water, pulled back with one long stroke and moved them forward. "I didn't mean it however you're taking it. I just meant—" His voice drifted off, his mind searching for the right words. "You can pay me back, if that makes you feel any better. That's what friends do, right?"

She tilted her head, not quite looking at him. "Friends?"

And shit. Was that the wrong thing to say? If it was, he didn't care. They were still friends. Hopefully more than friends, but still friends. "Yeah. Friends."

"Hm. We'll see."

Should he drop it? Probably. But he wanted her to stay, wanted to spend the rest of the week with her. "Do you have a passport?"

"Yeah. I wasn't sure if I'd need it or not. Why?"

"Well, if you stay, we can take a boat ride over to Jost Van Dyke tomorrow."

"Why would I need a passport for that?"

"Because it's part of the British Virgin Islands."

"Oh." She shifted on the small seat, rocking the kayak a little. "What's over there?"

"Some bar everyone was talking about. The Soggy Dollar Bar."

"The Soggy Dollar?"

Ethan grinned. "Yeah. Apparently you have to swim to shore to reach it."

"You're making that up!"

"No, I'm not. That's why they call it the Soggy Dollar: because everyone's money is wet when they get there."

Cindy laughed, the sound as clear as the sky around them. She relaxed against the seat, some of the tension leaving her, easing the strain he had noticed earlier around her mouth. She leaned forward and grabbed two bottles of water from the small cooler sitting between them. She tossed one to him then uncapped her own and took a long swallow. A frown creased her face as she looked around them.

"Do you think it would be expensive?"

"The bar? I doubt it."

"Not the bar. Changing my flight."

"It doesn't matter—"

"Yes, it does. Not everyone is loaded like you."

"Stop being stubborn and let me cover it. Like I said, you can pay me back."

Cindy shifted on the small seat once more, studying him. He wondered what she was thinking and wished he could see her eyes. It wasn't like he could ask her to take the sunglasses off, no matter how much he wanted her to.

She finally sighed and turned away. "It doesn't matter. Even if I could change the flight, I don't have a place to stay because I'm supposed to check out tomorrow."

He snorted. The sound left him before he could stop it. Coming from anyone else, he'd take the words as a thinly-veiled attempt at getting an invitation issued. But this wasn't anyone else, it was Cindy. And if she wanted an invitation, she'd come right out and ask.

He ignored the brief surge of disappointment that she hadn't. And he ignored the doubt that maybe she didn't want to stay with him. Ridiculous. Even if last night hadn't happened, she should still know she was always welcome to stay with him.

He dipped the oar in the water then flicked his wrist, sending a small spray through the air in her direction. She gasped, her shoulder hunching around her ears as the water sprayed across her head and back.

She ran a hand through her hair then turned in the seat, her mouth hanging open. "What was that for?"

"For being stupid. You know you can stay with me. Even if last night hadn't—" He bit back the words, heat filling his face. Would she notice? Maybe she'd think it was nothing more than sunburn. "You've crashed at my place before. Not a big deal."

Her mouth snapped closed as another frown crossed her flushed face. This one was more thoughtful and again, Ethan wished he could see her eyes, wished he knew what she was thinking.

"Yeah. About that."

And shit. Why the hell had he said anything? He should have never brought up last night, should have just let it go. Or he should have waited until he had a better idea of what she thought. There hadn't been any awkward morning-after vibes but that didn't mean she wanted a repeat. Maybe she hadn't meant for it to happen in the first place, maybe she wanted to pretend it didn't happen.

If he were smart, he'd change the subject. Fast. Find something else to talk about, find something to distract her. But his mind was annoyingly blank, his brain moving too slow to fill the silence before she spoke again.

"Maybe I don't want to just crash."

And whoa, okay. Maybe it was a good thing his brain had been sluggish. Unless he was reading into things. Was he?

Ethan pushed the sunglasses on top of his head, letting her get a clear look at his eyes—and at the intent in them. "Maybe I don't want you to just crash, either."

His words hung between them, heavy with meaning. Was it the wrong thing to say? Maybe he'd read too much into her words wrong and just shot himself in the foot. What if he just screwed everything up?

He waited, barely daring to breathe, watching her face for a sign of…something. The seconds dragged between them, slow and heavy. Disappointment filled him when Cindy finally took a deep breath and looked away. Shit, he'd screwed things up. Now he had to find a way to fix it.

But Cindy turned back and pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. The green of her eyes seemed deeper, maybe even a little brighter as she watched him. Then she smiled, a bright smile that sent warmth rushing through him.

"Then that's a good thing." Her smile faltered for just a second, confusion filling her face. "Isn't it?"

"I think it is, yeah."

"Okay." She nodded, almost like she was trying to convince herself. "Good. But I'm paying you back."

"You don't have to—"

"How deep do you think it is here?"

The sudden change startled him and he looked around, wondering if maybe he had missed something. He glanced into the water then shrugged. "I have no idea. We're not too far from shore and you can still see the bottom. Maybe ten or fifteen feet? I think. Why?"

"Just wondering." She smiled again, this time with a hint of mischief that made him sit up straighter. "You can swim, right?"

"Of course I can swim—"

He never got a chance to finish because Cindy suddenly laughed and stood up, rocking the small kayak back and forth. Ethan grabbed the side, ready to ask her what she was doing. He didn't need to ask, not when it was obvious.

"Last one in buys drinks tonight." Cindy threw the dare at him just before sticking her tongue out and diving over the side. Except the kayak wasn't designed as a diving board. The right side dipped close to the water as Cindy jumped. Ethan's balance was thrown off and he leaned into the dip instead of away from it.

The kayak dipped further to the side, suspended for one long second. Ethan heard Cindy laugh, had enough time to glance at her and open his mouth to say something. Then the kayak continued its roll and dumped him into the water, Cindy's laughter following him as he went under.