Emily didn’t protest when Tom took her hand and quickly pulled her down the aisle, then along the main red carpet. She rushed with Tom as they searched for a bathroom. Unfortunately, the closest bathroom was at the end of the carpet. In her nauseated state, Emily wasn’t fast enough.

Tom picked her up and booked it. “Hold on, Ems. I got ya.”

The urge to barf was right there, but Emily prayed she would make it, closing her eyes.

There was a thud, and Emily opened her eyes to see Tom kicking in the door to the women’s bathroom. Quickly, he put her down. She didn’t have time to do anything but skitter to the first stall before it all came back up.

Not that there was much. She’d only had toast for breakfast and a salad for lunch, but whatever remnants were in her stomach now splattered all over.

Tom’s hands pulled her hair back. “It’s okay.” The smell of his aftershave was a fresh and a welcome distraction.

Why was she noticing this? “Please go.” She coughed.

“No.”

She didn’t have time to complain, because the next round hit her. She bent lower into the toilet, hating this. Hating that she was barfing, hating that it was so humiliating, hating that Tom was here helping her and she couldn’t even talk to tell him to leave.

As she pulled back, Tom held out a stack of toilet paper for her. She wiped her mouth, bracing herself with the other hand on the stall. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tom said. “I’ve seen you barf plenty of times.”

She flushed the toilet, looking down at her dress. She found that, surprisingly, there was nothing on it. “This is disgusting.”

Tom nodded and let go of her hair, moving out of the stall. “I think you’re okay now, Ems. I’ll wait outside.”

She did feel fine, she realized. Following him out of the stall, she went straight for the sink as Tom disappeared out of the bathroom. The sound of the pools and the kids playing and glasses tinkling floated through the air before the door swung shut.

Relief washed through her as she stared at herself in the mirror. At least it wasn’t in her hair. She had Tom to thank for that. Also, it wasn’t all over her dress. It would have been totally humiliating to throw up in front of the entire who’s who of the firm.

She rinsed her mouth and wished for some mouthwash. Alas, she had to settle for pushing her hair back into place. Maybe she could still do the rest of this night.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Tom was standing on the line between the carpet and the beach, staring out at the little bit of sunset left. He wore his tux comfortably, and his hands were in his pockets. He couldn’t see her yet, so she took a moment to observe him. She marveled at his blond hair. All the Kent brothers had the same blond locks. At times, when she would watch one of Grant’s movies, she would think about how closely they all resembled each other, but to her, Tom was even better-looking.

Farther off, people were already getting seated at the tables. She saw the boat on the dock with Mr. Owens and Alice walking toward the tent. She really didn’t want to put on a show right now.

“Are you okay?” Tom stepped closer to her, eyeing her up and down like a doctor would look at a patient.

“Fine,” she lied.

“What happened with that guy?”

Emily sighed, knowing Tom had noticed and she couldn’t shrug this off. “The other day there was a guy I saw at Black Sand Beach and then at the ice cream place. It was the same guy that was at the wedding. I got that feeling the first time I saw him.”

“Uh-oh. Your premonitions?”

It was annoying that he knew, yet somewhat comforting. “Yeah. At first, I thought I could just leave, but he kept showing up. At the coconut ice cream place, he kept asking me where my boyfriend was.”

Tom looked around and absently pulled a piece of gum from his pocket.

“Oh my gosh, thank you.” She took the gum and slipped it into her mouth. “I saw him at the wedding and had that feeling times ten.”

“Hence the barfing.”

She shrugged. “Yeah.”

“I’m going to go talk to security.” He turned to go.

“No, please, just stay with me.”

He stopped, frowning. “I don’t like this creeper, whoever he is, running around out there.”

Meeting his blue eyes, she realized she didn’t want him to leave her. “Please, just stay with me. I need you. It could get worse. Remember third grade, Mr. Hansen’s class?”

There was a smile on his face, and she found herself laughing, thinking of how the janitor had come to clean it up.

Tom wagged a finger at her. “I saw that look, and I knew it was coming.”

She pointed back, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, back then you ran away from me, yelling, ‘She’s gonna barf, people!’”

He laughed, and she found herself remembering even more things about being little with him. Like how they’d sat by each other every day at lunch, even when someone started a humiliating rumor that they liked each other.

Tom reached out and took her hand, his face growing serious. “You barf when you’re scared, Ems, so don’t play casual with me.” He swallowed. “Go through it all again.”

She sighed. It was annoying he knew her so well on some levels. She relented and went over it all again.

“I don’t like this. We’re reporting it to security.” Tom put his arm around her, and they moved toward the security guy. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”

Twenty minutes later, they discovered that the security presence at the event was a bit lacking. It was wrapped up in the resort security, and there wasn’t really a way to track who was coming to events and who was staying at the hotel, especially because there were several events going on at the resort.

“Maybe we should go to the police,” Tom said.

It was so stupid for her to compare Tom to Brett, but she couldn’t stop herself. Tom was comforting and compassionate; Brett was a fast talker and not uncompassionate—after all, he saved lives on death row—but he wasn’t the same. What would she call him?

Tom frowned at her. “What are you thinking?”

“Umm …” Not wanting to tell him what she’d been thinking, she glanced at the tent. “I’m thinking I feel safe with you.”

A smile softened his face. “You are safe with me.” Slowly, he leaned in and brushed his lips to her forehead.

Warmth rushed through her. Not just warmth, but attraction. It felt natural to need him and for him to be here. How many times had she denied herself needing anyone else? She thought of Brett. “Sensible,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Ems, tell me what you’re thinking. If you’re having one of your premonitions, I need to know about it.”

“I’m not,” she said quickly.

“Then what?”

Reluctantly, she told him the truth. “I was thinking that Brett was a sensible relationship for me, but I never felt safe with him. I never even thought about him taking care of me.” Her heart hammered inside of her chest.

He blinked and let out a light laugh. “O-kay.”

“You don’t have to say anything about that.”

“I was just processing it.”

“Right.” She knew that. This was how Tom was. He liked to process things.

Squeezing her hand, he narrowed his eyes. “The real question is, why would you put up with that, Ems? Why? Sure, you’ve always been a realist, but to put up with a ‘sensible’ relationship where you don’t feel like someone would take care of you? That’s disappointing.”

His criticism felt suddenly unbearable. No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Tom didn’t get to come into her life and criticize decisions she’d made. “Don’t do that.” He’d always been that way, so black and white. Right and wrong. Love or not love. “You don’t live in the real world, Tom. You don’t understand the things I’ve gone through.”

He let out a puff of breath. “Don’t I, Ems? Did you forget I went to war? Have you forgotten I got dumped by the love of my life ten years ago?”

She wanted to run, melt into the ground, do anything but squirm under Tom Kent’s microscope. She’d forgotten how intense he could be when he was nailing you to the wall. Belatedly, she remembered that while he might not have been good in a debate setting, he was usually good in proving what he believed was the right version of life.

Not wanting to hear this, she pushed away from him and began moving back to the resort.

“Ems, wait. We haven’t even mingled. Don’t you want your promotion?”

She stopped, realizing that it would be stupid to leave before she got in brownie points with Mr. Owens.

Tom reached for her hand. “C’mon, let’s focus on the deal.”