“Never mind ‘armed and dangerous’, this man’s abs should carry a warning. Alert: chiseled abs up ahead! May cause embarrassing public displays of desire.”
Will Cassidy is hot, infuriating, and the guy behind the biggest heart-stomping humiliation of my life. He’s also hosting my BFF’s destination wedding at his super-luxe tropical resort, so short of a hurricane or outbreak of the plague (here’s hoping), I’m stuck within t̶o̶n̶g̶u̶e̶’s̶ arm’s reach of him for the next seven days.
But I’m not a naive college girl anymore, and there’s no way I’m falling for his (many) charms again. I just have to ignore the romantic wedding shenanigans, his miraculous abs, all those intimate beach sunsets… And did I mention those abs?
Maybe a wild vacation fling is exactly what I need to even the score… But between the scorching chemistry and all-inclusive margaritas, I’m getting drunk on love. Which definitely isn’t part of the plan.
Can I keep my heart zipped – even if my bikini bottoms are lost somewhere on that nude beach? And how do you let go of the past when you’re holding on tight to the past’s (very ripped) torso?