Her favorite thing, though, was watching him shadowbox. After his weight training, he always went into a corner and started swinging. She would be on the elliptical machine, peering from beneath her lashes while he dipped and turned, bobbed and weaved, rocking forward on the balls of his feet. He wasn’t a brawler like so many thick fighters were, rolling their shoulders and crabbing flat-footed around the ring, on the hunt for a chance to land that one stunning blow. He was a boxer, quick, sharp, always moving, sticking, and jabbing. The commentators liked to say that, by the time Whalin’ Galen knocked out his opponents, they were likely glad for the respite. He was beautiful to watch and moved with such fluidity, such grace, it wasn’t until he stood next to a mortal man that his size became apparent.

During the third workout, she finally got the nerve to ask him. “Will you show me?”

He swiped a muscled forearm over his sweaty brow and gave her a lethal grin. “Darlin’, I’m not sure what you’re referring to, but I can’t imagine saying no to anything you want to see.”

His words sent a thrill through her, and she tamped back the urge to blurt, Seriously? Why me? The words seemed to be ever-present on the tip of her tongue. Still, she managed to keep it in because the answer wouldn’t change anything. He could’ve had a fling with anyone on the island, but he’d picked her. In this magical place, at this magical moment, she had found happiness, and she was going to hold on with both fists until it was over.

“I want to learn how to box.”

When his smile broadened, she congratulated herself for finally speaking up.

“For real?”

“Yeah. I’ve been watching forever but never thought about it as a workout. I’d really like to learn.”

He cocked his head to the side. “After all the years we’ve known each other, I can’t get over how you continue to surprise me.” His dark eyes held hers captive. “I’ve never had a woman interested in my career before, aside from the celebrity of it. I gotta tell you, it’s very sexy.”

Warmth spread through her whole body, as if she’d turned to face the sun. “Teach me. I want to know everything.”

He chuckled, and she rushed to correct herself. “I mean, I know we don’t have a lot of time, but whatever you can show me in a week.” The last thing she wanted was for him to think he was going to have to let her down easy once they went back home. She might be naive in some aspects, but she wasn’t a total rube. When they went back to Rhode Island, they would be leaving this behind. The thought was like an eclipse, sapping the warmth of the sun away. She shoved it aside in a rush.

Galen rubbed his hands together and grinned. “I am so down with this plan; I can’t wait to start. We’ll see if we can’t find a sporting goods store to get me some punch mitts and you some wraps and little gloves. It’s going to be a blast.”

She drew back. “I just meant fooling around here. I didn’t know we needed stuff for it. You don’t need to go through all that trouble for me.”

He shook his head with a frown. “When are you going to get it, Lacey? You’re worth the trouble. You deserve to be around people who want to do things for you and make you smile.” His face softened and he pulled her in for a hug. “Besides, this isn’t for you, it’s for both of us. I’m really looking forward to it.”

She held him tightly, reveling in the clean sweat smell of him, until he reached down and smacked her on the ass.

“In fact, let’s start now. I’ll teach you some moves. Come on.” He stepped back an arm’s length. “First thing, let’s get your stance right. You’re a southpaw, right?”

“Well, I’ve never punched anyone before, but I write with my left hand, yes.”

“Okay, so usually you stand in front of a mirror for this part, but since you’re a southpaw and I’m not, I can be your mirror.” He waggled his brows at her and she smiled. “Start in athletic position, feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent.”

She did as he said and then looked up at him. “Like this?”

“Close, but not flat like that. Get up on the balls of your feet, get a little movement going.”

She tried to mimic him, bouncing on her toes, but she felt like a total idiot and stopped. “I don’t think I—”

“That was great, come on. Keep doing it.”

She did, reluctantly at first, but more enthusiastically at his approving grin.

“Nice. Watch me, and do what I do.”

He moved his right foot back a step, swiveling his hips at a forty-five-degree angle and she followed suit.

“Nope,” he said, reaching out to pat her thigh. “I’m your mirror. I put my right foot back and lead with my left. You do the opposite. Like a mirror, got it?”

She switched feet and waited for his next command.

“And don’t stop bouncing, gotta keep it moving. Good. You’re still too straight on, though. Tilt your hips more, get almost sideways. Stand like you were, and you’re a wall, just waiting to get hit. Get on the angle and you’re a much smaller target.” He twisted to show her, exaggerating the move, and flashing his tight butt for the second before he turned back to her.

She twisted until her stance matched his. “Good?”

“Beautiful.” He lifted his left hand up and made a loose fist. “Lift your right up. Not so high. You’re blocking your line of sight. Put it right below eye level. That way you’re covering most of your face, but you can see what you’re aiming at and what’s coming.”

She dropped her hand down a little.

“Good. That’s your jabbing hand. A jab is the feeler punch. A tester. The soldier you send out to get the lay of the land. Tire the other guy out some, keep them guessing. Now put up the left. This one’s going to be level with your chin, elbow more bent and closer to your body.”

She followed his lead and sent him a questioning glance.

“Right. This is your power punching hand. The mac daddy. The haymaker. It’s cocked and ready to fire, like a piston. The strength of your whole body will be behind it, but because you expend so much energy to throw, you have to limit it. Make every single one count. You ready to throw some punches?”

His biceps bunched and gleamed with sweat and she tore her gaze away to meet his. What she saw there nearly took her breath away. The boyish smile, his face lit up in the best way…a swell of emotion rolled through her, so strong she wanted to throw herself in his arms and beg him to never let her go. Instead she nodded. “Let’s do it.”

“The most important weapon in boxing is the jab. There isn’t a truly great fighter out there, alive or dead, who didn’t have an effective jab. You want to skip a step forward with your right foot, getting a little of your body behind it when you let that fist snap out, okay? When the fist comes back, so should the foot.”

His hand flicked out, so fast it was a blur. She dropped her hands and jumped back.

“Never put your hands down. Come on, I wasn’t even close to you. Get back in here. You try.”

She tried to put it all together, bounce, fist at eye level, step forward, let her hand fly—

“Not bad! But don’t let it linger like that. You leave it out there, you’re wide open to a right cross. You’d get your block knocked off. Fast, like a viper.” He took her wrist and guided her, snapping her fist against his palm hard and quickly pulling it back.

She repeated the motion alone, and this time he barked out a laugh. “Woo-hoo, baby girl! That’s what I’m talking about. You’re like lightning. But we gotta get a little something behind it.”

“You said this was the feeler punch. I thought—”

“Right. But every punch should come with bad intentions and the jab is no different. Whether it’s to disarm or disorient, you’ve got to make sure there’s enough juice behind it to make your opponents take notice. If not, they won’t need to expend any energy worrying about it, and your odds of getting off a real clock-cleaner when they aren’t looking shrink exponentially.”

And so it went. He was a patient and thorough teacher, which was no surprise given his demeanor in the bedroom, but he was also demanding. It had brought out the best in her. He’d complimented her on her speed and agility more than once, swearing that she was a natural. Her nerves and the initial fear of looking foolish disappeared and her confidence soared. She’d had the time of her life, and an hour later they’d fallen into a happy, exhausted heap on the floor, promising to do it again the next day.

They went upstairs to shower, and she’d just taken hers when there was a knock at the door. “Did you order room service?” she called into the bathroom to Galen. He must not have heard her over the spray because he didn’t respond. She shrugged and crossed the room to open the front door.

Cat stood there, decked out in a sundress and floppy hat. Her green eyes sparkled, and she tossed her hat in the air with a shout. “Woo-hoo! Good morning, Puerto Rico-oh-oh!” She dropped her suitcase to drag Lacey in for a bear hug.

“Holy crap,” she said, limp with shock as her friend attempted to squeeze her guts out. “What are you doing here?”

“I figured you had a whole week left, and my brother was probably driving you crazy by now. I finished up my project at the office and thought I’d come save you and work on my tan. Awesome, no?” She pulled back, beaming with excitement.

She was right about one thing. Galen was driving her crazy. All night, every night. As glad as she was to see her friend, a big part of her was heartsick over the loss of alone time with Galen. She’d been banking on that week, counting and recounting the hours like a miser with his chest of gold, and now it was gone, just like that. Surely Galen wouldn’t want his sister to know what they’d been up to. That would make it too real, and this was nothing more than a fantasy.

Her throat felt thick, and she fought to find a smile for her best friend in the world. “Awesome is right. I’m so happy you’re here.” She grabbed Cat’s suitcase and pulled her into the villa. “How was your flight?”

“Long but super smooth, thanks. I’m starving, though. What’s with this five hours in the air and no in-flight meal crap? Is that a new thing?” She dropped onto the couch with a grateful sigh. “I was ready to give myself to the pilot for another sad little bag of nuts.”

“Who are you kidding? You’re a sucker for a man in uniform. I think the peanuts would’ve been optional.”

Cat snort-laughed and nodded. “You’re probably right. I didn’t get a look at him, though, so I can’t say for sure.” She held out a handful of papers. “These are for you. The chubby little guy at the front desk asked me to bring them.”

Lacey rolled her eyes. “Awesome.”

“What are they?”

“Notes from my mother. Whoever is at the front desk probably didn’t get the memo that I don’t want them. Other than these? It’s been great. We don’t have phone or Internet here, and she hasn’t been able to get her paws on Galen’s cell number, so she’s taken to calling the front desk with scathing messages for me.” She tossed them, unread, onto the coffee table.

Galen sauntered into the room in a pair of threadbare gym shorts, scrubbing his damp hair with a towel. “Hey, did you see where my camera w—” His eyes bugged out a little when his sister stood. “Holy shit, what are you doing here, runt?” Although he sounded happy to see her, there was a split second where his face dropped.

Lacey’s heart felt a little lighter for it. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready to let go, either.

“Came to check on my girl and make sure you weren’t boring her to tears with sports talk or driving her to drink with your terrible jokes.”