Even after ten years, Tucker looked good enough to eat. Leaning against the piano on the church dais, he laughed with a guy Emma recognized as a friend of his from high school, while she quietly had a heart attack at the church door.

The rows of empty pews between them seemed to telescope and she made herself take a deep breath.

Dammit, this shouldn’t be so difficult. So what if they’d been married to one another for four months and had decidedly hot carnal knowledge of one another? Up against her daddy’s old pick-up, at the stock tank, behind the drive-in where she’d worked in high school. And lots and lots of hot nights in the full-sized bed in their tiny apartment.

She needed to kill this ache for him, needed to make herself move on and stop breathing funny whenever she thought about her ex-husband.

Emma took another shuddery breath, trying not to remember. Not to turn tail and run. As her reporter friend, Allison, had reminded her, she was an adult, a TV news correspondent, for heaven’s sake. She could handle this. Pirates in Somali, riots in London and Christmas at the Mall of America.

She’d been all over the place and she sure wished she were anywhere else right now. Anywhere she didn’t have to face him, the one guy who always made her feel loved and desired…until he made her crazy.

Only because Michelle had been her best friend since third grade had she returned to Cupid, Texas. A wedding on Valentine’s Day no less. What the heck was Michelle thinking, asking her to come back now?

When Emma had heard that she’d have to spend the special lovers’ day with her ex-husband, she’d nearly cried. Pausing just inside the chapel, Emma knew she needed to plunge ahead. The man she’d married at eighteen might be Michelle’s groom’s best-man, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be supportive of her best friend. She’d waffled on it back and forth, telling Michelle that she couldn’t get away from her hectic job at the network. But her friend’s tears had decided Emma. She had to do this. Deserting her childhood friend at this pivotal moment wasn’t really an option.

Surely the ten years that had passed since her leaving Cupid, Texas, would provide enough of a buffer. Tucker had probably married by now and popped out three kids. She had nothing to worry about. Really.

Just her own stupid heart that had refused to let go, that held on still to the memory of his smile, the sound of his voice.

For a brief moment, she wished she hadn’t been so adamant about not hearing anything regarding Tucker. At least she’d have known what she was heading into. She’d thought not knowing about his life would make things easier. Now she was heading blindly into the situation.

Shifting her focus to the scene at the end of the aisle, Emma lifted her chin and walked as casually as she could down to the altar.

Michelle and Ryan, her groom and Tucker’s step-brother, stood under the altar lights, deep in conversation with a rattled women who seemed to be in charge of the chaos. People milled around, chatting in small knots and generally acting as if they had no other agenda besides socializing. Emma counted six people she knew and several she thought she ought to have recognized, but didn’t.

“Well, there she is.” From next to the piano, Tucker’s drawl jolted down to the soles of her feet and rubbed up against Emma’s spine. Even after all these years, the familiarity set her heart to pounding even harder. “Little Missy all grown up and wearing her television reporter shoes.”

Emma mounted the three shallow steps at the end of the aisle, trying to ignore him after glancing over to where he lazed against the piano. Instead of responding to his softly mocking statement, she touched Michelle on the shoulder.

“Emma! You’re here! Oh, thank God!” Her friend grabbed her and hugged hard.

“Hey.” She responded softly, patting Michelle’s back. “Of course I’m here. I told you I’d get here in time for the rehearsal.”

“What,” Tucker’s voice came from right behind her, “too good to hug an old friend from your childhood days?” Disentangling herself from her friend’s embrace, Emma turned.

Tucker held out his arms, a smile on his handsome face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Give daddy some sugar now.”

“You’re not my daddy and stop talking like a character from ‘Cat On A Hot Tin Roof’.” Her words came out sharper than she meant them to and she tried to make up for this by throwing Tucker a fake smile to take some of the sting out. After all, she and Tucker needed to get through this weekend without bloodshed, if possible.

He laughed then, the sound real and warm. “Hello, Emmie. How are you?”

They exchanged a small, brief side hug, as awkward as she felt.

“I’m fine, Tucker. How are you?”

Michelle laid a hand on her arm, smiling up at their friend. “It’s Doctor Tucker now. Dr. Tucker Anderson. He’s finished with his residency finally and set up shop here.”

She turned a little pink, offering the lie, “I’m sure I told you.”

Since the day Emma had left Cupid, she’d made sure Michelle understood she didn’t want to hear about Tucker. Not a word. Leaving him was hard enough.

“Doctor?” Emma let out the strangled word. “You went to medical school?”

“You knew I always liked biology.” The lazy smile stayed on his face.

Michelle’s attention was re-captured by the wedding planner and she turned back to their conversation.

“Yep, Dr. Anderson.” Tucker and Emma stood on the dais to the side. He lowered his voice to add, “I buried my broken heart in text books. It didn’t help when you kept popping up on newscasts by the time I was in medical school. Damned distracting.”

With a half-smile, she said, “Sorry. I’m sure you found lots of solace for your broken heart, what with medical school and all. Women love doctors.”

He didn’t deny her comment. She turned away gladly when the wedding coordinator called, appalled at her waspish statement.

“Over here, attendants!” the woman trilled. “Now, you’re all here, so we can start. And the clergyman? Okay, let’s run through where you’ll stand for the ceremony and then we’ll work on the march in, march out.”

For the next half hour, Emma stood where she was told and listened with half an ear while Michelle and Ryan conferred with the minister and the wedding coordinator. On the other side of the altar, Tucker looked to be waiting casually, but she felt his gaze on her throughout. Just like she’d felt him watching her in eleventh grade math class all those years ago. Just watching, his face unreadable, his dark eyes intent.

Even then, he’d been steamy sexy, rousing so much feminine interest amongst their classmates that Mr. Ponder put him in a seat at the front of the class, just to get the girls to look forward.

She’d been thrilled and gratified that Tucker had wanted to date her, that he’d seemed as aroused by her kisses as she’d been by his.

“Now here,” the wedding coordinator started. “When you march out after the bride and groom, make sure you wait for your partner. Here, you and you.”

She scurried around, matching them up. “Yes, the matron of honor and the best man walk out together.”

Emma sedately walked down the steps next to Tucker, acutely aware of him six inches away from her shoulder as they marched up the aisle. She could see him as a physician, caring for the sick and infirm. Unfortunately, her image of him in a white coat included him looking really hot with a sexy smile.

She mentally gave herself a shake. Not the way to think of a professional man and probable father of three. Certainly not the way to think about a man she needed to get cured of. They marched out to the church foyer where the wedding coordinator sent the men in again to stand next to Ryan.

“Now, ladies, it’s very important that you don’t rush down the aisle when you march in….”

Emma gave up listening, only attending with half her brain. She’d learned this from the sometimes tedious moments in broadcasting. Lots of waiting around for a very short few minutes of on-air time.

Eventually, the bridesmaids and Michelle marched in with that stutter-step that’s common to wedding entrances. Feeling Tucker’s gaze on her, Emma tried to look as casual as she could. She took her place beside Michelle, hoping Tucker’s wife or current squeeze would be in attendance at the rehearsal dinner. She couldn’t take much more of him, particularly in a bar with alcohol flowing.

If she didn’t watch out, she’d find herself succumbing to the sexy heat of the very man she’d divorced ten years before.

Damn him.

***

Flopping down on her motel room bed later that evening, Emma snugged her bathrobe belt around her more tightly, telling herself again that caution was the better part of valor. It might have looked cowardly, but she knew she didn’t need to go to the rehearsal dinner and the bar hopping that was planned for afterward.

Here she was, spending Valentine’s Day dateless and dealing with her gorgeous ex-husband. Damn.

The television was murmuring in the background, set on the cable news channel. She’d been immersed in that world so long, attending to the news was like breathing for her, but she wondered now if her future lie in another direction. Lately, quitting the television news game had occurred to her more and more.

Lying there on the bed, she thought briefly about phoning Derek, the producer she’d dated a few times recently, but the prospect didn’t hold much interest for her. There just wasn’t any zing between them. Probably because they were so rarely in the same town.

Emma ran her hand through her damp hair, pondering the life she’d created for herself. Television journalism hadn’t even been on her radar when she graduated high school. Then, all she’d thought about was Tucker—how he smelled, his smile, the way he made her laugh. His broad shoulders and cute butt.

Of course, they’d married too young. Such white, hot ardor had to burn itself out in the reality of living together every day and every night in a small apartment with little money. Her parents had tried to tell her, but she’d been so gone on Tucker, she couldn’t hear their voices of reason until she and her equally immature husband had already made a mess of things.

Thank heavens she’d gotten out before they hated each other totally. As it was, things had gotten pretty harsh. Leaving had really been her only option. The only thing that had made sense.

The phone on the nightstand next to her suddenly jangled, making Emma jump.

“Hello?”

The sound of Emma’s voice went right to Tucker’s spine, like always.

Standing by the bedside table where his phone sat, he tried to keep it brief. “We need to talk.”

“Tucker?” She sounded surprised at hearing from him. “What do we have to talk about?”

“Just the fact that we’re still legally married. I think that calls for a conversation,” he drawled, trying to keep a rein on his annoyance. She was acting as if they were now nothing to each other.

Ten years later and he’d never found a woman who got to him like Emma.

“What? We’re divorced. Aren’t we?” She sounded startled and irritated. “Aren’t we? I thought you took care of that years ago. You said you would. I remember it distinctly.”

“Good. I’m glad you remember something about our marriage, if it was just the end of it. No, I didn’t get the divorce. I thought with your determination to shake this town—and me—that you’d get the divorce eventually. All I remember of that last fight was yelling and screaming before you hit the door.”

“Tucker, this isn’t funny. You didn’t get a divorce?”

“I don’t think any of this is funny either and I’ve been a little busy in the last ten years.” He went back to drawling. “You never got any legal papers from me. I thought you knew I hadn’t filed.”

“Knew that we’re still married?” Her voice rose into a squeak. “No. No, I didn’t know that. This is terrible. OMG, what the hell?”

Her getting upset, oddly made him feel better. At least, he could still get to her, even if it was the news of their continuing marriage that did it.

“Yeah, I’m stoked about it, too. So, you wanna come over?” He heard her draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if trying to calm herself. “No! At least, not tonight.”

“How about tomorrow, then. My office? It’s on the west side of the town square. You can’t miss it. Tucker Anderson, M.D. Big letters.”

She seemed so rattled by his news, she didn’t even react to his mocking tone. It wasn’t very flattering.

“Okay. Okay, nine in the morning?” This would work out, she reassured herself. They’d be able to iron out the divorce details quickly and the wedding stuff didn’t start till later since Michelle scheduled an evening wedding.

“You’ve got a date, sweetheart.”

He made himself hang up the phone. It was over. Dead. Just because he wanted to see her again, to talk to her—hell, to kiss her really hard—didn’t mean there was anything left between them.