Page 34
Story: Austen
Also, she wasn’t exactly suffering, was she?
Maybe she was Cinderella.
And Declan was what?Her handsome prince?She glanced at him, sitting in the hot tub, talking with Hunter.He’d taken off his shirt, and the man definitely worked out—strong shoulders, muscled arms.He wore a pair of Ray-Bans, like a modern-day movie star, Hollywood written all over him.
Clearly the sun had gotten to her, started to sizzle all the feelings inside.
Declan’s grand tour of the boat hadn’t helped.The way that, after she’d taken his hand—mostly to get him way from Steinbeck—he hadn’t let go.
He’d shown her around the three decks—starting with the opulent salon and dining area on the main deck, then the aft-deck lounging areas, the inside foredeck with large wraparound sofa, and even the second-deck theater and gym.
Hence the washboard abs.
They sat in the spa lounge on the second level, overlooking the deck below, the blue skies cloudless, and frankly, she could sink into sleep right here under the glorious sun.
A perfect day, and she simply didn’t have to think about yesterday.
Or about Stein’s words to her as he left the boat.“If you need me, just shout.”What, he’d follow the boat, appear at her first shout?Her brother could be a little overzealous.
Declan rose from the Jacuzzi, water dripping off him, and climbed out, grabbing a towel.He dried his hair, then wrapped the towel over his shoulders, settling onto the lounge chair beside her.“Not a bad way to travel.”
“I’ll manage,” she said, smiling.
He smiled back.Wow, he was handsome when he smiled.And when he didn’t smile.And when he scowled...
Just, always.
Good thing Steinbeck hadn’t stuck around.In fact—“What went down between you and Stein?”She’d walked up with the two men staring at each other like they might be trying to reduce one another to ash.
Usually Steinbeck won any fight, so the fact that Declan had held his own...
But the manhadbeen a Marine.
“Just a disagreement,” Declan said.He leaned back on the lounge chair, and Jermaine came over, set a glass beside him.
“Would you see if Camille has any tapas?And I’d love some of her homemade hummus.”
Jermaine left and Austen glanced over at Declan.“Hummus?”
“So good.And she makes her own pita bread, so...”He put his arms up behind his head.
Only then did she spot the tattoo on the underside of his arm.Semper Fidelis,in script.
She pointed to the tat.“You get that while you were in the Marines?”
He glanced at it, then shook his head.“I got it when I was eighteen, right out of high school.”
“Before you joined up?That was prophetic.”
“No, I was always going to be a Marine.”He lowered his arms, sat up, and reached for his glass.“My dad was a Marine.”
“He must have been proud when you joined up.”
He glanced at her, and a memory niggled.Wait—he’d said he was raised by a single mom.
“He died in the Gulf War when I was three.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Declan.”
Maybe she was Cinderella.
And Declan was what?Her handsome prince?She glanced at him, sitting in the hot tub, talking with Hunter.He’d taken off his shirt, and the man definitely worked out—strong shoulders, muscled arms.He wore a pair of Ray-Bans, like a modern-day movie star, Hollywood written all over him.
Clearly the sun had gotten to her, started to sizzle all the feelings inside.
Declan’s grand tour of the boat hadn’t helped.The way that, after she’d taken his hand—mostly to get him way from Steinbeck—he hadn’t let go.
He’d shown her around the three decks—starting with the opulent salon and dining area on the main deck, then the aft-deck lounging areas, the inside foredeck with large wraparound sofa, and even the second-deck theater and gym.
Hence the washboard abs.
They sat in the spa lounge on the second level, overlooking the deck below, the blue skies cloudless, and frankly, she could sink into sleep right here under the glorious sun.
A perfect day, and she simply didn’t have to think about yesterday.
Or about Stein’s words to her as he left the boat.“If you need me, just shout.”What, he’d follow the boat, appear at her first shout?Her brother could be a little overzealous.
Declan rose from the Jacuzzi, water dripping off him, and climbed out, grabbing a towel.He dried his hair, then wrapped the towel over his shoulders, settling onto the lounge chair beside her.“Not a bad way to travel.”
“I’ll manage,” she said, smiling.
He smiled back.Wow, he was handsome when he smiled.And when he didn’t smile.And when he scowled...
Just, always.
Good thing Steinbeck hadn’t stuck around.In fact—“What went down between you and Stein?”She’d walked up with the two men staring at each other like they might be trying to reduce one another to ash.
Usually Steinbeck won any fight, so the fact that Declan had held his own...
But the manhadbeen a Marine.
“Just a disagreement,” Declan said.He leaned back on the lounge chair, and Jermaine came over, set a glass beside him.
“Would you see if Camille has any tapas?And I’d love some of her homemade hummus.”
Jermaine left and Austen glanced over at Declan.“Hummus?”
“So good.And she makes her own pita bread, so...”He put his arms up behind his head.
Only then did she spot the tattoo on the underside of his arm.Semper Fidelis,in script.
She pointed to the tat.“You get that while you were in the Marines?”
He glanced at it, then shook his head.“I got it when I was eighteen, right out of high school.”
“Before you joined up?That was prophetic.”
“No, I was always going to be a Marine.”He lowered his arms, sat up, and reached for his glass.“My dad was a Marine.”
“He must have been proud when you joined up.”
He glanced at her, and a memory niggled.Wait—he’d said he was raised by a single mom.
“He died in the Gulf War when I was three.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Declan.”
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