Page 22 of An Epic Voyage (The Epic Beauty Salon Files #1)
T he succulent butter and garlic-infused dish melted in Indigo’s mouth. She moaned with ecstasy. The shrimp were cooked perfectly. The flavorful cream sauce, tossed expertly with the linguine, was divine. Another mark on the pro side of her mental Griffin ledger. The man could cook.
“This is so good—what? Do I have sauce on my chin?” She picked up her napkin and dabbed her face.
Griffin shook his head. “No, uh, do you want more bread?” He held up a basket, Indy’s only contribution to the meal besides the choice of wine. And, oh my, it was tasty. Red wine was her preference, but Griffin had been right. The Sauvignon Blanc paired perfectly with the pasta.
“No, thanks. I’m full. Dinner was delicious. Where did you learn to cook?”
“My grandmother. She raised me after my parents died in a car wreck.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I lost both of my parents when I was young too.”
“Yeah, I read that in your file.”
She’d forgotten that he’d background-checked her.
“No siblings?”
“No.”
He scooted back in his chair and picked up his empty plate. Indy took it from his hands.
“You cooked. I’ll clean up.”
Griffin lifted his wineglass and took a sip before heading to the couch. “I won’t argue.”
Indy made quick work of rinsing the plates and loading them into the dishwasher. She found a detergent pod and started the cleaning cycle before carrying her glass to the sofa and joining Griffin. His gaze was glued to the television.
“When is it projected to hit?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
“When do you think a rescue crew will come for us?”
Griffin shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Didn’t you call Van Houten earlier?”
“No.”
“Oh. I saw you talking on the phone, so I assumed.”
He looked away. “I called a buddy back home. I wanted someone to know where I was in case . . .”
“The worst happens?”
“Yeah.”
Griffin placed his glass on the side table and stood. He moved to the wall of monitors and typed on the keypad.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m switching to the outdoor cameras so we can watch any destruction in real time.”
#
G riffin enjoyed spending time with Indigo.
She was easy to talk to and knowledgeable about a wide range of subjects.
They shared similar interests and hobbies.
He wasn’t surprised to learn she enjoyed working out.
Her body was a testament to that. They argued good-naturedly about their tastes in football teams. While he enjoyed watching the NBA, she was a die-hard WNBA fan.
Even their choices in television programming clicked.
It would be very easy to fall for Indigo Adair. Truth be told, he’d started doing that the moment he saw her crossing the walkway to the yacht.
The object of his musings returned from the bathroom and dropped to the other end of the sofa. How did she manage to look more beautiful every time he saw her? Her lips were shiny, and he wanted nothing more than to taste them.
“How about a game of Truth or Dare?”
He shook his head. “Excuse me?”
“To pass the time, I thought we’d learn more about each other.”
Griffin studied her as she smiled at him, her wineglass in hand. He hadn’t played the game since grade school. It wasn’t a bad idea. He wanted to know everything about her. “I go first.”
She waved a hand, indicating for him to proceed.
“Truth or dare?”
She thought for a minute. “Truth.”
He asked the question he’d been wondering since he’d first met her. “Why did you give up a career in psychology or political science to work in a beauty salon?”
She narrowed her eyes, and he feared he’d said the wrong thing. “I don’t mean to imply that what you do isn’t important,” he quickly asserted. “It is. But it’s a total one-eighty from what you studied.”
The glare in Indigo’s features banked, and he let out a sigh.
“There’s no real mystery. I stumbled upon something I enjoyed more. What’s the saying? ‘Find a job you love, and you’ll never work a day in your life.’ That’s how I feel.”
Okay, that made sense. “You’re good at it. Jinger looked better than when Pammy was working with her.”
“Thank you. My turn. Truth or dare?”
Griffin needed to steer clear of any truths. He could lie to her, but for some reason, he didn’t want to—any more than he already had. “Dare.”
A seductive smile crossed her lips, and all the blood left his upper body, settling in his groin. He needed to lay off the wine before he did something stupid like kissing her.
“Kiss me.”
Air backed up in Griffin’s lungs. “Excuse me?” Had he croaked the words, or was the heartbeat pounding in his ears playing tricks with him?
“I said, I dare you to kiss me.”
It might not be a good idea, but he wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass.
Griffin forced himself to place his goblet on the table and move slowly as he approached.
He sat beside her, framing her face and running his hands through her thick, silky locks.
He looked into her eyes as he lowered his head.
Griffin knew it would be explosive when their lips met, but he didn’t expect the tingling or the fuzziness or the . . . utter darkness.