Page 13 of Not that Sea-Rious

Beau

W aking up to an empty bed was a disappointment. It’d been years since he slept alone. He should’ve been grateful to have the bed to himself. However, the vacancy only reminded him of his circumstances.

Staring at the ceiling, he blew out a breath.

Marissa had been a glorious and gorgeous distraction the previous evening.

Now he had to face the reality of being a reluctantly single guy on a cruise by himself.

This whole setup was intended for pairs, and he was all by his lonesome.

Filling the next few days with different women in his bed wasn’t his style.

He never rolled like that, and he wasn’t about to start.

With a grunt, he begrudgingly slid out of bed, if for no other reason than to relieve himself and to take a shower. He couldn’t stay in the room the whole trip. He spent entirely too much money to just rot in the room. Getting out and about might do him some good.

Maybe he’d bump into Marissa.

He grinned as he entered the bathroom. Considering their rooms were on the same floor and the ship was only so big, the odds were pretty high he’d see her again. Not on purpose, of course. He wouldn’t seek her out like a stalker, but by happenstance, they would probably cross paths.

They hadn’t discussed it, but he was pretty sure their tryst was a onetime enjoyment.

If there had been any questions about that, her disappearing act this morning, or last night, was proof.

She didn’t want it to be a thing. Which was fine.

It made sense. There were so many obstacles to them being more than a fun night in the sack—the biggest one being he was engaged merely days ago. He wasn’t ready for something serious.

Marissa

Thankfully, the gift shop hadn’t quite opened, so Marissa was able to avoid the embarrassment of her friends buying her condoms. They weren’t in high school anymore.

Marissa was a grown-ass woman. If she wanted them, then she could purchase them her damn self.

She didn’t need them. So the bridal party didn’t have to waste their money on protection she wouldn’t use.

She and Beau wouldn’t be doing anything.

After they’d laid out their towels on the closest lounge chairs to the pool and left their bags on the table immediately behind them, the bridal party made their way to the breakfast buffet.

As Marissa meandered through the lines, she kept her eyes peeled for an attractive redhead with a closely cropped beard.

Shaking her head as she filled her cup with guava juice, she snickered at herself. What was she doing? She’d just decided they wouldn’t have a round two. Why would she look for him?

To avoid him, obviously.

Right.

Maybe if she kept lying to herself, she’d believe it.

To be fair, he was talented. A fool would turn down another chance at several orgasms. Okay, so if she saw him, she would be open to another session.

She was on vacation. Besides, she had the bride’s blessing on that.

So, really, if she turned him down, it would be disappointing Carolyn.

That was sacrilege—the crime of all crimes.

Marissa had spent entirely too much money preparing for this wedding to get expelled from it now. Seriously. If Carolyn demanded she marry the sweet ginger treat in a joint ceremony, she’d have no choice but to do just that.

Oh dear God. She winced at her own thought. What was wrong with her?

That was unnecessarily overly dramatic. Carolyn wouldn’t dismiss Marissa from the wedding if she didn’t follow through with doinking Beau just because Carolyn approved of it, but if she did, she would miss out on the festivities. Maybe.

Ugh. She needed to turn off her brain. She’d cross that bridge if she got there.

Marissa shook her head. Okay. Either she had gone delirious with hunger, or her overthinking had gotten out of control. Whatever it was, she needed to concentrate on a new subject. This one would surely drive her insane if she kept it up.

Beau

Between eating at the buffet, playing cornhole, participating in trivia games, and tossing away a few dollars at the roulette wheel, Beau had effectively killed off an entire day at sea.

Somehow, he’d avoided Marissa. Not intentionally.

He’d been all over the damn boat, yet he hadn’t seen so much as a flash of her walking by. It was like he’d imagined her.

Wait.

Could that be it? Was she a figment of his imagination? A drunken hallucination? A fever dream? It was possible. He’d had quite a bit to drink. What other reason could there be for her to be nowhere?

Then again, he hadn’t ventured outside. With his fair skin, even thinking about the sun made him burn. He was already freckled beyond belief; he didn’t need any new dots. So, inside activities were his jam. Could he have missed her because she’d spent the day outside soaking up the sun?

The idea of exploring her new tan lines and applying lotion to her tan skin made him grin.

Sitting at the sports bar, ignoring the soccer on the televisions, he nursed a chocolate martini as he considered when would be a good time to head to bed. He’d have to do it all again tomorrow, except the next day, they were in port.

Cozumel.

Shit.

Running his thumb and forefinger along his forehead, he recalled that he’d pre-booked an excursion. Megan had an affinity for dolphins. So, he’d set up swimming with them as a fun activity for them to do while on the island. It was a surprise.

Dammit.

That wasn’t the only reservation he’d arranged for her—a top-notch dinner at the steak house on board the ship. Another goddamn waste of money because of Megan. He wasn’t about to go there by himself. He didn’t need that pomp and circumstance. Not to mention all the eyes on him dining alone. Nope.

“Why so glum, chum?” a familiar voice said from beside him.

Looking up, he spun toward the greeting and smiled, seeing the spiky-haired blond woman who was friends with Marissa. Tina, if he recalled correctly.

So, Marissa and her friends weren’t a figment of his imagination. That was good to know.

“Just a long day,” he answered as he brought his glass to his mouth.

Nodding, she pursed her lips with her gaze locked on one of the televisions. She tapped her card idly against the bar top, waiting for the bartender.

“I wasn’t aware people could have long days while on vacation,” she commented.

He sighed, not wanting to get into this with a relative stranger. “Well, when things don’t go as planned…”

Turning toward him, she cocked her head to the side.

Swirling his drink, he studied how the chocolate syrup decorated the glass. After a moment of her silence, he realized how it must have sounded. His brows flew up, and his eyes widened, and he shifted his attention back to Tina.

“No.” He licked his bottom lip. “That didn’t come out right.”

Inquisitively, she arched a brow but turned away from him the moment the drink slinger approached. “Can I get four mango margaritas, please?”

Accepting her card, the tender stepped away to mix her drinks.

“I didn’t mean Marissa,” Beau offered softly.

She furrowed her brows at him.

The more words he spoke, the worse this was for him. Covering his face with his hand, he inhaled deeply. “Let’s just suffice it to say that this isn’t the vacation I wanted.”

No good would come from airing his dirty laundry. Stuff happened. People got cheated on all the time. He didn’t need to go around telling everyone a sob story.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and offered him a gentle smile. “Well, you can either sit in the bar all by yourself, or you can make the best of an unpleasant situation.”

He peered at her. What was she getting at? Was she insinuating something about Marissa?

Before he could ask, the bartender returned and handed her back her card and the four martini glasses filled with orangey drinks. She offered Beau a playful wink and collected the beverages.

“See you around,” she said as she stepped away and left him alone with his thoughts.