Page 23 of Not that Sea-Rious

Marissa

A fter a quick lunch, Marissa and Beau headed to the bar where they’d agreed to meet up with Carolyn, Tina, and Joyce.

Her friends should be fried to a crisp at this point.

She hoped, at the very least, someone kept reapplying sunscreen to Carolyn.

Nothing would ruin her wedding more than being a lobster for the nuptials.

Granted, they had about a week before she walked down the aisle.

Oh no! If she wasn’t careful, seven days after a sunburn would mean that her skin would enter the peeling stage of the healing process.

That would really ruin pictures. Imagine the disaster her wedding photos would be.

A poorly placed tan line was one thing, but flaking skin was completely different.

Thankfully, she had Tina and Joyce with her. The two of them were responsible. If anything, Carolyn might come off the beach whiter than when she went on it because that pair would douse her in sunscreen. There were no more maternal people in the world than Tina and Joyce.

Blowing out a breath of relief from a crisis scenario she created in her head, Marissa chuckled at herself. Carolyn was a grown-ass woman. She knew how to care for her skin. This wasn’t worth worrying about.

She dipped her chin when Beau opened the door for her. “Thank you.”

Of course, he was a gentleman. He was funny, adorable, generous, kind, and opened doors for her.

Seriously, he checked every damn box she had.

This was what she was looking for in a partner.

Except for that whole pesky detail about him being from Florida.

She was never big on long-distance relationships.

Once, in college, she’d tried it with a guy she met over the summer.

He went to a school three hours away from her.

That was driving. Florida was a two-and-a-half-hour plane ride.

One was a bit more expensive than the other.

Either way, she couldn’t make it work then, and she had little hope she could do it successfully now.

Then again, it wasn’t like he’d asked her to even attempt anything more than a roll in the hay.

This was a vacation fling. Something she would look back upon fondly.

That was the decision she made two days ago.

She needed to stuff any thoughts of it being any more than casual out of her brain real quick.

Anyone could appear good on paper for three days.

Right now, Beau was a paper boy. They didn’t have the time to establish any sort of anything real.

Yes, they got along well and had a connection.

If circumstances were different, perhaps she could consider it being more, but for now, she had to be content with making memories.

As they followed the hostess through the throngs of people in colorful chairs at the heavily shellacked wooden tables, Marissa swung her bag of mementos at her side. These were what she’d have of Beau when they got off the ship. They’d be all she needed.

As she sat and looked at the offered menu, she inhaled deeply and surveyed her chattering friends.

Worrying about what would happen after they got off the boat back in Tampa would rob her of any of the joys left in the next day and a half she could share with him.

She grinned at him over the options. The only course of action she had was to live in the moment, and that was exactly what she’d do.

“So, how was it?” Joyce asked as she used her straw to swirl her drink.

“Amazing,” Marissa began. Except she didn’t get to elaborate. A loud-as-hell shrill toot blew to her left. She turned and saw a line of servers marching toward the group beside them.

More shrieks from the whistle rang in her ears as someone carrying a bright-pink bottle raised it above their head.

One server grabbed a man’s forehead, tilted it back, and poured the liquor into his mouth.

It spilled all over as he tried to swallow.

Once righted, the server gripped his face, shook it, tweaked his nose, and bonked his head.

Still blowing the whistle, the group went on and made sure everyone at the table got the same treatment. Carolyn hooted and raised her hands in the air. “I love this!”

The man with the whistle twisted, spotted her, and pointed. Once they were done with that table, it was their turn. Marissa shifted her focus to Beau. He was laughing and clapping along with the crowd as they attempted to drown Carolyn in some premixed house shot.

He fit into their group perfectly. Marissa would bet that he’d even get along with the spouses.

Hey now. Thinking like that could only lead to trouble. This was a fling . Her connection with Beau was temporary, and she needed to remind herself of that. Getting her hopes up for something more would only lead to disappointment. Any sort of relationship couldn’t possibly work.

As she made the mental assertion, hands found her face. Here we go! She tilted her head back and choked on the sweet, bottled shot. Laughing through it, the servers shook her, disorienting her for a minute before they pinched her nose and tweaked her breasts.

Grabbing a napkin, she cracked up and collected her bearings. As she wiped the excess alcohol from her body, she watched them do the same to Beau. Though he seemed to be better at swallowing than she was. Which was good to know.

Okay, her brain needed to chill the fuck out. Beau and Marissa being involved wasn’t happening. There was no use getting attached.

“Who wants yard glasses?” she asked the group.

Every woman at the table raised their hand.

Beau lowered the napkin he’d used to clean his face and snickered at their vote. The music boomed. The surrounding conversation was louder. So, it was possible he might not have heard what she asked. Either way, his hand went up in the air.

“Perfect,” Tina said, wearing a grin. “Beau has the first round.”

He nodded. “As you wish.”