Page 27 of Not that Sea-Rious

Beau

T hankfully, Beau had his bags packed prior to discovering Megan’s extracurricular activity—Jordan.

Otherwise, Beau would’ve shown up on that ship with the clothes on his back.

For once, Megan’s time blindness had worked in his favor.

He had come home early for her . She did everything last minute, and to avoid being late for the ship, he left work an hour before he usually did to pack her things.

Maybe she planned it that way? He’d never considered that before. Though, he immediately chuckled at the thought. No way Megan would do that. Forethought wasn’t her strong suit. She didn’t know how to do that. It was completely accidental.

He returned to his room after speaking to Marissa and laid out the outfit he’d selected for dinner. Black slacks and a pale-blue button-down with some embroidery embellishments.

Cocking his head to the side, he noted that they’d gotten wrinkled. Frowning, he scanned the room for an iron. He was pretty sure most hotels had them, but would the cruise ship? After rifling through drawers and checking the wardrobe, he found nothing.

Well, damn.

Sighing, he stepped out of the cabin and glanced down the hall. Perhaps his room steward would know what he could do. He didn’t want to look schlubby for the dinner. It was Marissa’s and his first official date, after all.

He snorted to himself as he trudged down the hall. Their initial and only. That was the rub, wasn’t it? She was from Jersey; he currently lived in Florida. He supposed they could try a long-distance thing, but those never worked out.

Upon stumbling across the man responsible for cleaning and setting up his room, he learned there was a self-service launderette on his floor and Beau would find an iron and a board in there.

With a curt nod, he thanked the cruise ship worker and turned on his heel. Once he got the creases ironed into his pants, he’d be satisfied. The goal was to appear downright dapper for Marissa. She was damn stunning when they went dancing, and he smiled. What would she wear to their dinner?

To be honest, she could wear a paper bag, and he’d be thrilled.

It wasn’t about her appearance—though she was attractive as hell—his fondness of her extended to her personality.

She effortlessly soothed his wounded soul.

He’d be eternally grateful for every laugh she gave him when all he’d wanted to do was wallow in self-pity.

Marissa demanded nothing from him—she was just as grateful for his presence as he was for hers. It was a damn shame they lived so far apart. Beau wanted to spend as much time with her as she would allow. If only there was a way for them to be together on dry land too.

There was one thing he would take away from this trip—his existence was a lot better when he lived in the moment.

Marissa

The bathrobe was fluffy, and Marissa’s skin was silk.

Relaxing melodic tones softly caressed her ears from hidden speakers.

She smelled like a mixture of floral oils.

The hot stone massage definitely worked out the kinks in her neck and shoulders.

For a few hours, Marissa could put her concerns about what would happen tomorrow behind her.

Sitting beside one another, she and her three friends enjoyed the final phase of their pampering as the diligent spa workers attended to the women’s manicures.

This was the life. Marissa could totally get used to it.

After the wedding and Carolyn’s honeymoon, the four of them would need to meet up and get mani/pedis more frequently. Marissa vowed to make it happen.

“This was the best idea,” Joyce all but moaned. “It’s like a detox after a few days of boozing and indulging. I really needed this.”

Tina peered at her with a raised brow. “Are you under the impression we will not be drinking again tonight?”

Joyce frowned. “Well—”

“If anything, tonight is our go hard and go home night,” Carolyn announced. “I want all of us to be blackout drunk when we finally go to bed.”

“All of us?” Joyce asked. “Then who is going to ensure we get back okay?”

“Beau,” she declared.

Marissa choked on air. “What?”

Carolyn shrugged. “He’s been our little protector man all trip. Why wouldn’t he make it his priority for us to get home safely after your date?”

“Because, maybe , after their dinner, they might want dessert ?” Tina suggested, and it was clear she wasn’t talking about a sweet after-dinner treat.

Marissa’s cheeks heated, and she wished her hands were free so she could cover her face. It was one thing for them to tease her about all of this in private, but out in the open, in front of the cruise ship workers? She longed to crawl into a hole she was so embarrassed.

Carolyn rolled her eyes. “Duh. After that, obviously.”

“What if they want to cuddle or something?” Joyce asked.

“Oh my God,” Marissa blurted. “Are you really talking about me like I’m not sitting right here?”

Shifting in her seat slightly, Carolyn turned to face Marissa. “Sorry, sweetie.” She smiled warmly. “But I’m going to have to kindly request, as the bride, that you not cuddle after your horizontal mambo tonight because I want your ass in the piano bar to sing karaoke with me.”

Mortified, Marissa hung her head. “So much for that relaxing feeling,” she muttered.

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Carolyn sighed. “It’s no secret how you’ve spent the cruise, and we’re happy for you—elated, actually. You really needed a good pounding, and from what I can tell, Beau has delivered.”

Lifting her head to the ceiling, Marissa prayed to any deity who would listen. “A tsunami would be delightful right now. You know what, not even that, just a random sinkhole in the boat to swallow me. Only me.”

“Oh, stop it,” Carolyn reprimanded. “We’re grown-ups.”

Marissa sighed and turned her attention to the woman filing her fingernails. “I’m so sorry.”

The woman smiled. “Don’t be. This type of talk happens all the time. We aren’t really listening if you don’t want us to.”

Joyce cocked her head to the side. “Wait. What?”

The nail technician shrugged. “By the time you leave, we forget it. People always chat about what happens on the ship.”

Tina nodded. “That makes sense.”

“Pretend like we aren’t here,” the nail woman reassured Marissa. “But. If I may? You aren’t the first to meet someone aboard the ship, and I’m certain you won’t be the last. So, enjoy it. You only live once. If you can’t be carefree on vacation, then when?”

Unsure if she should take comfort in that or not, Marissa chewed on her bottom lip.

The woman had a point. Tomorrow, a fresh wave of cruisers would be on the boat.

Another couple would find each other and face the same decision as she and Beau—whether to stay in touch and what would that mean.

Fretting over it would only rob her of the enjoyment of the present.

That was all they had anyway—a series of moments. She might as well relish them while they lasted. Tomorrow, they’d be gone.