Page 7 of Not that Sea-Rious

Marissa

H ow could she be so stupid? Marissa silently cursed herself as she walked through the halls with a jaunty Beau.

She couldn’t help but laugh at his antics.

He walked with a stiff posture, his chin high and his eyes straight.

It felt like she was being escorted to some sort of ball despite being dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

When they returned to the table, the dealer had switched.

The new person hadn’t a clue where her card went.

They retraced her steps throughout the boat.

While they found a bunch of cute little rubber ducks hidden in the alcoves, which they promptly re-hid, assuming that was part of the game, her room key was nowhere to be found.

Giving up, they headed to the guest services desk.

With a fresh card issued, the pair stepped into the bustling foyer.

At eleven thirty, the ship was in full swing.

People were laughing, dancing along with a band, and drinking cocktails.

Carolyn was right. It was too early to go to bed, but if Marissa stayed out partying on her own, it’d be weird.

Wouldn’t it? This was supposed to be a girls’ weekend.

Glancing over at Beau, she nibbled on her bottom lip. Did he want to hang around? He had to. Why else would he still be with her? Sure, chivalry and all that, but seriously, he didn’t look like he was ready to call it a night either.

“So, did you want me to take you to your cabin?” he asked.

There seemed to be a smidge of hope in his eyes, but for what? To be freed from her company or to keep it?

After swallowing any hesitation, since her nerves had the audacity to bubble up, Marissa decided she was on vacation. What were the odds she’d ever see this guy again? Well, pretty high. The ship wasn’t that big, but after they disembarked? Low as hell.

“Did you want to call it a night?” she asked, trying to appear nonchalant and confident, though she feared her words came out meek and slightly needy.

“Not really,” he admitted sheepishly.

Why did her stomach swoon? Also, why did he look guilty? Wait a minute. He never said who traveled with him. Not that she asked. She barely knew anything about him.

Focus. She had things to consider here. The rooms were booked with the expectation of two people, minimum, occupying them.

Which meant the likelihood he traveled alone was slim.

Who went on a cruise by themselves, anyway?

He had to be with someone . A friend? Maybe.

Men took trips like this all the time but usually they stuck together in a pack, doing stupid tests of masculinity.

At least, that was what was always depicted in movies.

It wasn’t like she had any firsthand experience.

Though, his solitariness begged the questions.

Why was he by himself at the roulette wheel? Whom had he traveled with?

Hopefully, no one important.

“Did you want to meet up with your roommate?” she asked, hopeful they were a buddy. Maybe he was with his friends or family or something. Anyone but a wife or girlfriend. A boyfriend wouldn’t bode well for her either.

Then again, if he was with someone in that way, wouldn’t they have shown up at the roulette table looking for him by now? He’d been with Marissa and her friends for hours at this point.

Maybe she, or he , was sleeping it off.

Eying Beau, she considered the possibility, but she didn’t get the vibe he’d leave someone who was blackout drunk unattended. There was a positive aura about him. Her gut told her he was a decent dude.

Well, either her intuition or the martinis. She couldn’t be sure.

As her mind raced with the possibilities, Beau broke into her thoughts. “I’m by myself.”

Wait. What? How? Why?

She cocked her head, picking up on a bit of sorrow there. Narrowing her eyes, a new set of wonderings ping-ponged in her brain. She chose to keep them to herself for now. The admission seemed to bother him, and she didn’t want to ruin the mood.

“Would you like to get another drink?” he asked, gesturing down the hall. “There’s a really cool piano bar just outside the casino.”

Grinning, she nodded. “Yeah. That sounds fun.”

Beau

Truth be told, Beau wasn’t ready for the night to end. Sure, their party had been cut down to two, but he enjoyed this feeling. It wasn’t him wallowing in self-pity as he drank toward liver failure. He actually got to laugh. Marissa was good company.

Why would he want to return to his lonely, somber existence, where all he could do was replay walking in on Megan and Jordan? Nope, this distraction was far better and probably healthier.

As they strolled toward the piano bar, the two of them discussed music and what songs they’d like to hear.

Mutually, they’d decided no Billy Joel or Elton John.

Nothing was wrong with either of those very talented musicians.

Beau and Marissa just wanted to hear something a little different.

Maybe they could challenge the guy behind the ivory.

They sat at one of the small tables across from each other and looked over the drink menus.

“Did we want to stick with chocolate martinis or mix it up?” she asked.

Beau lifted his brows in intrigue. “What did you have in mind?”

Hiding her face with the menu, Marissa lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t know, something fruity. Chocolate is good and all, but I think a palate cleanser is in order. If you’d like a beer or whatever, I totally understand.”

Smirking, he leaned over the table to get closer to her. “I’m going to tell you a secret.”

She glanced around as though someone else even cared about their conversation before she, too, extended her body over the table. They were inches from each other, and he got an up close and personal view of golden flecks in her rich brown irises. Her beauty captivated him.

“I don’t like beer,” he admitted in hushed tones, feigning shame by lowering his head. “I know. Hops and barley are supposed to be my thing.”

Falling back in her chair, she let out an exaggerated gasp and held a hand over her chest, clutching her nonexistent pearls. “Sir,” she declared. “Without beer, how do you have testosterone?”

Meeting her playful gaze, he grinned. “Oh, if you’re worried about that, wait until I inform you I don’t follow sports either.”

After another intense sharp inhale, Marissa flailed a little. As she purposely sputtered, he could tell she stifled a laugh to remain in character.

“Are you even a man ?” The challenge in her tone hinted at something else. The gleam in her eye and the smile playing on her lips enticed him.

She was flirting. Shit. So was he, but it looked a thousand times better on her.

“Would you like to find out?” His response fell out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about it. This game was fun, and he wanted nothing more than to play along.