“You really think he was totally unsuited?” Julia teased, using a pair of tongs to lift a blueberry muffin from a tray and set it on the edge of her plate. The line moved ahead and she lifted a serving spoon from a bowl of fruit salad and dished a scoop onto her plate as well.
Martin pretended to consider this as he waited for a chef at the bakery table to set out a tray of fresh croissants. “Yes,” he finally concluded. “Totally unsuited.”
Julia snorted and moved past the covered dish of steaming scrambled eggs. “Don’t hold back on your real feelings,” she said.
“I never do.” Martin picked up a piece of bacon from his plate and bit into it as he followed Julia over to a table for two.
“Oh, are we eating together?” she joked, watching him pull out the chair across from hers.
“We are.” Martin scooted his chair up to the table and unfolded the white napkin, snapping it open firmly before setting it in his lap. “I decided last night, Julia Delmonico, that you and I should be doing more things together.”
Julia sipped her orange juice with amusement. “We have been doing things together.”
“No,” Martin corrected, holding up a finger, “I think it’s time we do all the things.”
“All the things…?” Julia set the juice down and traded it for her coffee, which she sipped as she considered this. “Okay, why not?” She shrugged and watched his face.
“Are you saying you’re ready to forsake all others and be my permanent date on this trip?”
Julia held her coffee cup in both hands for a moment and then set it on the saucer with a clink. “Is that what you’re asking me to do?”
They stared at one another across the table for a long moment. Without a doubt, Martin was the most attractive man she’d seen on the ship. His dark hair and sparkly eyes had drawn her in immediately, not to mention his trim physique and impish personality. His sense of humor was spot-on for her, and being in his presence thus far had brought her nothing but joy. Still…committing to being some sort of pseudo-couple on a two week long cruise seemed like a leap.
“I like you, Julia,” he said simply as he buttered his croissant. “I think you’re pretty and smart and kind, and something about you caught my eye the first time I saw you.”
“Thank you.”
“I am asking you to stop going on dates with insurance salesmen who hate 80s music and to be my date now and when we get to the islands. I promise to let you play as much Prince and George Michael as you want.”
Julia nodded slowly. “Since you’re ready to listen to my music, then I’m ready to commit to that,” she said, watching his face light up, “but only if you’re ready to tell me more about your life and your past.”
The glimmer in Martin’s eyes dimmed almost imperceptibly, but there was still a noticeable shift in wattage. Julia waited for an answer.
“Let’s finish breakfast and go for a walk,” he said, tucking into his food.
They ate companionably and then left their dishes, and Julia trailed Martin outside to the deck. There, they found two chairs at the railing overlooking the water. “Shall we?” he asked, motioning. Julia took one of the seats and put her feet up, staring out at the water.
“So, you want to know more,” Martin said, leaning back and putting his head against the chair. “I guess you’ll be wanting to know more about my family coming here and my dad getting sent back?”
“Sure. I want to hear everything,” she said, trying not to sound too eager. In truth, what she was hoping to get to was his marriage “to the wrong person for the wrong reasons,” and to his lack of communication with his grown son. But in Julia’s experience working with young humans, trying to pull information from someone too eagerly rather than waiting for them to disclose it was a surefire way to get a person to clam up without divulging anything.
“So only everything, huh?” Martin asked wryly. “Okay, well, I’ll see if I can squeeze it all in.” He squinted out at the water and Julia watched his profile, admiring the little glints of silver that flecked his still-dark hair. Martin exhaled. “My parents came to the U.S. in search of a better life, much like anyone who comes here, I would imagine. My dad got work on an orange farm in Florida, and my mother—my sweet, sweet mother—took in washing and did childcare for the neighborhood. After a few years, they had me and Ally, and things got harder for them.”
Julia gave herself over to the story, listening as Martin talked about his dad’s drinking and eventual arrest for a fight outside a bar when Martin was fourteen, which led to his deportation. That had turned the family upside down, and before long, his mother had been diagnosed with lung cancer. When she’d passed, Ally and Martin had been on their own, but they’d gotten by. Both had completed college and started lives of their own, and from the way he spoke about his sister, Julia could tell that Martin and Ally were still incredibly close.
“And so at some point you left Florida,” Julia prompted, hoping to get to the part where he became a father to a boy who now lived in Los Angeles. She was only assuming that he’d gone to L.A. and met the boy’s mother, and was hoping that Martin would continue to fill in the blanks.
In the distance on the water, another cruise ship moved against the impossibly blue sky. Martin watched it intently.
“You know what they say?” he asked, turning to face Julia. “They say that when two ships pass one another, it’s good luck to kiss the person closest to you.”
“Oh, they do not!” Julia protested, shocked by his change of direction.
“Sure they do—haven’t you ever heard of two ships passing in the night?”
“It’s not night, and that’s just a saying, not a directive to plant a kiss on a stranger.”
“Come on, Julia,” Martin said, his eyes searching hers. “Go along with me on this one.”
Julia watched his face as he leaned into her, slowly closing the gap between them. There was time to protest, certainly. There was even time to reflect on the fact that no other man aside from Will had kissed her since Bill Clinton’s first term in office. But as he moved in closer and closer, Julia never once considered stopping Martin. Something in her wanted to feel the touch of a man, however brief, and to feel alive again. Even if this was just a fun friendship or a vacation romance, Julia was charmed by Martin’s sense of adventure and by the things she still had to learn about him.
After watching him inch in her direction for a moment, Julia leaned forward until their lips met for the first time. His were warm and soft, and she melted into the kiss as a million emotions swirled around inside of her. She let Martin put a hand to her cheek as he moved his lips on hers, and when he finally pulled away, the only thing Julia could think about was when he might do it again.
“So?” Martin asked, his voice throatier than it had been. “What do you say?”
“To what?” Julia felt scattered; her mind couldn’t seem to find whatever it was that they’d been talking about previously. She recalled a story about his hardworking parents and his beloved sister…she remembered a boat drifting across the ocean in the distance as he talked…but that was all.
“What do you say to being my date for the rest of the trip?” He smiled, pulling his impossibly soft lips into a smile as he watched her eyelids flutter.
“Will you be doing that again?”
Martin’s grin broadened so that she could see all his teeth, and the corners of his eyes collapsed into lines of laughter and happiness. “Many times,” he promised. “If you let me, I will be doing that again many, many times.”
To seal the deal, he leaned in and gave her one more gentle kiss.
10
With a clap between each syllable, Blaine approached Julia on the pool deck. “JU-LI-A DEL-MON-I-CO,” he shouted. "I have heard some things about you, and I am stunned. There are no words.”
Julia stopped laying her towel on the lounge chair and stood to look at Blaine as he wove between women in bikinis and hairy-chested men in brightly colored s
wim trunks.
“Hi, Blaine.”
“That’s all you have to say to me? Really?” He put a fist on one hip and looked at her with disbelief. “I set you up with a perfectly nice man, and I hear through the grapevine that you ditched him and left with some other guy. Not to mention that you were spotted kissing someone who was not Gil.”
“Blaine,” Julia said, setting her beach bag on her chair and sliding her arms out of her pool cover-up. “I don’t think Gil and I were destined to be together.”
“And why not? You two were almost a perfect match when I ran the info—I think you just didn’t give him a chance.” His face was a mask of real concern, and beneath the admonishing tone, Julia could tell that he actually cared.
“Um,” Julia pulled a bottle of sunscreen from her bag and popped the lid. “As it turns out, he doesn’t like Duran Duran. And that’s a deal-breaker for me.”
Blaine stared at her. “Listen, young lady,” he said, his voice softening. “You know the stats here. At your age, you don’t have the luxury of being picky or wasting time.”
Julia sighed and squirted a dab of white lotion on her upper arm. She began to rub it into her skin, not looking at Blaine. “So I’ve been told. But listen, I was fine before I came on this cruise, and I’ll be fine afterwards even if I leave here alone.” Julia dabbed her other arm with lotion and rubbed that in as she spoke. “But what I will not do is go out with some guy that I just feel zero chemistry with. I don’t need that.”
“And you feel some sort of chemistry with Mr. Mysterious?”
“Mr. Mysterious?” she chuckled. “Okay, I’ll bite. What is your deal with Martin?”
Blaine reached for the sunscreen and took it from Julia’s hand so she’d look at him and pay attention. “Okay, Julia. I am under strict rules not to speak negatively about any of our guests. But I’ve talked to his cupid, and he’s got a past.”
“I think we all do.” Julia put out a hand and waited for Blaine to hand her sunscreen back. “We’re middle aged humans. We’ve lived entire lifetimes before arriving here on this ship.”
“Listen. It’s more than that. I think he’s been to prison.” Blaine took a step closer and put himself definitively in Julia’s personal space. “Or worse,” he whispered.
Julia’s eyebrows shot up. “Worse?”
Blaine glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “His face is really familiar, Julia. Don’t you think so?”
She thought about this for a second. “No, not really. What are you getting at?”
“Honey.” Blaine blew out his breath and made a face like he was about to devastate her with his news. “I think he might have been in a boy band in the 90s.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Julia grabbed the sunscreen from Blaine’s hand and sat down on the chair so that she could slather it on her legs. “A boy band?”
Blaine shook his head with pity as he watched her. “Okay. He might be a little too old to be a Backstreet Boy. But when you find out that he got some raging case of herpes doing the county fair circuit and wearing a shiny vest and too much hair gel, don’t come crying to me, alright?”
“I promise I won’t,” she said, looking up at Blaine and giving him a wink. “But Blaine?”
“Yes, love?”
“Please don’t set me up with any more guys like Gil, okay?”
A shadow passed between Julia and the sun and the slight change in temperature stirred her from her nap. She opened her eyes behind her sunglasses and shielded her eyes with one hand as she squinted up at the figure standing over her; she’d fallen asleep on the lounge chair with an open book on her chest.
“Hey,” she said, once she realized it was Martin.
“Hey yourself.” He had his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Sorry to wake you.”
“No worries,” Julia said, pushing herself upright. She had no idea how long she’d been dozing.
Martin sat on the foot of her lounge chair. “So, are you ever going to give me your number, or am I going to have to keep knocking on the door to your empty room and wandering around the ship until I find you?”
“You’re right,” Julia said, running a hand through her hair. “We never did trade numbers.”
“Well, I’ve got you now,” he said, his mouth pulling up in an alluring half-smile. “So let’s do something.”
“I was doing something,” Julia said wryly. “It’s called napping in the sun.”
“You’re going to turn into a lobster if you don’t watch it.” Martin slapped her thigh lightly. “This pale skin isn’t made for hours of working in the fields or baking in the sun, you know.”
“I’m not that pale,” Julia argued good-naturedly.
“Oh, Julia,” Martin said, “you are that pale.”
Julia reached for her cover-up and slipped her arms into it. “You’re probably right. I’ve had enough sun for this morning, so let’s do something.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Martin said, pulling a rolled-up itinerary from his back pocket and unfolding it, “because I signed us up to ice skate in an hour.”
“Ice skating?” That got Julia’s attention.
“Yeah, there’s a rink. There’s also a zip-line, if you’re interested.”
Julia stood up and slid her feet into her sandals. She held up a hand to stop him. “Ice skating I can do—zip-lining is going to take a bit more convincing.”
“I bet I can convince you,” he said, taking her hand and leading the way to the elevators. “Just give me an hour on the ice rink to woo you with my moves. I’m like the Ice Capades.”
“Your moves? On the ice? Oh, please tell me you aren’t kidding.” She left her hand resting loosely in his as they waited for the elevator.
“I never kid about the Ice Capades. Or Duran Duran.”
The lingering fog of her nap dissipated as Julia watched the amusement flicker in his eyes. It seemed like his sense of adventure never ended, and just being in his presence was enough to awaken the nerve-endings she’d nearly forgotten even existed.
“I hope you wouldn’t kid about those things—I take my entertainment very seriously.”
“As you should, beautiful lady,” Martin said, punching the elevator button with the hand that wasn’t holding hers. “As you should.”
Julia and Martin stood in line to trade in their shoes for ice skates, which she laced up with a sense of wonder. She’d quickly stopped by her room and changed into the same jeans and light cardigan she’d worn to watch Dirty Dancing at night.
“Are we really ice skating?” Julia stood up and wobbled just slightly for second, trying to find her balance. It had been years since she’d been on ice skates; probably since Christina was a little girl. But as a child, she’d taken lessons and had loved being on the ice, so stepping out onto the rink felt as natural as grabbing a basketball might feel to someone who loved dribbling down the court.
“Whoa, you’re good,” Martin said, watching with awe as Julia got her footing and slid around the ice on her blades with ease.
“I’ll probably fall at least once, but I’m okay,” she said, trying to sound modest as she put her arms out to the sides and balanced on one foot, turning a neat figure eight on the ice.
“You’re more than good. You’re great,” Martin called out as he clung to the side of the rink.
“I thought you were ready for the Ice Capades,” Julia shouted back, skating toward him with her hands outstretched. Even though the weather outside was sunny and warm, the rink was chilled, and Martin’s nose was already reddening under the soft blue lights that bathed the cold rink in color. All around them, people in jeans and light sweatshirts fumbled and plodded around the rink laughing as they made clumsy turns and fell against one another.
“I thought I was ready,” Martin said, bent slightly at the waist as he held out his hands with hesitation, ready to grasp hers, “but I guess I need a little more practice.”
Queen’s “Somebody to Love�
� blared across the rink. Julia was about a foot away from Martin when he suddenly stood upright and pushed off from the wall, morphing from a trepidatious non-skater into someone who looked even more at home on a pair of skates than Julia.
“What?” she said, shocked to watch him cut around a group of uncoordinated people who threatened to crash right into him. “Are you serious?”
“Gotcha!” Martin called over his shoulder. “Ice Capades, here I come!”
“You are too, too much,” Julia muttered to herself, shaking her head as she laughed. “I’m coming!” she shouted, catching up with Martin as he made his first fluid loop around the ice rink.
“Keep up, Delmonico, will you?” Martin teased, grabbing her hand. “It’s couples’ skate and—“ he paused briefly as the song changed and a new one started, and then he waited for the chorus so he could chant “I wanna hold your hand,” along with the Beatles.
“Clever,” Julia allowed. “Very, very clever.”
“So clever.”
“You know,” Julia said, gliding alongside him, “you really keep me on my toes. I like it.”
Martin looked pleased. “I do?”
“Yeah.” Julia looked at him seriously. “I’m not used to that.”
“Hmm. Are we talking former relationships here?” The overhead lights gently melted from blue to pink, changing the feel of the rink and the color of the ice.
Julia shrugged, still holding his hand, her cold fingers wrapped in his. “I guess we are.” She pushed off of one foot, giving herself some forward momentum as they rounded the curve together. “I don’t normally talk about Will or my marriage…there’s really no need to.”
“And you don’t have to now—I just want that to be clear,” Martin said. “You definitely can, but I’m not prying.”
“No, no—I know you aren’t.” Julia put her free hand on his arm reassuringly. “I want to open up a bit. We’ve been spending a lot of time together these past few days, and—against my cupid’s wishes—I’ve really started to like you.”
“Your cupid? Are you talking about that guy with the—“ He pointed at his forehead and waved his finger around, “the perfect eyebrows?”
Hearts Ahoy Page 8
