Four Nights at Sea

by Demi Alex

  “How is my favorite girl?”

  “Emily is well. Gorgeous as ever, and acing every one of her classes.”

  “That’s my Em,” he said, truly proud of his little sister. With an apologetic tilt of his head, he raised a finger and asked Eugenia to wait. “My baby girl is too important to rush over. I want to hear all the details. School. Swim team. Everything. Let’s wait till we’re seated so we can have a proper conversation.”

  The hostess walked up and he requested a table on the patio, noticing that the only available table on said patio happened to be directly behind Charlie. He pulled out Eugenia’s chair and adjusted his seat so that he could enjoy the view. Long, blond waves rested on her slight shoulders, which were thankfully exposed—unlike the majority of what he believed to be her soft and pale skin.

  His gaze trailed down her spine to a shapely backside, which graciously blessed that lucky seat. What a shame for such beautiful curves to be hidden beneath a matronly golf... what the fuck was that thing called . . . skort and such a roomy sleeveless polo. He concentrated on her arms and calves. They were certainly worth major appreciation. Ford settled back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest, and smiled.

  The waiter poured sparkling water into their glasses, and they ordered their meals and drinks. He glanced at the great woman at his side, wondering how his father had managed to fuck up everything with her.

  “Sugar, you’re rather preoccupied,” Eugenia said. She pointed at Charlie while scooting her chair toward his, close enough to whisper. “How about coming clean and telling your favorite stepmother how you two know each other?”

  “There’s nothing to come clean about. We literally bumped into each other just before you arrived. Your imagination has shifted into overdrive. Romance, romance, romance,” he teased in a low voice. “But you are my favorite stepmother.”

  “And you’re my favorite stepson.”

  “Your only stepson,” he reminded. “Now tell my about the little princess.”

  “She’s not so little, Keaton. Emily is turning thirteen next month, and she needs her big brother around. She misses you,” Eugenia said, accepting a mojito and stirring it graciously. “Isn’t your contract almost over?”

  “It’s technically over. The final sailings are a bonus. I need the financial padding to make the café happen and grow properly,” he admitted. “If not, I may be delayed on the first store, and the second store expansion will be at least a year behind schedule.” He knew what was coming next, so he braced himself.

  “Just come home,” Eugenia said.

  “Em’s birthday is in March,” he pointed out. He covered Eugenia’s perfectly manicured hand and looked her directly in the eyes. “I’ll be in Louisiana for Emily’s party, but I’m not coming home, as you put it. I’m disembarking in Miami, visiting with friends for a few days, then flying straight to New York. You’re well aware of my plans. I need to wait for the returns from my bonus check to finalize the details before I can truly get anything off the ground. Just have my back with Em. I don’t want her to feel neglected while I concentrate on my business plan.”

  “But you don’t have to do all that. Your father has come around. He wants to finance your venture. You don’t need to go back to your old boss and struggle on your own. Let your father help. He misses you, and he regrets the grad school incident. He’s even willing to pay off your student loans and give you a clean slate for the future. Accept his apology and move past this all. You’ve made your point.” Eugenia pulled her hand from beneath his and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, flashing him an earnest and dazzling smile. “Let your father help you build your java empire.”

  Ford shook his head. No matter how good a heart Eugenia had, she had a true weakness when it came to the stability she believed money afforded. Knowing the details of her tumultuous childhood, he understood. But it wasn’t that way for him. Security didn’t come from money. It came from his abilities and only his abilities. Money was a by-product.

  “You know I love you, sweetheart.” Ford switched their hands back to the original position. “You’ve been my best friend since high school. You’ve grown into the best mother a child could want. Hell, as a young bride, you were the best wife to my father. Actually, you still are.”

  “Ex-wife,” she interjected. “Your father is a horrible husband, but he is a devoted, caring, and loving daddy. Possibly a good friend. Even if he’s overbearing.”

  Choosing not to argue and upset her, he nodded. “You deserve honesty, so I’ll be blunt. Not only do I not need the cover of the Keaton Fitzgerald Rutherford legal and financial umbrella, I don’t want it. I’m not holding anything against Dad for not paying for my MBA. I actually appreciate that. It taught me that I could rely on myself and still get what I want.”

  “But the loans—”

  “The loans are paid off, Eugenia,” Ford explained. “They’ve been paid off.” He decided to explain his choices and put her mind at ease. “Working on a cruise liner afforded me the opportunity to live very inexpensively. My rent, my food, almost all my living expenses were covered by the job. I was able to not only pay off the student loans, but to accumulate a nice savings.”

  “But that can’t be enough, Keaton.” This was the pragmatic part of Eugenia.

  He met her gaze, and words were not necessary to communicate.

  “You invested your earnings and have made a nice profit?” She guessed correctly, but was courteous enough to put it in the form of a question.

  “You know I did,” he replied. It was true that some of his investments were riskier than others, but the payoffs had outweighed the risks. “I’m good to go, sweetheart. In just a few more weeks, I’ll be okay. And if an investment pays off, as I believe it will, with my upcoming bonus I’ll be able to act quickly and with less expense. That’s why I’m staying on for the next two sailings. This bonus pay is separate from what I’ve already planned on and so is the profit it will yield.”

  “You have balls of steel, Keaton Fitzgerald Rutherford III,” she cooed, laughter in her voice and admiration in her eyes. “You’re still making it to Emily’s birthday.”

  “You couldn’t keep me away if you tried. I’ll take any excuse to see my favorite girls,” he said, leaning in and placing a kiss on the center of her forehead. “Now that you know I won’t be asking you to clip buy-one-get-one-free peanut butter coupons for me, can you stop doing my father’s bidding so we can enjoy our breakfast?”

  Chapter Three

  Ford scanned the bill, making sure Charlie’s breakfast was included as he’d instructed, then slipped his credit card into the folder.

  “So, when will I get an invitation to visit you in Manhattan?” Eugenia asked, after they’d caught up on Emily’s accomplishments and schedule.

  “Never,” Ford replied, reaching into a pocket for the square envelope and sliding it across the table to Eugenia. “You never need an invitation. Just use your keys.”

  “You’re giving me keys to your apartment?” Eugenia’s hand covered her heart and moisture shined in her eyes. “I could never impose and walk in on you like that. What if I’m crashing on the couch and you bring a lady friend home?”

  “Not happening.” Ford laughed at the image of Eugenia ever “crashing” on the couch. “Don’t worry about that. There’s a second bedroom. The contractors are putting the finishing touches on Emily’s bubblegum explosion as we speak. It will be ready for you to use any time after Monday.”

  “Wow, Keat—”

  “Ford,” he corrected.

  “Ford,” she relented, a tiny line of disapproval forming on her perfect forehead. “You must be paying a pretty penny in rent in order for your landlord to be so accommodating.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Having you in my life makes any amount of money worth it. Come whenever you want,” he said, brushing his thumb over her forehead to ease what she’d consider a horrifying potential wrinkle. “You never have to crash on the couch.”

/>   “You really have done well, Keat—Ford,” she corrected herself. “Not that I ever doubted what you could do, but it must be difficult starting up like this. I admire you.”

  He simply nodded, modestly appreciating her awe. “Thank you, Eugenia.” He placed a loving kiss on her cheek. “I’m serious. You use these keys anytime you want. The alarm information is on the card. It’s your city crash pad.”

  She pulled the card from the envelope and two keys dropped onto the table. Reading the information on the white cardstock, she hooted. “I have a city crash pad,” she said, clutching the keys to her chest. “You make me feel like more than family. Thank—” She stopped mid-sentence and smiled up at an approaching Charlie. “Hi. How was your breakfast?”

  “It was delicious. Thank you,” Charlie replied graciously, before turning her attention and not-so-angelic gaze on Ford. “When I asked for my check, the waiter told me there was no check to bring me.”

  Ford grinned, but didn’t speak. Why would she be annoyed?

  “Perhaps it’s included in the room rate,” Eugenia offered.

  “Perhaps,” Charlie said, smiling at his stepmother but not at him. “But the waiter didn’t ask for my room information. And he claimed it was taken care of anonymously.”

  “Busted. And with pleasure,” Ford said. “It’s the least I could do after I ran you over earlier.” He raised his hands, palms up, to demonstrate she’d left him no choice. “Come on. Give a guy a chance to apologize.”

  “I ran into you.”

  He shook his head and shrugged. “Not how I remember it.”

  A dainty finger swirled through a blond tendril and a pensive look colored her face. If she could look any prettier than she had on first bump, she did just that as her shoulders relaxed and she smiled. “Apology accepted. Thank you.”

  “Good,” Eugenia said, clasping her hands together. “Now you two go grab a taxi and get on to the port. Don’t let him off the hook so easy, Charlie. He should at least deliver you to your ship.”

  Charlie blushed and shifted from foot to foot. “Um.”

  “Good idea, sweetheart.” Ford squeezed Eugenia’s shoulder and kissed her cheek. The woman was a genius. He owed her. He stood and looked down at her. “Are you okay getting back to the condo on your own?”

  “Just fine,” she assured, tapping the side of his thigh. “Get going.”

  “Love you,” he said, walking toward Charlie, who stood silently, her lips parted, twirling a finger in her hair at a hundred miles a minute. “Ready?”

  * * *

  Charlie stared at the beautiful and confident woman who had just delivered the most attractive man she’d ever met into her hands. Unable to understand her reasoning, she simply nodded at Ford. Once he stepped up next to her and placed his hand in the small of her back, she once again searched Eugenia’s face for permission.

  “Go on, sugars. Enjoy your cruises.”

  “Thank you,” Charlie replied dumbfounded. Either the other woman had an extraterrestrial amount of confidence or she considered Charlie totally repulsive and no competition. But the polite bombshell smiled too sweetly to be thinking of anything as nasty as that. It didn’t make sense. Taking a deep breath, Charlie sucked in her stomach and let Ford lead her away, looking over her shoulder and waving to the other woman.

  He kept his hand on her back as they walked, and the contact heated her skin, keeping her well aware of the effect his presence had on her. She had a few seconds of relief only when they’d reached the lobby and he stopped walking. She didn’t slow, though, and moved ahead of him. His fingers closed on her wrist and pulled her back. “Do we need to collect your luggage, Charlie?”

  “Oh,” she breathed. She felt her cheeks heat once again. What the hell was it with all the blushing? Nervous laughter bubbled up in her chest and slipped past her lips. She shrugged, then corrected her reaction by straightening her back and glancing at the bellhop area. “Yes. That would help. Guess I’m excited to get on the ship.”

  Ford took her hand in his. “Excited about the cruise or the article?”

  “Both,” she replied, wondering how this guy was so sure she’d accept his touch and manhandling. Even more perplexing was the fact that she didn’t just allow it; she liked the way his fingers tangled in hers. She settled her hand into his much larger one and enjoyed the way his thumb feathered over the back of her palm, coaxing her to complete her answer. “I think it’s more about getting the byline. I need to establish myself as a journalist. My own feature will go a long way in proving I’m capable of a writing career.”

  “I get it,” he replied, and she believed him.

  Handing her claim ticket to the attendant, she collected her sensibility and looked up at the man with the strong dark features she was so inexplicably drawn to. “Sorry. I’ve just met you, and I’m imposing on your courtesy by professing career goals.”

  “Definitely don’t apologize. I want to hear about your goals.”

  She decided not to reply and searched for the dollar bills she’d tucked in the outside pocket of her laptop case. But when the bellhop appeared with her bag, Ford immediately handed him a tip and reached for the handle.

  “Let’s go and get you one step closer to that goal.” He led them out the front door and arranged for the taxi.

  Seated in the back of the car, with her carry-on stowed in the trunk, she rested her laptop case against her thigh.

  “You have an accent, but it’s not real heavy, and I can’t place it,” she said.

  “I was born and raised in New Orleans, but I spent a significant amount of time away from home when I was real young,” he explained. “After I finished my bachelor’s degree at Tulane, I moved to New York for grad school. So my Louisiana accent may be a bit diluted.”

  That explained his over-amorous personality. It was Southern hospitality, with a twist of old-world chivalry and a splash of arrogant male. Charlie needed to get control of her hormones and remember that this specific man belonged to another woman. Retrieving her iPhone from the pocket, she barricaded herself behind her Kate Spade case, then nodded and looked out the window.

  “Makes sense,” she said, continuing to concentrate on the steady stream of palm trees lining the street and pretending more interest in the gorgeous landscape than in the man at her side. “Did you choose a career with the cruise industry because you grew up near the Gulf?”

  She could do this. She was a professional. Tapping the screen on her phone, she navigated to the notes section and her list of questions for the ship’s staff. Asking him anything from the list was more like an interview than personal interest. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Sure, keep telling yourself that.

  “I didn’t choose a career in the cruise industry. It’s a job, a means to an end.” She felt his gaze on her back and the tingles dancing beneath it. “I have two more sailings and I’m done. Then, real life begins.”

  Unable to resist, she peeked over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

  “Coming out of grad school, I was loaded down with debt.” He shrugged very matter of fact. “I needed experience in food service management to advance my career objectives. I started a job, not a career, on board in order to make enough money to climb out of debt and gain the necessary experience. I did. Now I’m ready to move on.”

  “To what?” She turned in her seat, meeting his gaze.

  “Something of my own.” His deep voice held a pensive note, but his posture was determined. “Sometimes you just need to break away and do what you want. Right?”

  “I guess,” she stammered, wondering who exactly he was talking about. Did he know her? Was she that easy to read? She needed to break away. She had. But she still hadn’t gained what she wanted. “Does Eugenia support your decision?”

  “I believe so.”

  “You don’t know?” Stunned with her own reaction to his nonchalant attitude, she barely managed to hide the astonishment in her voice. Maybe his Southern chivalry wasn’t
chivalry after all. Maybe he was a narcissistic chauvinist who believed only a man’s advancement mattered.

  His masculine chuckle shook her from her reverie, and he stroked the back of his finger down her cheek, capturing her chin and guiding her to look at him. Meeting his amused gaze, the embarrassment of a wrong assumption bloomed in her gut.

  “I think you may have the wrong impression of my relationship with Eugenia. She’s special to me, but not as I think you believe. If I was romantically involved with anyone, or I was in an exclusive relationship, I wouldn’t be wanting to touch you so much,” Ford said, staring at her mouth as he spoke. “I wouldn’t be obsessed with your lips, and I certainly wouldn’t be wondering if they would yield and accept my kiss.”

  “Oh,” she breathed, realizing she’d been holding her breath. She exhaled.

  “Tell me what you thought,” he insisted, still holding her chin and leaning forward to bring his mouth to within inches of hers. “I want the right to call on you when I arrive in New York. In order to have such a right, we need to clear the air. I want no pretense. No mistaken ideas.”

  Her heart hammered in her chest. He wanted the right to call on her.

  “Unless, of course, you’re in a committed relationship.” His fingers traced over her left hand and skimmed the space where a ring would have been if she were off limits. “Unless you didn’t feel what I did when I rudely, but thankfully, ran into you.”

  She shook her head.

  “Tell me. Vocalize. I want inside that beautiful mind,” he insisted.

  “I assumed she was your wife or your girlfriend.” Charlie’s hold tightened on her phone, and she glanced down at her white fingertips.

  “Neither,” he replied, peeling the phone from her grasp. He tapped the dark screen and typed into it. “Eugenia is a friend and one of the stepmothers my father brought into our home. Actually, you can say I brought her home. Father married her. Eugenia and I have been friends since high school. And even though we are very close, we have never been anything but friends, and we will never be more than platonic family. But I understand your assumption. She and I are little more than a year apart in age, so she’s more like a sister to me than a stepmother. More importantly, she’s the mother of my baby sister. The only sibling I’m aware of and the princess of my heart.”