by GA Hauser
CRUISING
Book Two of the
Men in Motion Series
G.A.HAUSER
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CRUSING
Book One of the Men in Motion Series
Copyright © G.A. HAUSER, 2010
Cover art by Stephanie Vaughan
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever with out written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Chapter One
“What do you mean you have something to do? The boat is going to leave in a few minutes.” Brodie Duncan stood near a mound of luggage at the port in Seattle. “Melanie, what on earth do you need to take care of that we can’t do once we’re onboard?”
“I don’t know, Brodie. Just something, okay? Do you have to know everything I need to do?”
“No. I don’t. But I may need to know what you have to do five minutes before this fricken cruise boat leaves.” Brodie knew she would freak out. The whole drive from Bellevue she had been quiet, evasive. Throwing up his hands, he asked, “Do you want to go with me on this cruise or not?”
“Yes!”
“Fine. Then grab your bag and let’s go.”
She was twirling her hair. He hated when she did that. It made her look like the definition of a dumb blonde. It didn’t matter that she was pretty. Somehow it paled when coupled with the personality flaws Brodie had to tolerate. The amount of whining he endured to book this cruise, the expense, taking time off from work when it was busy, well…for what? To see the spoiled Miss Melanie Hughley making a face in disgust at the idea of spending seven days with him on a boat. Life with her never made any sense.
“Come on.” He nudged her, heaving the heavy luggage to hand off to a porter. The bags were tagged and he walked up the gangplank with the so-called love of his life scuffing her high heels behind him.
Standing at the check-in desk, Brodie tried to get his temper under control as he handed the clerk his paperwork and identification. Turning around he asked, “Where’s your driver’s license?”
Melanie rolled her eyes, opened her designer purse, handing it to him. The clerk verified the ID, returning it quickly.
About to explode at her constant attitude of irritation, Brodie bit his lip, finished signing some paperwork, which included a copy of his credit card, handed back the pen, and moved aside for the next person in line. “Right. I need a drink.”
Melanie announced, “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”
“Fine. I’ll wait here.”
As she walked off in what appeared a huff, Brodie couldn’t figure out what he had done. She begged for a holiday on a boat. Well? Here they were on a damn cruise ship heading to Glacier Bay. Hadn’t he fulfilled his obligation?
“Excuse me.”
Brodie woke out of his dark thoughts to move aside for a man who was trying to pass by in the crowded lobby. Lord only knew how many human beings a ship this size could hold. Brodie checked his watch, growing impatient. How long does it take for a damn pee?
Noticing an open bench seat against the wall of the lobby, he dropped down on it wearily. The ship’s horn blasted loudly. Right after it had subsided, an announcement commenced that all those who were going ashore must disembark now.
Brodie rubbed his eyes and yawned. He was already exhausted, envisioning a nap before anything else. “Christ, Melanie? How long does it take to check your fucking make-up?”
Finally growing upset, he decided to actually find the ladies’ room entrance and wait outside. Down a long, narrow corridor, he located the door, leaning against the wall just outside it, arms crossed, trying to keep his demeanor calm instead of screaming at Melanie the minute she showed her face.
Another loud, basso horn blast sounded as well as a second announcement. They were about to set sail. Brodie wanted to stand on the outer promenade when they did. That was the idea, wasn’t it? Wave to the people left on shore, throw some confetti?
“This is unbelievable.” He stopped a woman as she stepped out of the ladies’ lounge. “Excuse me, miss? I was wondering, could you just tell me if my girlfriend is all right? It seems like she’s been inside there for a long while.”
“What does she look like?”
“Blonde, shoulder length hair, blue eyes, ah, I think she’s wearing a black blazer with a short skirt and high heels. Her name is Melanie.”
“Okay, I’ll call out her name.”
“Thanks. That’d be great.” Brodie smiled at her sweet gesture. A slight jerking and rumbling sensation passed over his body. He imagined the ship was being towed by a tug out of the port. “Man, I don’t want to miss that.” A few more seconds passed and the nice woman stepped out of the bathroom. “There doesn’t seem to be a Melanie in there.”
Brodie felt slightly disoriented and wondered if seasickness could kick in that quickly. “You sure?”
“As I can be. I called out her name, looked under the stalls, no one with blonde hair answered to that name.”
“I must have the wrong bathroom. Thanks anyway.” He hurried back to the lobby. Standing in the midst of a mound of tagged luggage all being transported to the cabins by a very efficient crew, Brodie spun around like a top, trying to remember which direction Melanie had taken. Growing frustrated, he removed his cell phone from his pocket, stepped outside for better service, and dialed her phone number about to scream in fury at her disappearing act.
The boat was indeed pushing back from the dock. A crowd of people waved goodbye from the shore. “Hello, Melanie? Where the hell are you? Which bathroom did you use?”
“I’m sorry, Brodie.”
“Sorry about what?”
“I couldn’t do it.”
A sensation of dizziness followed the comment. “Couldn’t do what?”
“Go. I couldn’t go on the cruise with you.”
“What?” He rushed to the edge to look for her on the dock. “Are you telling me you’re not on this goddamn boat?”
“No. I can see you standing at the rail.”
Squinting, trying to discern her from the rest of the crowd, he finally noticed a blonde wearing a black blazer. “Why? Why did you do this to me? I don’t get it. You begged me for this trip. I took time off. Melanie, what the hell is going on?”
“I just don’t love you anymore.”
“You tell me that now?” he shouted, noticed someone near him looking at him strangely, and lowered his voice. “I’m standing on a cruise ship, Melanie, by myself, leaving on a holiday that was supposed to be ours.”
“I know. Sorry, Brodie.”
“Sorry? Sorry?” He was raising his voice again.
“I have to go. I just flagged down a cab. Enjoy the vacation, Brodie, you need it. Did anyone ever tell you that even though you’re good looking, you’re very high strung?”
Before he could roar his retort, she disconnected. There was the leggy blonde running on her spiked heels, waving at a yellow cab.
Watching in utter amazement, Brodie felt like a bride being left at the altar, utterly humiliated. “How did I not see this coming?” Shoving the phone into his pocket, he suddenly realized he could not get off the ship and was literally stuck on this floating island with thousands of strangers. “I need a goddamn drink.”
Taking the room key out of his pocket, he read the number of his state room, wondering where
the hell it was. Numb, wandering against the flow of happy couples and squealing children, Brodie hoped the bars would be serving. Navigating the hallways as the boat seemed to rock side to side, Brodie mumbled, “My luck I’ll get seasick.” Passing a dark casino, café, and dance club, Brodie found that everything was closed off at the moment. “Great.”
Brodie headed to an elevator, taking his paperwork out of his pocket to find a map of the place. “Right, main floor. Where the hell’s that?” Seeing it was three floors below the lobby area, he disregarded the crowded elevator and opted for the staircase. Down three floors was no problem, but walking the length of two football fields to his room amazed him. It was as if someone had laid the Empire State Building on its side and he was moving from base to tip. The sheer size of the cruise ship was astounding. He had no idea they were so enormous. Stopping at a door, he read his key, the room number, and slipped the credit card like object into a slot. The light turned green and he pushed back the door. A tiny cabin, two single beds, a table and chair, closet, and bathroom came into view. No porthole. Those rooms were a fortune. Besides, he thought, how much time would they spend in the room anyway? Melanie had stopped fucking him as well. Who needed a view to fall asleep?
Tossing the keycard on the table, his bags already efficiently placed near the bed, Brodie noticed Melanie’s beside his. “Great.” Lifting it to shove aside, he shook it and heard something rattle. Out of curiosity he rested it on one of the beds and unzipped it. “Holy shit.” The bag was filled with newspapers. “You bitch! You had me lug a sack of crap all over the damn place for you?” Dropping down on the bed, Brodie realized that Melanie never meant to go on this trip with him even as he waited at her apartment door when she handed him the bag. “Why the hell didn’t you just tell me then?” He was completely confused. Taking out his mobile phone, he noticed there was no signal in the bowels of the boat. He threw it on the bed, flopped down next to it, stared at the ceiling, and now, more than ever, felt the boat listing side to side. “I don’t believe this is happening. What the hell did I do to deserve this?”
Chapter Two
He hadn’t realized he’d dozed. Opening his eyes, checking his watch, Brodie felt his stomach grumble. Maybe now that they’d been at sea for more than an hour, everything would be manned and available. The gentle swaying of the boat was messing up his balance. “I hope I can get used to this.”
Standing, checking his wallet for cash, he entered the small, clean, well equipped bathroom to pee and wash his face. Holding the wall to make sure he didn’t miss the toilet as the boat listed, Brodie shook his head in frustration. “A whole week of this shit. Not peeing straight. And I haven’t even had a goddamn drink yet!” Brodie managed to finish without splashing the floor and flushed the commode, washing his hands and face at the sink. Checking his reflection in the mirror, seeing his hair slightly disheveled from his nap, he wet his hands and ran his fingers through his thick brown mane, trying to tame it. He needed a shave. Having woken up early to get them to the port on time, he figured he’d do it once on board. Melanie constantly whined if his face wasn’t closely shaven. “You’re scratchy. Don’t, it hurts.”
Shivering at the recollection of that horrible beast who had left him on a cruise ship and ran off like a coward, Brodie stood tall, filling the tiny space and told himself. “Just because you’re not here, Mel, doesn’t mean I’m not going to get laid.”
Shutting off the light, he picked up his key and surveyed the map of the boat. There were bars on four of the levels. He couldn’t miss. Walking away from his cabin, back towards the lobby check-in desk, Brodie noticed signs directing him to the lounges and casino. Passing the silent, unoccupied roulette tables and one-armed bandits, he continued on his way, trying to walk straight down the hall with the constant movement of the ship under his feet. A crowded bar came into view. “Bingo.” He gave the interior a quick survey, noticing one section of gray-haired people, and another of very young twenty-somethings. Knowing he fell slightly above the latter and way below the former, he had no idea where to go. And being single sucked. A lone stool stood vacant at the bar. He sat down, wondering how long it would take for the rest of the passengers to figure out he was the lonesome loser on the trip.
“What can I get for you, sir?”
“Yes, uh, a glass of scotch please, make it a double.”
“On the rocks?’
“Straight up.”
“Your room number, sir?”
“Oh.” He pulled out his key. “Here.”
The man nodded, wrote out a receipt, had Brodie sign it, and handed him a copy. Brodie shoved it into his shirt pocket. Sipping the strong alcohol, he imagined running up quite the bar tab for this little venture, but at least he wouldn’t be buying duty-free perfume and cosmetics for the spoiled brat.
Since he was nearer to the outside of the ship than he had been in his room, Brodie took out his mobile phone from his pocket. He did get a signal. Dialing, standing up and moving to the entrance of the club where he could talk privately, he waited for it to connect.
“Brodie?”
“Hey, Paden.”
“What’s going on? I thought you were supposed to be going on vacation.”
“She left me. I’m on the stinkin’ boat and she ditched me.” When silence followed, Brodie took another sip of the strong liquid. “You there, Paden?”
“I knew it.”
“You knew it? What the hell do you mean, you knew it?”
“Brodie, she’s horrible. I have no idea what you saw in that woman.”
“Now you tell me? You’re my best fucking friend and now you tell me?” Brodie lowered his voice again. It was too crowded for anything that resembled real privacy. “Couldn’t you have mentioned that before I got stuck on this ship?”
“You wouldn’t have listened. I’m telling you, Brodie, women are trouble. Especially the trophy bimbo types you end up with.”
“My gay friend is telling me about the trouble with women.” Brodie finished the scotch in another gulp, shivering at the burn.
“You’d be better off with men.”
“I would be. I’m starting to believe that, Paden. Maybe you should have come with me instead.”
“Uh, I don’t think Tim would understand.”
“He wouldn’t mind. I would just borrow you. To experiment with.” Brodie had a quick look around the area.
“Mr. Duncan, don’t you go getting bi-curious on me.”
“Why the hell not? A lot of good being heterosexual’s got me. I’m standing in a damn bar, getting drunk on my lonesome, on my way to fucking Ketchikan!” Tipping the glass so the last drop hit his tongue, Brodie licked at it, then sighed, “I’m a sad fucking bastard, Paden. A sad bastard.”
“Shut up. Go find a single woman and screw her brains out. You’ll never see those people again.”
“I should find a fucking man. I swear, you never seem to have any problems with your relationship, Paden. Just me.”
“A man? What the hell are you talking about? You’re a womanizer, Brodie! But the women you choose suck.”
Brodie heard some static on the line. “You’re fading out on me.”
“Just have fun! You needed a vacation. Go a little crazy.”
“I will.”
“I want a full report.”
“Goodbye, Paden. I can barely hear you.” Disconnecting the phone, Brodie looked at the display. “No signal” showed on the LCD panel. He turned it off, stuffed it back in his pocket, scanning the dim bar. “He’s right. I have the wrong taste in women. I’m sure as hell sick of prima donna pussy.”
Requesting a second double, shooting it down, Brodie felt the alcohol go to his head due to his empty stomach. Adding to the fuzziness of his brain was the constant movement of the boat under his feet. Setting the empty glass on the bar, Brodie headed to the outside deck to get some fresh air. Up one flight, out a heavy metal door, he stood at the rail as the mega ocean liner cut through the water towards t
he coast of Canada and Vancouver like a schooner. The wind blew cold, being the first week of May, and he soon became too chilly to stand there without a coat. As he walked along the promenade, couples were everywhere, holding hands, kissing, playing with small children. He felt as if he stood out from the rest, simply by his lack of someone attached to his elbow. I’ll bet the only solo men on this boat are the crew. He should do it. Find a man to play with. Did he want to screw an employee?
“Oh, just face it, Brodie, you’re on your own. Deal with it.” He found his way back to his room, ordered a club sandwich, and ate it alone.
Lying back on the narrow single bed to sulk, he moaned, “Life really sucks at the moment.” He rubbed his eyes, trying not to well up emotionally. Two double scotches in his veins weren’t helping matters. But as he revisited the entire chain of events that led to him being single on a cruise, he felt his chest tighten. How many failed relationships did this make? He’d lost count. Paden was wrong, he wasn’t a womanizer. He didn’t cheat on them. He just couldn’t relate to them on a deep level. But Paden was right in one aspect, his choice in women sucked. But that was where he ended up all the time. Trophy types. Why?
Brodie crushed the pillow under his head, staring at the walls of the tiny cabin, hearing the hum of the ship’s enormous engines. He imagined Paden and Tim having sex. They were both very good looking men. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about those two kissing or sucking each other. Thinking of men having sex was the only way he could get himself off. Wasn’t that a clue?
He didn’t know many straight men who were close friends with gay men. And most certainly didn’t have a best friend who was gay. “Oh, Brodie,” he sighed, rubbing his rough jaw. “Just do it. Stop fighting it because you’re afraid of what everyone will think of you.”
But thinking about doing it, and actually finding the kind of man he wanted to touch, that was a different story. It wasn’t going to just be any man. It had to be a particular type. Well, shit, if I’m going to do it, I’m going to do it with someone I am turned on by.
