“I was going to make it a naked picnic.”
Jack struggled to hide his smirk … and failed miserably. “You’re on.”
“Does that mean punishment is over?”
“That means you’ve got a lot of work to do this afternoon to get off punishment,” Jack clarified. “I’m thinking it should start with a massage … and food that doesn’t include the feet mushrooms.”
“Deal.” Ivy extended her hand and caused Jack to chuckle.
“Oh, I’m going to want more than that.” Jack tugged her to him and planted a hard kiss on her lips. “Here comes the punishment, honey.”
“I’m ready for it.”
“That makes two of us.”
Wicked Seas
An Ivy Morgan and Rowan Gray Mystery
One
Jack Harker tilted his head to the side as he looked at his girlfriend’s version of a bathing suit and debated what to say.
“Um ... .”
Ivy Morgan, her brown hair streaked with pink, wrinkled her nose as she fingered the fraying straps on the simple one-piece suit. “I guess I should’ve thought about this before you surprised me with news of the trip, huh?”
Jack cocked his head to the side. “I don’t know. You could start a new trend on the cruise ship. You know ... hobo chic.”
Ivy’s expression was rueful. “I think I’m stuck with it. We fly out early tomorrow. There’s no place in town to get a new bathing suit.”
“Yes, well ... .” Jack delicately took the ragged clothing item from her and tossed it in the corner trash bin. “You’re not wearing that.”
“Then I’m swimming naked. On a cruise ship with thousands of people, that might get uncomfortable.”
When Jack surprised Ivy with a vacation a few weeks before — one they both desperately needed after months of drama and danger — she’d been unbelievably excited. It was only after thinking it through that he realized she’d never really been on vacation. She’d never been away from Shadow Lake for more than short jaunts. She’d certainly never been on a cruise ship. When that realization hit hard and strong, Jack decided he was going to make this trip the best it could possibly be for his future bride — a pre-honeymoon honeymoon, if you will — and he was determined to see that through.
“It’s a cruise ship, honey. They have bathing suits in the shops located right on the ship.”
“They do?” Ivy didn’t know why she was surprised. It made sense. Still ... . “They’re not like tiny little bikinis that don’t have proper coverage for butts, right?”
Love swamped Jack at the oddest of times, but the rush that coursed through him thanks to the worried look on her face was enough to knock him back a step. “They’ll have something you like. I promise. The ship we’re going on has something like fifteen stores, I think. You’ll find something you can live with ... and I will buy it for you as a vacation gift.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Ivy cast a look to the discarded bathing suit. “I wish I would’ve thought about this sooner. I’m not much of a bathing suit person.”
“I noticed.” He stroked his hand down her slim back, his lips curving when he sensed the unease pooling between her shoulder blades. “Honey, do you want to tell me what’s bugging you?”
The question caught Ivy off guard. “Why do you think something is bugging me?”
“Because we’ve been together for a year and I’m familiar with your moods. I thought you were looking forward to this trip.”
“I am,” Ivy said hastily, grabbing his wrist and staring hard into his eyes. “I’m so excited for this trip I don’t even know where to start when it comes to packing. It’s just ... I’ve never been on a ship before. I don’t know what to pack. I mean ... are my clothes even right?”
Jack wasn’t used to Ivy being unsure of herself. Of all the women he’d met throughout his life, she had the best sense of self — a confident but not egotistical way of carrying herself — and her sudden self-doubt was maddening. “Honey, your clothes are fine. All those ankle-length skirts flooding your closet? They’re good. You don’t have a lot of shorts, but that’s fine. Basically you need a bathing suit, a cover-up, and something to wear for dinner each night. That’s it.”
“Right.” Ivy tapped her bottom lip as she surveyed the suitcase they were packing. It was huge, big enough to fit all the items both of them would need, but Ivy was convinced she was going to fill it with the wrong things and that would somehow ruin their trip. “Maybe I should run to Traverse City. They have a twenty-four-hour department store. We should put together a list of things we need.”
Jack snagged her by the back of the neck before she could get a full head of steam and lose the packing momentum they’d worked so hard to establish. “No. We have everything we need. We’ve made lists for two weeks straight — and checked them for two weeks straight — and now we’re going to pack. We have to be up in six hours. Frankly, we should’ve done this earlier.”
“I know. It’s just ... .” She trailed off when her black cat Nicodemus hopped into the middle of the suitcase and plopped himself down, immediately washing his flank instead of meeting Jack’s challenging gaze.
“We’re not taking him,” Jack interjected the moment Ivy opened her mouth. “I’m not kidding. He is not cruise-friendly. Heck, he’s not Jack-friendly.” As if to prove his point, Jack reached out a finger and waved it in Nicodemus’s face. The cat responded by swatting him hard enough to nick skin.
“Ow.” Jack slipped his sore finger into his mouth. “That hurt.”
“I like how you messed with him until he reacted and now you’re acting as if you’re the wounded party,” Ivy said dryly, shaking her head. For some reason, Jack’s ridiculous relationship with the cat — something that was an everyday occurrence — settled her. “You’re right, though. I’m going off the rails. I don’t care what people think about my clothes. I never have.”
Jack slid her a sidelong look. “That’s one of my favorite things about you.”
“Yeah, well, it’s one of my favorite things about me, too. I have no idea why I’m being like this.”
“I do.” Jack abandoned his finger ministrations and slung an arm over her shoulders. Ivy was tall for a woman — slim and lovely, too — but Jack still towered over her by several inches. “You’ve never traveled to a real destination before. You don’t know what to do with yourself because you’re so excited it’s futzing up that busy brain of yours.”
“I’ve traveled before,” Ivy countered, her eyes flashing.
“When?”
“My parents took Max and me to the Upper Peninsula camping when we were kids.”
Jack fought the urge to laugh ... and lost. “So you drove three hours north and camped for a week? That’s not the same thing, honey.”
“I know but ... it’s not as if I’m some country bumpkin. You don’t have to wow me with bright lights and a big city.”
“Oh, is that what you think?” Jack tightened his grip on her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know you’re not a country bumpkin. I happen to think it’s cute how excited you are for the trip. No, I mean it. Ever since I surprised you with it, you’ve been a mass of moods. Thankfully those moods are kind of adorable.”
Instead of immediately responding, Ivy heaved out a sigh. She knew he was right. Her head was all over the place. She’d never been one to lose her mind over simple things ... but here she was losing her mind over a bathing suit.
“What are you thinking?” Jack asked after a beat.
“That I hope they have nice bathing suits on the ship.” The smile Ivy graced Jack with was blinding. “What’s the name of the ship again?”
“The Bounding Storm.”
“That’s kind of a neat name.”
“I like it, too.” Jack’s fingers were gentle on the nape of her neck as he worked to lull her. “We have a loft suite. I’m not quite sure what that is, but I’ve seen photos, and it looks nice.”
“I’ve h
eard cruise ship rooms are terrible.”
“Yes, but this ship is supposed to be top-of-the-line and these suites are significant upgrades.”
“And how did you get the upgrade again?”
“I know a guy.”
Ivy smirked. “I guess it’s better than you knowing a girl.”
“There’s only one girl in my life.” He poked her side before wrapping his arms around her and kissing her cheek. “I happen to love my one girl.” His voice was barely a whisper.
“I love you, too. I’m sorry I’ve been so crazy about this. I can’t seem to help myself, though.”
“I don’t mind that you’re crazy.” Jack rubbed his hands over her back, the simple motion relaxing her. “I’m thrilled that we can do this together. It’s a first for both of us.”
“Yeah.” Ivy briefly pressed her eyes shut as she rested her ear against his chest. “We still need to pack.”
“We do.”
“I’m probably going to melt down five more times before we hit the ship.”
“I’m well aware.”
“I’ll be better when we get there.”
“Honey, we’re going to have so much fun all these packing meltdowns are going to be nothing but a funny story we tell people when making them listen to tall tales about our vacation adventures for years to come.”
“That’s the plan.” Ivy lifted her chin and gave him a quick kiss. “We need to finish packing. Then we need to go to bed so we can get on the road early.”
“You mean you need to get to your next meltdown.”
“True enough.”
“Let’s do it.” He cupped the back of her head and kissed her hard. “In twenty-four hours, we’ll be in our fancy loft suite and looking forward to tropical drinks as we watch the sun set.”
“Bring it on.”
“There’s my girl.”
ROWAN GRAY SAT ON THE beach building a sandcastle as her boyfriend Quinn Davenport scoured the security report for their next cruise. The sun had set hours before, but the beach was well lit and Rowan had no trouble seeing through the darkness to design her castle.
“What’s tomorrow’s cruise entail again?” Rowan asked as she used her fingernail to fashion a turret.
“It’s a mix,” Quinn replied, his full attention on the packet as he rested his back against a picnic bench. “Half the ship is regular guests — which is a nice break after all the theme cruises we stacked one after the other — and the other half is some political group.”
Rowan wrinkled her nose. “Political group? Like a senator or something?”
“No. That would be easier to deal with. It’s one of those mission groups who have a cause they’re trying to raise awareness about.”
“Oh.” Understanding washed over Rowan as she used the back of her dirty hand to brush her auburn hair away from her face. “Like ending animal testing or sexual harassment in the workplace, right?”
“Kind of.” Quinn lifted his eyes and smirked at her castle. “That one is ... unique. What’s with the high tower?”
“That’s where we live so we can get away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the castle.”
“That sounds like a good plan.”
“I’m full of good plans,” Rowan confirmed.
“Hmm.” Quinn’s attention slid back to the packet. As security chief for The Bounding Storm, it was his job to identify and head off any issues that might cause problems over their upcoming excursion.
Rowan watched him a moment, amused, and then abandoned her castle so she could crawl closer and see what had snagged his attention. Usually when they came to the beach the night before a cruise, he was all about her. This evening, it was almost as if he’d forgotten she was even there.
“Hey.” Her voice was low and throaty as she snuggled closer, taking him by surprise. “Do you want me to head back to the ship so you can be alone with your friend?”
“What?” Quinn cocked an eyebrow, confused. “What did you say, sweetheart?” He reluctantly dragged his eyes away from the report and focused on her.
“Oh, I feel so loved,” Rowan drawled, teasing. “I asked if you wanted me to leave.”
“Why would I want that?”
“Because you’re obviously more interested in that report than me.”
“That’s not true.” Quinn slid an arm around Rowan’s back and maneuvered her lithe body so she was positioned between his legs. Then he proceeded to turn back to the report. “It’s just ... this is weird.”
Rowan tried to follow what Quinn was looking at, the light from the parking lot illuminating the pages, but she wasn’t sure what the report actually said. “I don’t know what this means.” She pointed toward the top of the page. “What’s the National Organization for Clean Minds and Hearts?”
“A really long name for a group.”
“Ha, ha.” Rowan made an exaggerated face and poked his side. “I’m serious. I’ve never heard of that group. Are they a cult?”
Quinn laughed despite himself. “Not a cult ... at least not exactly a cult. That might be more entertaining. It’s a coalition that has gained attention thanks to support by several famous individuals — one of whom is married to a senator and another who is married to one of those mega-rich pastors you see on television — and the organizers have started a crusade to clean up the media.”
Rowan rested her head against Quinn’s chest as she ran the information through her head. “I’m not sure I understand,” she admitted after a beat. “How are they going to clean up the media? Are they going to fine newscasters or something?”
“Not that media,” he chuckled. “I’m talking about movies, books, and television shows. This group wants to limit pornography, violence on television, and fine the creators of any movie with cursing.”
It took Rowan a moment to absorb the news. “Huh.”
“That’s all you have to say?” Quinn was amused. “The queen of the bad horror movie is fine with the idea of blood-free schlock? What are we going to do when a storm hits and you can’t reenact Jason Voorhees’s camp massacres? Are you telling me you’re okay with a gore-free killfest?”
Rowan was appalled. “Of course not. There’s no sense watching a horror movie without the gore.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“I guess I don’t understand the group,” Rowan hedged. “Why would they want to dictate what others can and can’t watch?”
“You just don’t want them to take your horror movies from you.” He kissed the tender spot behind her ear and smiled when she squirmed. “I don’t want them taken away either. You get romantic after watching a slasher movie. I have no idea why but ... I’m happy to benefit from your mood.”
“Ha, ha.” Rowan pinched his knee in a teasing fashion. “How will you like it if the group gets their way and outlaws those movies you like with the fast cars and scantily-clad women?”
“What’s offensive about that? And those Fast and the Furious movies are classics. You like them as well as me.”
“I like Vin Diesel when he’s all sweaty,” Rowan corrected. “You like Michelle Rodriguez when she’s all sweaty. It’s a match made in cinema heaven.”
Quinn barked out a laugh. “You are adorable.”
“I know, but I’m being serious.” She tapped the report to draw his attention. “It says right here that they’re interested in instituting a modesty clause that includes women in media only being able to wear one-piece bathing suits.”
“Well, that’s just ludicrous.”
“I agree. How do you think that attitude is going to fly on a ship full of women who like wearing string bikinis made of dental floss?”
“Oh.” Realization dawned on Quinn as he straightened. “Oh.”
“There you go,” Rowan smirked. “I’m thinking your job is going to be harder than normal on this one. A group of puritanical media watchers who think sex is evil are going to be taking up shop on our ship. That’s bound to go over well.”
; Quinn scowled. “Crap. I didn’t even think about that.” He wet his lips, his mind busy. “I should probably have some contingency in place. Maybe we can isolate one of the pools for the group and try to keep the rest of the guests at the other pools.”
“I don’t know that’s fair,” Rowan argued. “I mean ... it’s not everyone else’s fault that these people want to tell them how to dress.”
“I get that. I simply want to cut down on potential problems. What happens when one of those women in the dental floss bikinis gets drunk and decides she doesn’t like being judged?”
“That’s a good point.” Rowan rolled her neck. “I didn’t even consider that. We could have brawls at every end of the ship if we’re not careful.”
“Exactly.”
“How are you going to handle that?”
The look Quinn shot Rowan was withering. “I think you mean ‘how are we going to handle that,’ don’t you?”
Rowan shook her head, her lips curving. “I’m the ship’s photographer. Security isn’t my concern. That’s my big, strong boyfriend’s job.”
“Ha, ha.”
Quinn ruthlessly tickled her as she squealed, his security report forgotten as they grappled in the sand.
“Stop,” Rowan gasped, tears streaming down her eyes from the laughter. “It’s not my fault you’re the smartest man on the ship. You’re also the most charming man out there. I guarantee you’ll have these people eating out of the palm of your hand before you know it.”
“Oh, really?” Quinn cocked a dubious eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”
“Because you never wear dental floss despite how fetching I think you would look in it ... especially the flavored kind that would make you minty fresh.”
“That did it.” Quinn abandoned the report — he could read it in the morning, after all — and focused on his girlfriend. “You’d better prepare yourself, missy. I’m going to break a whole bunch of rules that the National Organization for Clean Minds and Hearts wouldn’t like.”
Wicked Ghostly Seas: A Rowan Gray, Harper Harlow and Ivy Morgan Mystery Omnibus Page 21
