“Finally, you’re doing something worth doing.”
Quinn’s grin was wide and lopsided. “Prepare to be amazed.”
“I’m always prepared.”
“That’s only one of the things I love about you.”
Two
“Wow. It looks like a floating city.”
Ivy didn’t want to be referred to as a country bumpkin, but that’s how she felt as she walked hand-in-hand with Jack up the gangway to the ship the next afternoon. Their plane left Michigan long before dawn, landing in Florida three hours later. That gave them enough time to eat and catch a cab to the ship.
Jack smiled as he studied her profile. She looked awestruck, which was something he rarely witnessed. In fact, since meeting her, he could count on one hand the number of times she appeared to be out of her element. Heck, when they went camping, he was the one left scrambling to catch up with her. “Do you like it?”
“How could I not like it?” Her eyes sparkled as she shifted them to him. “I don’t even know what to think about it. We have some big ships in Lake Michigan, but this is unbelievable.”
“Those are freighter ships.”
“And some tourist ships.”
“Yeah. This is an ocean liner.”
“Well ... it’s amazing.”
Jack squeezed her hand, pleased at the way her smile never slipped as they closed in on the check-in point. “Okay, I figured we would get the keys to our room, unpack, and then hit the deck for a coconut-flavored drink.”
“Cool.”
It took them twenty minutes to wind their way to the front desk on The Bounding Storm. The woman who stood behind the desk was young, and the smile she flashed was friendly and engaging.
“Welcome to The Bounding Storm. What name is your reservation under?”
“Jack Harker.” He spelled his name as he ran his hand up and down Ivy’s back. For her part, she seemed interested in the woman to their left who was trying to wrangle four kids in front of a huge backdrop of a waterfall so she could take a photo.
“Oh, I see you’re one of our VIP couples,” the woman commented, her smile growing wider. “How great. That means you get special wristbands that allow you to access the private pool at the aft of the ship. No children are allowed there and drinks are served poolside. You also have options for the upscale dining rooms. If you need a reservation at any of our smaller restaurants, simply call the concierge and he will set that up for you.”
Jack smiled as he signed the sheet of paper she placed in front of him, handing the wristbands to Ivy as he gripped the handle of the suitcase. “Which way?”
“You have a semi-private elevator that will take you to your rooms.” The girl pointed. “Please let us know if we can do anything to make your stay better.”
“I think our stay is going to be perfect. Don’t you, honey?”
“Hmm.” Ivy stirred from her close study of the pretty woman taking photographs. She wasn’t sure when she lost track of the conversation, but she was surprised when Jack asked her a direct question and she had no idea what he was talking about.
“Are you drunk already?” he teased, following her gaze. “Oh, I get it.”
“You get what?”
“You want your photograph taken. I believe that’s part of the package, right?”
The clerk nodded. “Absolutely. Rowan is the main photographer onboard and she does a wonderful job. In addition to the photo taken when you check in, she will also load various action snapshots into a portal for you to peruse if you want to order additional prints after your stay with us. All the instructions are in the packet I gave you.”
“That sounds like a plan.” Jack tugged the suitcase and inclined his head in Rowan’s direction. “Come on. Let’s get a photo.”
Ivy’s eyes widened. “You want a photograph?”
“Why wouldn’t I want a photograph? I have the prettiest woman on the ship. I want to make sure I have something to frame to prove that.”
“I ... .” Whatever Ivy was going to say died on her lips as she fell into step with Jack. He was determined, and even though she thought it was a bit schmaltzy, she wasn’t opposed to a professional photograph. “I wish I didn’t have plane hair.”
“You’re beautiful no matter what.” Jack smiled indulgently as the photographer gestured for them to step in front of the backdrop.
“Hi. I’m Rowan Gray. I’m the ship photographer. Can I have your names?”
“Jack Harker and Ivy Morgan.”
“Okay. I see you’re VIP clients. That means you get your own personal photo portal,” Rowan explained. “There will be instructions in your packet on how to access it.”
“Great.”
“Leave your luggage right here and move to the center of the backdrop,” Rowan instructed, her eyes briefly locking with Ivy’s. They stared at each other for a long beat, neither of them saying anything.
“Is something wrong?” Jack asked when he realized both women had fallen silent, instantly alert.
“No,” Ivy replied quickly, shaking her head. “It’s just ... I feel like I know you.”
“It’s weird that you mention it,” Rowan hedged. “I feel like I know you, too. In fact ... where did you go to high school?”
“Shadow Lake High School. It’s this really small town in northern Lower Michigan. Nobody has ever heard of it.”
Rowan’s eyes widened. “I have. I grew up in St. Clair Shores.”
“I grew up in St. Clair Shores, too,” Jack offered. “That’s weird. Which high school did you go to?”
“Lakeview.”
“I went to South Lake.”
“Small world.” Rowan’s eyes were back on Ivy. “I’ve been to Shadow Lake. It was a long time ago. I was a teenager. My father took me there after my mother died because there was some sort of festival he thought I would be interested in.”
“We always have festivals,” Ivy supplied. “I mean ... always. Like every freaking week.”
Rowan chuckled. “I wonder if we ever met. Did you go to the festivals?”
“I usually worked the festivals.”
“I guess maybe you seem familiar because you’re from Michigan.” Rowan’s smile widened as she lifted her camera. “It’s like having a small bit of home visit.”
“Yes, well, we’re happy to be visiting you.” Jack slid his arm around Ivy’s waist and tugged her to his side. “We’re looking forward to a fun trip.”
“I hope you get everything you’re looking for.” Rowan took five photos in rapid succession and pulled back to check her handiwork in the viewfinder. “You guys are very photogenic. I’ll have the photos up later tonight for you to look at them. If you don’t like what you see, call me and we can set up a time for you to take another.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Jack said. “I think we’ll be happy with whatever you have. Now, come on, honey. I’m dying to see this room. It’s supposed to be spectacular.”
“You got one of the loft rooms, right?” Rowan smiled knowingly. “Trust me. Compared to a standard room, they’re absolutely fabulous. I didn’t even know they were a thing until a few weeks ago and now I’ve become obsessed with them. I’ve only seen photos. They try to hide them away from the workers.”
“Then I’m definitely looking forward to seeing it.” Ivy offered Rowan a half-wave. “Maybe we’ll see you later. We can trade stories about growing up in Michigan.”
“Definitely.” Rowan bobbed her head as she turned to the next woman in line. “Name?”
“Margaret Adkins.”
“Okay. Step up to the backdrop and let’s see what we’ve got.”
IVY WAS ON PINS AND needles as she waited for Jack to open their suite door. When she stepped inside, she was flabbergasted by what she saw.
“What the ... ?”
“Wow.” Even Jack was impressed. “My sister sent me photos, but they didn’t do this place justice. Will you look at that?” He gestured toward the loft bed. It was loc
ated up a flight of stairs and the wall separating it from the balcony was glass. On the main floor, they had a small living room and office area.
Ivy was utterly flummoxed. “Jack, how did you afford this?” She swallowed hard. “This isn’t a normal room.”
“No,” Jack agreed, sliding his eyes to her pretty face. “It’s not normal, honey. As for affording it ... I know someone.”
“Jack.” Ivy was exasperated. “How?”
He ran his tongue over his teeth. “I sold the house in St. Clair Shores,” he said after a beat.
“I know. That’s how you helped with the cottage expansion. That’s hardly news.”
“I made a little more than I expected,” he hedged. “It’s a seller’s market. The guy I sold it to happens to be a real estate agent. I threw in the furniture for free ... and his wife was so thrilled he arranged this as a gift. Apparently he knows one of the bigwigs who works for the cruise liner.”
“Wow.” Ivy merely shook her head as she stared at the room. “How many rooms are there like this on one of these ships?”
“Not many. That’s why I was so excited when he offered it.”
“It’s amazing.” Ivy’s eyes were glassy when she turned to him. “This is really amazing, Jack.”
“Oh, come here, honey.” He opened his arms so she could step between them and accept his hug. “This is only the beginning.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He nodded, solemn. “How badly do you want to go upstairs and test that bed with me?”
Ivy fought the urge to laugh but ultimately gave in. “You’re going to be a sex machine all vacation, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea.”
Ivy was already squealing when he started chasing her toward the stairs.
ROWAN WAS TIRED WHEN she finished her shift, making her way to the tiki bar on the main deck so she could indulge herself with some iced tea and her computer as she loaded the photos for sorting.
“Hey, girlfriend,” Demarcus Johnson teased in an exaggerated tone as he joined her in the shade. He knew what she wanted before she even ordered and had a huge glass ready for delivery. “You look a little worse for wear. Are those ‘no swearing in television’ people giving you a hard time?”
Rowan snorted, legitimately amused. “They are a little different,” she conceded, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “One couple actually got in a fight because the wife was convinced the husband was looking at another guest’s bare legs. She said this was why they had to join the group in the first place and he was a complete and total pervert because Hollywood made him that way.”
Demarcus snorted as he sank into the chair across from Rowan. “That is ... I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“I don’t either,” Rowan admitted, her eyes glazing over as the photos uploaded at a rapid pace. “The regular guests seem fine this go-around. I even met a couple from Michigan. They’re from Shadow Lake now, but the man grew up in the same city I did. I kind of want to talk to them later.”
“Oh, are you getting nostalgic for Michigan? That sounds normal when you live in a tropical paradise.”
“Ha, ha.” Rowan rolled her eyes. “It’s not that I’m nostalgic. It’s just ... they’re kind of a touchstone. I know it’s weird, but I like the idea that we’re from the same state. Sue me.”
“Oh, chill out.” Demarcus waved off Rowan’s attitude. “There’s no reason to get crazy. I get it.”
“They’re one of the VIP couples, too.”
“Oh, the chick with pink hair?” Demarcus brightened considerably. “Half the staff is talking about her. They think she looks like some Bohemian princess. People noticed her on the deck when she was checking in.”
“Who is a Bohemian princess?” Quinn asked, sliding into the chair next to Rowan and leaning forward so he could give her a kiss on the cheek. “How was your day, dear?”
Rowan chuckled. “That’s a little domestic, isn’t it?”
“I’m trying it on for size. As far as endearments go, it’s kind of lame. I’m hoping it makes you want to deliver my slippers to me while wearing a French maid’s uniform later.”
Rowan’s smile slipped. “That is never going to happen.”
“Never say never.” Quinn winked before shifting his eyes to Demarcus. “Who is the Bohemian princess you’re talking about?”
“I don’t know her name,” Demarcus replied. “She’s staying in one of the VIP suites, though. The room is registered under her boyfriend’s name.”
“Fiancé,” Rowan automatically corrected. “He’s her fiancé.”
Demarcus arched an eyebrow, surprised. “How do you know that?”
“Because I took their photo and she’s wearing a ring.” Rowan scanned through the photos until she found the ones that depicted Ivy and Jack, tilting her computer screen so Quinn could see the couple in question. “See. She has a diamond on her left ring finger.”
“And he looks sloppy in love,” Quinn noted, smirking. “I can see why people are calling her a Bohemian princess. She’s wearing a long skirt in the middle of a heatwave ...and it looks as if it should be in the display window at a head shop. The hair is kind of odd, too.”
“I like her hair.” Rowan made a face. “It fits her personality.”
“Okay.” Quinn widened his eyes at her biting tone. “Did I miss something? I was just commenting on the hair, not insulting her or anything.”
“Rowan feels a kinship with the Bohemian queen because she’s from Michigan,” Demarcus explained. “We were talking about that right before you showed up. Apparently Rowan grew up in the same town as the guy who happens to be boinking the Bohemian lovely.”
“Stop calling her Bohemian,” Rowan snapped. “She’s perfectly nice.”
“Do you know the guy?” Quinn asked, curious.
“No. I don’t think I ever met him. We lived in the same city but went to different high schools. I think we’re close to the same age, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I do remember Shadow Lake, though. That’s the place my father took me after my mother died. He thought I needed time away from people, and Shadow Lake is pretty much in the middle of nowhere.”
“Well, that’s kind of interesting,” Quinn said finally. “I think it’s kind of cute that you feel the need to stand up for her simply because she’s from Michigan.”
“That’s not the only reason,” Rowan hedged. “I just ... there was something about her. I felt as if I knew her or something.”
“Really?” Quinn discarded his teasing tone. “I don’t know what to make of that. Do you think you’ve met her before?”
“I have no idea. I do plan on talking to her later, though. I don’t care how much fun you guys make of me for it.”
“I don’t think it’s a bad idea. She looks interesting.” Quinn moved his fingers to the mousepad and moved to the next photograph. “They look happy, huh?”
“They are happy. You can feel it practically radiating off of them.”
“Do I need to work on my happiness radiation skills?”
“Oh, geez.” Demarcus rolled his eyes and got to his feet. “On that note, I’m going to leave you guys to worship one another. If you get any good dirt on your new friends, tell me. I bet she’s got an awesome story. If you guys are going to spend all night saying ‘no, you’re prettier,’ then I’m out.”
“Oh, speaking of queens,” Rowan teased, grinning when Demarcus shot her a look before moving across the bar to take care of some guests. She was still smiling when she turned back to Quinn and found him watching her with questioning eyes. “What?”
“Nothing.” He held up his hands in a placating manner. “I’m simply confused as to why you’re so interested in this woman. I mean ... she doesn’t look like a normal cruise guest. She does have a Bohemian flair, no matter what you say. You seem a little protective of her, though. How come?”
Rowan shrugged, unsure how to answer. “She kind of reminds me of myself.”
“I don’t know. When I first came here, this ship seemed larger than life. I didn’t think I was going to fit in. Not ever. The way she looked at the lobby, it reminded me of the way I looked at the lobby that first day. She’s out of her element ... and really excited.”
“That seems like a very specific observation.”
“Yeah, well, I have awesome observation skills. In fact ... .” Rowan completely forgot what she was about to say as she flipped to the next photograph in the lineup and focused on the woman in line behind Ivy Morgan. She couldn’t remember her name, but the symbol showing in the corner of the photograph was familiar enough to send shivers down her spine. “Quinn.”
“What?” Quinn was still smiling, still enjoying messing with his girlfriend, when he turned to the computer. His lips turned down the moment he recognized the symbol — he’d been dating Rowan long enough for her to explain her ability to him — and he glanced around the deck to make sure no one could overhear them before asking the obvious question. “Do you know who that is?”
“Yeah.” She checked her notes with shaking hands. “Her name is Margaret Adkins. She didn’t say much, was a little grumpy. I didn’t exactly engage with her because it was right after Ivy and Jack went through. I was more interested in them.”
“Yeah, well, that’s why you have me to provide information.” Quinn whipped out his phone and typed the woman’s name into a search portal. “Oh, well, crap.”
“What’s wrong?” Rowan’s eyes widened. “She’s not already dead, is she? I’ve never seen the omen work that fast.”
“I don’t know either way if she’s dead. I’m guessing not, but I’ll check in a few minutes. That’s not what I was ‘oh, crap-ing’ about.”
“Do I even want to know?”
“She’s with the political group.”
Rowan sighed, resigned. “Of course she is. We should’ve seen that coming.”
“Yeah, well, that’s going to make getting close to her more difficult. That group is pretty insulated as far as I can tell.”
Wicked Ghostly Seas: A Rowan Gray, Harper Harlow and Ivy Morgan Mystery Omnibus Page 22
