Seeking Solace

by Ari McKay

  As the ship was pulling into port, Devin made his way along the Empress deck corridor to the suite Paul had been given. Devin didn’t often go to the passenger cabins, though he’d been given a tour when he first started so that he could see what the guest accommodations were like. He didn’t know if the line gave execs like Paul suites as a matter of course, or if the larger cabin had been the only one available, but he could tell by the spacing between the doors in the hallway that Paul was in one of the larger suites the ship boasted.

  After drawing in a deep breath, he knocked, hoping Paul hadn’t decided to go into town without him. But a few moments later, the door opened, and Paul stood there, looking surprised but pleased.

  “I didn’t think I’d see you until later,” Paul said, stepping aside so Devin could enter the suite.

  Devin moved past Paul, looking quickly around the suite and admiring the lush appointments. Rather than having the bedroom and sitting area as one continuous space, Paul’s cabin had a separate bedroom with an attached bathroom, and the sitting area was a small living room with a faux leather couch along one wall, a mahogany coffee table with a centerpiece of fresh-cut tropical flowers, and a couple of plush chairs. The media center consisted of a flat-screen TV set in the wall, a Bose sound system, and a recharging station for any device. The suite was decorated in tropical blues and greens accented with white, and every piece of wood and every fixture gleamed, not a speck of dust or an errant fingerprint to be found anywhere.

  “Being your guide is considered part of my job this cruise, so I only had to do a morning shift at the bar,” Devin said.

  He felt unsure of himself today, not knowing if Paul was having second thoughts, but he stepped closer and smiled. “I could hardly tell Kate I’d happily spend all my free time with you anyway. But I thought you might like to go into town and see the sights. Jamaica is beautiful, and the people are some of the friendliest you could hope to meet.”

  Paul’s answering smile was shy as he clasped Devin’s hand. “That sounds like fun.”

  “Great!” Relieved, Devin squeezed Paul’s hand. “We can go whenever you like. What you’re wearing should be fine.”

  Paul was attired in his usual khakis and a blue-and-white-striped polo shirt. Devin had opted for loose white cotton tropical pants and a short-sleeved shirt with a subdued blue-and-green tropical pattern. They could both pass muster anywhere except the most formal places, but Devin would prefer to show Paul the less touristy parts of the island. Besides, Paul needed to relax and let himself learn to be easy in his own skin again.

  “Let me shut down my laptop, and we can leave now, if that’s okay.” Paul released Devin’s hand and went to the coffee table, where his laptop sat.

  “That’s fine with me. Don’t forget your passport,” Devin said.

  Paul powered down the laptop and closed the lid, and then he detoured to the dresser and grabbed his passport and wallet. “Okay, I’m ready,” he said as he tucked them into his back pocket.

  It took a little time to get off the ship, since they had to line up with everyone else, but within half an hour of the ship docking they were walking up the pier toward town.

  “I took a culinary tour of the area on one of my first cruises,” Devin explained. “I was thinking since you like seafood so much, we could grab something from some of the street vendors to snack on while we walk around. There’s a lot of good shopping, too, if you’re interested. What I really want to show you, though, is the best beach party on the island. It’s mostly locals, and after dark there’s a bonfire on the beach and dancing to steel drums. They have locally made rum and fresh coconut, and there’s more fried fish and steamed shrimp than you can imagine.”

  Paul’s eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly. “I’d like that. The ship will be in port overnight, right? So we can stay as late as we want.”

  “Yes, we can,” Devin replied, pleased at Paul’s enthusiasm.

  When they reached the end of the pier, Devin waved down a taxi, and in short order they were on their way to Harbour Street, the location of a large straw market. Devin paid the driver, then took Paul’s arm as they moved into the rows of brightly colored shacks, where vendors sold everything from handmade leather shoes to the inescapable touristy shirts. They stopped at a vendor who was selling fried shrimp, the scent of it drawing them like a magnet.

  “This was swimming in the ocean this morning,” Devin said, handing Paul a large paper cone filled with crisp shrimp. “We can’t even get it this fresh on the ship, alas.”

  “Maybe I’ll dangle you over the side with a net.” Paul picked a fat shrimp out of the cone, blew on it, and popped it into his mouth. “Mm….” His eyes went half-lidded as his face suffused with sublime pleasure.

  Devin watched, feeling desire coiling within his stomach—and it wasn’t shrimp whetting his appetite. “If it will make you look that happy, you can dangle me wherever you like.”

  Paul’s lips curved into a smirk as he ate another shrimp and—slowly—licked crumbs and grease from his fingers. “We can probably find somewhere less public than over the side of the ship.”

  Devin’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer to Paul, lowering his voice so only Paul could hear him. “I hope if you take me somewhere private, you won’t leave me dangling too long.”

  A hint of pink rose in Paul’s cheeks, but he didn’t look away. “No,” he said softly. “I don’t think I would.”

  With a smile, Devin leaned in to press his lips to Paul’s flushed cheek, then pulled back and grabbed a shrimp from the cone. He popped it into his mouth, chewing it and humming with pleasure. “That’s good. And the shrimp isn’t bad either.”

  Paul glanced sidelong at Devin and snorted. “If I stay around you much longer, my ego will get out of control.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” Devin asked. He tilted his head to one side. “You’re a desirable man. You’ve got a right to preen a bit. Even Jill, my partner in crime, said you’re gorgeous. Triton Cruises should give me a bonus for not scratching her eyes out.”

  “She might think what she can see is gorgeous, but there’s what can’t be seen to consider,” Paul said, focusing intently on his remaining shrimp.

  “Hey.” Devin laid his hand on Paul’s arm, feeling bad for having hurt Paul without meaning to. “Gorgeous is as gorgeous does. I don’t think there’s anything bad enough to make a soul as bright and beautiful as yours any less desirable. You can’t define yourself or your desirability by your injury, okay?”

  “My head knows that,” Paul said, his expression rueful. “But after being rejected more than once because of my scars, my heart isn’t so sure. I trust you, but that doesn’t mean I’m not scared too.”

  Devin ached for the pain Paul had suffered, and he wanted more than anything to prove Paul was a desirable man, scars or no scars—and that Devin fully understood Paul’s hesitation. “I know what it’s like to have people judge you based on appearances, and to be rejected because you’re seen as inferior. But I’ll prove to your heart that your head has got the right idea,” he said softly. “If I haven’t made it plain enough before, I’ll say it: I want you, Paul. I don’t care about your scars.”

  “I want you too.” The words were barely audible over the sounds of the bustling market, but Devin heard them nonetheless. He couldn’t help smiling widely, delighted Paul could say it aloud.

  “We’ll have to do something about that soon,” he murmured, then brushed his lips against Paul’s cheek. “For now, though, what do you say to eating shrimp, buying trinkets, then going to a party?”

  “I think that sounds like a great idea.” Paul met Devin’s gaze again at last and smiled slightly.

  “Great!” Devin plucked another shrimp from the cone and popped it into his mouth before linking his arm with Paul’s. “Let’s see if we can find treasure in one of these stalls.”

  They took their time in the market, watching the women who were weaving baskets and stringing beads for necklaces. Devin
bought bracelets for his nieces and a large basket for his mother, which she’d specifically requested. They spent some time watching a group of artisans carving bowls from coconut shells, and a woman who was painting a seascape in brilliant colors. Paul seemed to relax and enjoy the outing, watching the production of the crafts with genuine interest and asking insightful questions.

  When dinnertime arrived, they went to the kiosk that would deliver their purchases to the ship. Then Devin hailed another taxi, and they rode a couple of miles south of town along the coast. They saw several touristy resorts along the way, but after a few minutes the area became more residential, with the occasional business establishment. The taxi stopped in front of a small hotel and restaurant in an older building of white stucco stopped with a red roof of terracotta tiles.

  “This is it. I think you’ll really like this,” Devin said.

  The music of steel drums greeted their arrival, along with the scent of cooking spices and wood smoke. As they stepped inside, a dark-haired woman at the hostess station greeted Devin with a wide smile. She came out from behind the podium, revealing she was very pregnant.

  “Devin! I heard the Pearl was coming in today, and I hoped you’d show up,” she said, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

  “You know me, Cass. I’m a bad penny,” he replied, hugging her carefully. She stepped back, and he gestured to Paul. “Cass, this is Paul Bailey. He’s on his first cruise with Triton. Paul, this is Cassidy Mason. She was a bartender on the Pearl until she got married and decided to be a landlubber again. At least she had the good taste to hold out for a respectable hotel owner, rather than running off with a beach bum.”

  Cassidy held out her hand, not bothering to hide her curiosity. “It’s nice to meet you, Paul.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” Paul said as he shook her hand. “I can see why you wanted to stay here. It’s a beautiful island.”

  “Oh yes,” she replied. “I was with Triton for almost ten years, so I got to see every island in the Caribbean, or close to it. Jamaica is definitely my favorite, but I have to admit, my husband had something to do with my preference.” She looked between the two of them. “I take it you’re here for dinner and the beach party?”

  “Absolutely,” Devin replied. “I told Paul this was the best place on the island.”

  “Well, we like to think so. Since I heard the Pearl was in port and had the feeling you’d drop by, Dev, I saved a table for you.” She moved back behind the hostess stand to retrieve two menus, and she gestured for them to follow her. “Will the patio do?”

  “Absolutely,” Devin said, grateful for Cass’s foresight. He was a regular at the Golden Sands whenever the Pearl was in port.

  They followed her out to a beautiful patio that overlooked the water. The sun was low in the west, and Cass placed them at a small table for two where they could watch it set. After getting them settled, she handed them the menus and promised their waiter would be right with them.

  When they were alone, Devin pointed toward the beach, where two men were placing wood in a ring of stones. “That’s for the bonfire later,” he explained. “I highly recommend the Jamaican paella. It’s made with seafood and chicken and jerk seasoning. Spicy and wonderful.”

  “Then that’s what I’ll have,” Paul said with a decisive nod. “What would you recommend to drink that would go with the paella?”

  “We could have wine, or go all out and have the rum punch,” Devin replied. “Since we don’t have to worry about driving, I’m tempted to indulge in the punch, because it’s really good.”

  “Rum punch sounds good to me,” Paul said, giving Devin an arch look. “Who knows what might happen with enough rum punch?”

  “I might not know, but I can hope,” Devin replied with a wicked smile.

  Their waiter came over to take their orders and returned with the rum punch in tall, frosted glasses, and a loaf of crusty bread. Devin took a sip, then sighed in pleasure.

  “Cass hasn’t lost her touch. She was my mentor when I started with Triton. She’s the best bartender I’ve ever met.”

  Paul tried his rum punch as well and made a quiet noise of approval. “It’s very good,” he said. “Although I still have a preference for your Rum Stumbler.”

  Devin grinned. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll have to make up a drink especially for you. Or maybe a seafood dish. I still have to show you I’m not all talk when it comes to cooking.”

  “I believe you,” Paul said, reaching for a knife and the loaf of bread. He sliced two pieces and offered one to Devin. “But it’ll be difficult to give a demonstration when we’re either on an island or on a ship with a busy kitchen.”

  Devin accepted the bread, which was still warm from the oven. “I can come up with something,” he said, giving Paul a playful wink. “I’m a resourceful sort of guy.”

  “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

  Devin laughed, and they chatted until the food arrived, which was just as good as Devin remembered. The rice and vegetables were richly spiced, and the seafood was cooked to perfection. “This is a dish I’m going to steal when I have my own restaurant,” Devin said. “It’s a bit difficult to get fresh seafood in Buffalo Lick, but if I end up back there, I’ll have to figure out a way to import it.”

  “How far are you from the Gulf of Mexico?” Paul asked. “Maybe you can find a distributer from a coastal town.”

  “Buffalo Lick isn’t too far from Austin,” Devin explained. “I’m not necessarily looking to move back home, but it’s what I know.” He gave Paul a sideways glance. “I’m not averse to going almost anywhere with the right incentive.”

  Paul raised one eyebrow, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “That sounds very hint-ish, especially if the incentive is what I suspect it is.”

  Devin shrugged, but he didn’t hide his smile. “Just letting you know where I stand. I’m not the hidden-agenda type.”

  “You wouldn’t have any trouble getting fresh seafood in Charleston,” Paul said lightly.

  Devin suddenly felt breathless, and he told himself not to read too much into Paul’s words. As much as he wanted to believe it might be an indication of Paul’s interest, it was far too soon to let himself start hoping.

  “That’s true,” he said, keeping his tone just as light. “I happen to love Charleston. It’s a food town.”

  “Good food, history, the arts.” Paul began sipping his punch, watching Devin over the rim of his glass. “It has a lot going for it.”

  “It certainly does.” Devin leaned forward, his smile growing heated. “Especially if you’re there.”

  “That’s where I plan to stay,” Paul said. “It would be more difficult for me to relocate, since corporate headquarters is there.”

  “That makes sense,” Devin replied. It was hard to not let himself hope things could work out for them. He knew he was a dreamer and a romantic, and he also knew that when he fell, he fell hard. “Would you like another rum punch or dessert? Or are you ready to go dance on the beach?”

  “If I have another rum punch, I might not remember the beach party,” Paul said with a quiet chuckle. “Let’s check out the party.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Devin drained the last of his drink, then rose to his feet. “We can go right on down to the beach. You’ll get to meet Cass’s husband, Jamal, too. He’s really hot.”

  The steel drum band had continued their serenade throughout most of dinner, then had taken a short break. As Devin and Paul made their way down to the beach, the band started up again, launching into a rendition of the Beach Boys’ “Kokomo.”

  “I love this song,” Devin said, laughing as he urged Paul toward the bonfire. Other people down on the sand were dancing and singing, and when they reached the edge of the crowd, Devin began to dance as well. “Come on, Paul! Let’s do this.”

  Paul glanced around at all the other people, his expression uncertain, but he joined the crowd with Devin.

  Devin smiled in encou
ragement and leaned in close. “Don’t worry—no one is going to notice or care about how you dance. These are good people having a good time and wanting everyone else to have fun too.”

  “Right,” Paul said, although he looked dubious. He glanced around again, and then he started swaying stiffly.

  Devin moved closer and rested his hands on Paul’s hips, swaying with him. Other couples were dancing, and Devin and Paul weren’t the only two men paired up together. He sang to Paul as they danced. That song ended, but the band segued into another, slower number.

  “Oh, we can dance closer,” Devin murmured. “I like that.”

  “Slower is good,” Paul said as he slid his arms around Devin’s shoulders and closed some of the distance between them.

  Devin kept his movements small, since the sand wasn’t firmly packed. But Paul didn’t seem to be having any trouble, and Devin hoped he’d become more confident when he saw no one was looking at him or judging. “I’m determined to get you to dance calypso with me at some point.”

  “Not going to happen,” Paul said firmly.

  “I take that as a challenge,” Devin replied. He leaned closer, brushing his lips against Paul’s cheek. “Or maybe I can offer you a sufficient bribe.”

  “A kiss on the cheek isn’t nearly enough incentive,” Paul said, but the stern lines on his face softened a little.

  Devin pulled back, chuckling and shaking his head. “Oh, I had something more interesting in mind than a kiss on the cheek. There are definitely other ways I can use my mouth, you know.”

  “I’m looking forward to finding out,” Paul said, a heated gleam appearing in his eyes.

  “Is it tempting enough to convince you to calypso?” Devin asked with a teasing smile. “Ah, who am I fooling? With or without the dancing, I’ll do whatever you’d like.” A slow burn of desire was already coiling within him. It had been months since he’d had a lover, and Paul appealed to him far more than anyone else he could ever remember.

  “I can think of quite a few things I’d like you to do.” Paul moved his hands down to Devin’s hips and squeezed gently.