“Oh, it’s not that,” Rowan said hurriedly, recognizing his concern and internally cursing herself for worrying him. “In fact, I was just going through all of the photos, but I didn’t see one omen. We look clean for this trip … at least for now.”
“Oh, good.” Quinn was relieved. “So what’s the problem, Rowan? Why are you so tired?”
Rowan saw no way out of it. She was going to have to tell him the truth. “Everyone wasn’t as … cool … as I thought they would be.”
“Oh.” Quinn did his best to hide his smile given her downtrodden expression. “This isn’t going to be as much fun as you thought it was, is it?”
“Probably not,” Rowan conceded. “I met so many people from movies I loved today that I thought it would be like the best day ever.”
“It wasn’t?”
“They’re vapid, whiny, and prone to complaining about bad lighting.”
Quinn didn’t want to smile. He knew it was the last thing the situation warranted. He couldn’t help himself, though. “So you found out your horror heroes were real people, huh? That had to be difficult.”
“It was terrible.”
“Oh.” Quinn chuckled as he tugged her into his arms, swaying back and forth as she rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry this isn’t going to be as great as you wanted.”
“But you knew it wouldn’t be.”
“That doesn’t stop me from wishing it would be different for you.”
“Ugh. You’re so sweet.” Rowan screwed her eyes shut and kissed his strong jaw line. “Do you think we can stay like this for the rest of the day?”
“No. I have five minutes free, though.”
“That will have to do.”
Quinn clutched her tightly against his chest as he kissed the ridge of her ear. “I have the entire night open after our shifts are finished. I thought maybe you could show me one of those bad horror movies or something.”
Rowan brightened. “Really?”
Quinn nodded.
“You really are the perfect man.”
Quinn chuckled as he smacked his lips against hers. “I’m glad someone finally noticed my worth. Now … come on. Let’s enjoy the rest of our hug before returning to work. There are high points to every day … and this is mine.”
“You read my mind.”
4
Four
Quinn watched Rowan work as he sat in the shade near the tiki bar. He was supposed to be watching the new guests – a group of the pastiest people he’d ever seen (all of whom insisted on wearing black so it was like a colorless festival) – but often found his attention drifting back to his girlfriend as she happily snapped photographs.
The difference in Rowan’s demeanor from cruise to cruise was interesting. It had everything to do with the death omen, which set her (and him by extension) on edge. If she saw the omen in opening day photographs that’s all she could focus on. If she didn’t, she immediately relaxed and had a good time. In some ways Quinn envied her. He always had to be on the lookout for trouble. She had such faith in her ability that wasn’t an issue.
As for the ability itself, Quinn doubted her when she first admitted to the magical malady. How could he not? It was so … fantastical. Still, when she pointed out the symbol in photographs he could see it with his own eyes (although she had to direct him to it before it came into focus). Still, he decided it was better to be safe than sorry and he agreed to help her watch the at-risk individuals in the photographs. It was his job, after all.
The first time the omen came true and a girl vanished from the ship, Quinn was flabbergasted. Part of him couldn’t help but wonder if Rowan did something herself, ensured that it was a self-fulfilling prophecy or something of that ilk. That didn’t square with the vibe he got when spending time with her. He couldn’t overlook the possibility, though.
It became very clear – and very fast – that she was telling the truth. He didn’t once question her after he swallowed that basic assumption. When Rowan told him someone was going to die he not only believed her but also jumped right in to help her head off the disastrous death. He didn’t question her motives because he could see her heart. Essentially they were already a unit. Even though it happened fast, he didn’t look back and wonder how it occurred. He was merely thankful it did.
“You seem to be in a good mood.” Michael Griffin, The Bounding Storm’s captain, smirked when Quinn jerked his shoulders. He rarely managed to surprise the vigilant security chief. It was a thrill whenever he did. “What are you looking at?”
Michael sat in the open chair next to Quinn, sighing as he leaned back and extended his legs in front of him. He loved being on the open sea. That was why he became a luxury liner captain, after all. He also loved attractive women and wasn’t ashamed to admit it. That’s why he left one of his underlings to pilot for the first leg while he got a gander at the horror movie stars littering the boat.
“I’m just looking,” Quinn replied, hoping he sounded relaxed instead of annoyed.
“Okay, look this way!”
Rowan’s voice carried over the deck and Michael flicked his eyes in her direction as she directed a group of passengers to move closer together near the railing.
“Ah, I see what you’re looking at.” Michael beamed as Quinn’s cheeks flushed with color. “You’re not looking for a horror movie honey. You already have your own honey, don’t you?”
Quinn didn’t make friends easily and he didn’t consider himself close with the bulk of The Bounding Storm’s staff. There were hundreds of them, after all, and he didn’t have the time or inclination to get to know each and every one of them. Other than Demarcus and Sally – and Rowan, of course – Michael was the only crewmember he took the time to get to know. In essence, Michael was his best friend on the ship – despite the older man’s horndog ways, which often chafed Quinn’s nerves.
“Do you have a reason for being here?” Quinn asked, shifting the conversation away from Rowan. He didn’t mind talking about her, but Michael always took it to the lowest possible level and he wasn’t in the mood.
“I’m here to see the horror movie honeys,” Michael replied, not missing a beat. “I love horror movies.”
“You do?” Quinn arched a surprised eyebrow. “Since when? I thought you were more of a porn guy.”
“Oh, you say that like it’s a bad thing,” Michael teased, smiling as the waitress delivered a glass of iced tea, taking a sip as he watched her go, his eyes zeroing in on her tight shorts and swinging hips. “Is she new?”
Quinn made a face. “Oh, geez. Haven’t you worked your way through the entire ship yet? You’re falling behind.”
Michael refused to let Quinn’s tone grate. “I know. It’s a travesty.”
“Whatever.” Quinn sipped his own iced tea before letting his eyes drift back to Rowan. She looked cute, her head tilted to the side as some pudgy guy explained something to her with big hand gestures. Quinn hated to admit it – he didn’t think of himself as a jealous person, after all – but he was glad the guy was pudgy. Rowan’s love of horror movies made her an attractive and potentially easy target for the duration of the cruise. “So you like horror movies, too, huh?”
Michael followed Quinn’s gaze and offered a small headshake when he realized his friend was back to fixating on Rowan. “I do. Do you want to know why?”
Quinn already knew the answer to that question. “Because the casting directors in horror movies are more often interested in the size of a woman’s breasts rather than her acting ability.”
“I know you meant that as a dig, but that’s exactly why,” Michael confirmed, grinning as Quinn scowled. “Why are you so tense, man? I would think you would be floating on clouds these days. I’m not much of a relationship guy, but I vaguely remember the beginning being the best part. That’s when you get the most sex.”
Quinn felt his cheeks burning as he tried to maintain an air of aloofness. The last thing he wanted was Michael figuring out his big pr
oblem. “I am floating on clouds … or whatever sounds more manly than that.”
“You know what I mean,” Michael teased.
“I do.” Quinn bobbed his head in confirmation. “I … like her.”
“I’ve noticed.” Michael enjoyed the way Quinn squirmed in his chair. “I liked her when I first met her, too. She’s ridiculously hot. I was going to ask her out … until I realized you couldn’t stop staring at her. I didn’t want to ruin your chances with her so I backed off.”
Quinn screwed his face up into a comical expression that Michael couldn’t help but snort at. “You backed off because you didn’t want to ruin my chances?” Quinn was dumbfounded. “Really?”
“I’m the captain,” Michael reminded him. “Women love a man in power. They fall all over themselves when a captain is in their midst. I don’t think they can help themselves. It’s something in the hormones … or maybe even the ovaries.”
Quinn rolled his eyes. “You missed your calling as a gynecologist,” he said dryly. “You clearly have a special understanding of the inner workings of a woman’s body.”
“I know. It’s a gift.” Michael puffed out his chest as he took a sip of iced tea, his gaze busy as it bounced between deck denizens. “Have you ever seen so many white people?”
Quinn snorted, relaxing a bit when he realized his pal was going to ease off on the Rowan discussion. It wasn’t that he didn’t like talking about Rowan. She was his favorite topic, in fact. The fact that everyone assumed they were a bit further into their relationship than they were grated on him, though. He felt pressure from above, below, outside, and inside. He knew some of that was his own fault, but he couldn’t help but resent the part that came from everyone else … especially Demarcus and Michael.
“Yeah, I was just thinking about that myself,” Quinn noted, leaning back in his chair. The sun was warm and intense and the shaded area where he sat offered quiet respite, which he was thankful for. “I guess I’ve never realized the lack of ethnic diversity in horror movies.”
“It’s not just that,” Michael said. “These people are white even for white people.”
Quinn glanced around to see if anyone was eavesdropping, but no one so much as looked in their direction. “You might not want to say things like that in front of an audience,” he said, lowering his voice. “People might get the wrong idea.”
“What’s the wrong idea?”
“That … .” Quinn broke off, unsure how to answer. If he tried to explain things he might be the one who ended up looking bad. He changed course mid-thought. “They’re definitely pasty.”
“All of the women have huge boobs, though,” Michael said, his eyes drifting back to a gaggle of women, their breasts jiggling as they giggled and sipped from fruity drinks. “I think I’m definitely going to like this particular cruise.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Quinn intoned, lifting his gaze skyward. “As long as you stay away from my woman, I don’t really care, though.”
Michael arched a challenging eyebrow. “Your woman, huh? A couple of weeks ago you spent several days denying you liked her. Now she’s your woman. How did that happen?”
Quinn shrugged, unsure how to answer. “I like her.”
His answer was so simple, so heartfelt, that Michael could do nothing but smile. “I know you do. However, when you first arrived on this ship I told you that cruise worker pools were a great place to fish because you didn’t have to keep what you caught for the long haul. You can always throw them back.”
“And that analogy is just as insulting now as it was then,” Quinn muttered.
Michael ignored the complaint. “You said that you weren’t interested in a relationship – short or long – and you had no intention of letting romantic entanglements become a factor in your life.”
Quinn licked his lips, uncomfortable with the turn in the conversation. “And I meant it.”
“You don’t feel that way now.”
“No, I don’t.”
“So … what changed?”
“She did.” Quinn’s voice was barely a whisper as he rolled his neck and flicked his eyes to Rowan. Her easy smile was in place as she talked to Sally near the edge of the deck. She looked to be having a good time, relaxation and happiness sweeping over her pleasing features. “I like her.”
“And that’s the third time you’ve said that since I sat down,” Michael pointed out. “You must really have it bad. Is she that good in bed?”
Quinn worked overtime to tamp down the bubbling irritation. He reminded himself that Michael didn’t mean to be rude. The man actually had a good heart. He simply didn’t understand what Quinn was grappling with when it came to Rowan.
“It’s more than that,” Quinn offered, opting for honesty. “She’s not just one thing. She’s many things. I enjoy talking to her … spending time with her … just sitting by the ocean and looking out at the moon with her. We can spend an hour without saying a word and I’m fine with that.”
“I’m fine with that, too,” Michael said. “I like it better when they don’t say a word.”
Quinn rolled his eyes. “Not that way. You’re a real pig, though. You know that, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer. The question was rhetorical. “I like sitting with her and sharing a comfortable silence. She doesn’t pretend to be anything she’s not and I don’t feel the need to fill uncomfortable silences with her. We’re both fine just … being. I like that about her.”
“Is there anything you don’t like about her?”
“No.” Quinn scratched the back of his neck, his eyes shifting to the spot Rowan stood with Sally a few moments before. “Where did she go?”
“Who?” Rowan asked, popping up in the spot between Quinn and Michael.
Quinn jolted, his mind busy with the possibility that she overheard their conversation and might be offended. Sure, he took up for her, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be offended all the same. One look at Rowan’s face told him she was in a good mood, though, and there was no reason to get worked up. She hadn’t heard. Er, well, if she had, she didn’t care. She merely seemed happy with the day.
“Can I have a drink of that?” Rowan gestured toward Quinn’s iced tea as she ran the back of her hand over her forehead.
“Of course.” Quinn handed it to her, smiling. “Your face is a bit red.”
“It’s hotter out there than it has been since I started on the ship,” Rowan admitted, not caring in the least that she’d interrupted a conversation between Quinn and the man who technically served as their boss. “Plus, well, you know how black always seems to draw in the sun? I swear the fact that they’re all in black shorts and bathing suits seems to be having that effect on the deck.”
Michael snorted, genuinely amused. “I noticed the lack of color with the clothing choices. Do you think they all coordinated together?”
“I have no idea,” Rowan replied, slamming the glass of tea, not stopping until only ice remained. “They’re all extremely pasty and dressed in black, though, and it’s kind of jarring whenever I see someone actually wearing color. Also, in case you haven’t noticed, a couple of the women are wearing leather bikinis and they have metal studs on them that are sharp enough to scratch someone.”
“Really?” Michael leaned forward, craning his neck as interest overwhelmed him. “Point me in the right direction.”
Rowan furrowed her brow. “Why?”
“Because he’s a complete and total pervert,” Quinn replied, smirking as his friend made an exaggerated face. “Now that you’ve mentioned studs that have the ability to actually hurt someone, he’s not going to be able to stop himself from seeing them … and probably touching them, too.”
“I would argue with that assessment, but he’s not wrong,” Michael said, grinning. “Which woman?”
Rowan extended a finger and pointed toward a brunette near the railing. “Her name is Raven Stone. No joke. She says her name is Raven.”
Quinn chuckled, his hand mo
ving to Rowan’s back and slipping underneath her shirt so he could run his fingers over her soft skin. She was a bit sweaty from the overbearing sun, but he didn’t mind. He just wanted to touch her.
“I don’t care what her name is,” Michael said. “I just care that she wants me to join her stud collection.” He waited a beat before waggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. “Do you get it?”
Rowan and Quinn groaned in unison.
“You would have to be blind and deaf to miss that one,” Quinn said, shaking his head as he recovered. “She seems like exactly your type, though, so you might want to get her before someone else snags her.”
“Good idea.” Michael drained the rest of his iced tea before scampering away from the table.
Rowan heaved out a heavy sigh before taking Michael’s chair and sinking into it. “Is it just me, or is it really hot today?”
“You’re really hot every day.” Quinn’s eyes lit with mirth as she made a face. “Too much?”
Rowan held two fingers about an inch apart. “Just a little. I’ll let it slide, though, because you’re cute and I like it when you smile.”
“Oh, that’s sweet.” Quinn poked her side. “I promise to keep my smile in place for the rest of the night if you agree to have dinner with me.”
Rowan answered without hesitation. “I would love to have dinner with you. Can we eat in the main dining room instead of the crew mess hall, though? I have a hankering for crab legs.”
Quinn chuckled, genuinely amused. “When don’t you have a hankering for crab legs?”
“Probably never.”
“We can go to the main dining room. You know that you have special privileges as part of your hiring package, right? You don’t need me to take you to the main dining room. You can go whenever you want.”
“Maybe I like going with you,” Rowan teased. “Have you ever considered that?”
Quinn leaned closer so their lips were all but touching. “That was a very good answer,” he breathed out.
“I thought so.”
Quinn wanted to kiss her. He itched to do it, in fact. Technically they were both on shift, though, and he didn’t want to set a bad example. It took everything he had to increase the distance between them. “Seven o’clock?”
Stormy Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 3) Page 4
