by Kim Linwood
“Why so glum, dearie?” Someone else has braved the gloom to come to share the view, and I didn’t even notice. I look up and find one of the old ladies from reception. Jane? Julie? Joyce.
I shake my head. “You wouldn’t understand.” How could anyone comprehend this mess?
“Try me.” She looks frail, but her voice is firm, maybe even a little offended. “You don’t think I’ve been around the block a few times? You don’t get this old by not living, kid.” She snorts.
“Sorry. Rough day.” I look back out at the water.
“Husband trouble.” She nods at my astonished look. “I’ve been there. I’ve had four of them.”
Part of me wants to burst out and tell her the whole thing, but what if she goes and tells someone? I’ll play it safe. “He’s not my husband yet.” I flash a smile. “Not ever, if he keeps this up.”
“Oh dear, that does sound horrible. Give him some time.” She smiles. “But not too much. Too much, and you kick him out on his ass, dearie.” Turning back towards the water, she examines the horizon while I look at her with shock. “But you need to talk to him. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”
I have a hard time concealing a laugh. “Alright, so how do I know when it’s too much?”
She shrugs. “When the thought of tearing his clothes off and making up doesn’t feel worth the trouble. And the good ones are always trouble, bless their jackass hearts.” Making as if to leave, she turns. “I have to make sure Mabel’s not up to anything. Most likely, she’s waiting at the lunch buffet.”
I watch her go, old and hunched over, but with steady steps. “Thanks for the advice.” I think.
She waves briefly. “Of course, dearie. Remember. If he doesn’t make you tingle, then out he goes. Now go talk to him. Life’s too short for useless husbands.” She gives me a little wink. “But if he’s a good fuck, give him a chance. Make-up sex is worth a few tears.” And with that, she walks off, leaving me speechless. Did she really just say that?
I’m still blinking when she opens the door into the ship and disappears. I can’t tell if she’s off her rocker or brilliant. Either way, she’s probably got a point. Gavin might not actually be my husband-to-be, but I’m going to have to deal with him for the rest of the cruise.
With a sigh, I go to find him. Like it or not, he does make me tingle.
Chapter 14: Angie
It takes an hour of scouring the ship, but eventually I find him in one of the many bars onboard. The ship is like a miniature floating city, but cleaner. Why it needs that many bars for one ship I have no idea, but they all have themes. Like the one I tracked him down in. It has an old timey western feel. The sort of theme park Wild West that probably never existed outside movies. Saloon doors, a long bar and a burly bartender who looks like he’s about to spit in the glass he’s holding to wash it.
Gavin’s off in a corner, nursing something golden amber that probably isn’t apple juice.
I slide into the chair across from him. “Howdy pardner.”
He looks up, his hazel eyes glassy. “Did you remember something else to bitch at me about, or just couldn’t stay away?”
The bitter tone in his voice makes me wince, because he isn’t far off. Is it possible I actually managed to hurt him? I push aside the guilt. He probably doesn’t deserve it. “Sober up. I need you to answer something, and for once can you just be honest with me?”
Waiting for him to straighten up, I put my elbows on the table and lean my chin on my hands. Even buzzed, he’s hot as hell, his t-shirt painted on him, showing every ridge and edge of his chiseled physique. Joyce’s advice rattles around uncomfortably in my brain, but I’m not ready to forgive and forget.
Maybe he actually realizes that I’m serious, since he sits up and blinks away the booze fog. With a frown, he watches me intently. “Alright. I’m listening.”
That went almost too easily. “Did you know cell phones work here? I had no idea.”
“Of course they do. All of these ships have cell service. They have indoor plumbing and Wi-Fi too, but I guess that’s not what you’re here to tell me about, though I appreciate the public service announcement.” One of his eyebrows arches just barely.
“I was just on the phone with Cassie.”
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
“The girl who set us up that... night.” The Incident. Even now I can’t keep heat from flushing my face when I remember.
“The one with the slut phone?”
It takes a second before I realize what he’s talking about. “Yeah, her,” I reply with a little smile. “She told me something, but I’m not sure I understand. I’m pretty sure it’s about you.”
“Me?”
“And Paul.” I lock my eyes to his expecting... something, but he meets them with no reservations. “Yesterday.”
“Ah.” He doesn’t look away.
“Yeah. Ah. What the hell happened, Gavin?” I lean forward, looking for a shred of remorse. Regret. Something. “Why did Cassie tell me someone kicked his ass yesterday? Probably right around the time you were there.”
He shrugs. “Probably because I kicked his ass yesterday.”
Of all the freaking nerve! “Why the hell would you do that? It’s not like you couldn’t just buy a ticket with your pocket change. Was it just to mess with me? That’s over the top, even for you.”
Gavin’s eyes flash and he leans in so close that our noses almost touch. “You think so? Let me ask you something, then. What’s Paul’s girlfriend’s name?” His eyes look huge, filling my vision. Dark and stormy, they draw me in.
“That’s a stupid question.” I say it real slow. “Angie. Do you want me to spell it for you?”
He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “No, the other one.”
“What other one?”
“Violet.” He sneers, one side of his lip lifting in a grimace like he just stepped in something.
What the hell? Who’s Violet? “Who?”
“You know, his girlfriend. The one he was fucking when I came looking for him. Her name was Violet. Real pretty. Huge fucking tits. They jiggled back and forth so hard while he laid into her I thought she was gonna smack herself in the face.”
I want to believe he’s joking, but his face is like stone, dead serious. “I don’t believe you.” Unfortunately, I do, but I don’t want to. I refuse to. “And wait, they were fucking? Did you break into their bedroom or something? How batshit crazy are you?”
“Hey, I rang the fucking doorbell. Not my fault she screamed come in. Or maybe it was I’m coming, now that I think about it. They were coked out of their minds, either way.”
“What?”
“Did he ever offer to share? It’s the least he could do when you share him with Violet, and who the fuck knows who else.”
“Coke? Like—” He can’t possibly be saying what I think he is.
“White powder. Usually you snort it off a mirror. Fucks you up. Disgusting shit.”
“He doesn’t do—” I said I wanted honest, but I didn’t want this. This is too much.
“Of course not. It was probably just Violet’s and he had to hold it for her.” He leans back with a shrug, but his face shows what he really thinks.
“I see.” I don’t know what to say, or think. Paul wouldn’t do something like that. Sure, he’s rough around the edges, but drugs? Other women? I’m the only one he wants, right? He said so. And Gavin would totally say stuff like this just to get a rise out of me.
Emotion bubbles up, lumping up in my throat. I was going to let Paul be my first. That’s why I ran away from Gavin in the first place. Why I couldn’t do it. What a hypocrite I am. I was this close to having sex with Gavin. Is that much better?
I’m getting angry. I can feel it, but I don’t know who to aim it at. Paul, myself, Gavin? Is he telling the truth, or is this just another try at manipulating me? With a glare, I snap, “I don’t believe you.”
“Call him.” He’s dead c
alm.
“Alright.” Yeah. I’ll call his bluff. “I will.” Pulling out my phone, I tap Paul’s name. His icon is a little red heart, which makes me wince. Gavin’s lying. I know he is.
I know he isn’t.
The phone rings forever. Come on, pick up. I know you’re there, Paul. It just keeps ringing. Maybe he’s busy. This is stupid. What am I even going to say? Meanwhile, Gavin swirls the liquid in his glass, making no sign of backing down.
I’m just about to hang up when there’s an answer. “Hello?” The voice is unclear, slow and decidedly female.
“Who’s this?” Not the most polite way to start a phone call, but I’m past polite.
“It’s Violet. Duh. Who’re you?”
“Duh. Angie. Paul’s girlfriend.” I leave the, “you bitch,” unsaid. For now.
Her voice is muffled as she screams to someone else in the room. “There’s some bitch on the phone saying she’s your girlfriend. You wanna explain that shit?” There’s a mumbled reply that I can’t make out, and then she’s back on the line, her voice so caustic I’m surprised it doesn’t melt my ear right off. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but stay the fuck away from Paul.” I don’t think she spits, but it wouldn’t surprise me. The last thing I hear before the line goes dead is, “Crazy-ass bitch.”
I almost throw my phone across the bar. The tears come before I can stop them. I don’t know if I’m sad or just angry. Probably both, or maybe there’s just a limit to how much anyone can be expected to take in a twenty-four hour period and I just passed it. Resting my arms on my elbows and my face in my hands, I sob right there at the table. Crap, I don’t want to do this in public.
“Come here.” His voice is unusually gentle as Gavin takes my hand and pulls me toward him, around the table. I don’t know why I let him. He’s my asshole stepbrother, but right now I just want comfort, and he’s offering it. Drawing me right into his lap, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close. No teasing. No bullying. Just holding.
“I’m still mad at you, you know,” I tell him between sniffles. Wait a minute. I look up at him through itchy, watery eyes. “Why were you even there? Why’d you beat him up?”
Gavin laughs, and I can feel the rumble in his chest. “I know Paul. I know what kind of shit he’s up to. I just didn’t know he was your Paul until the other night.” He wrinkles his nose. “You have shitty taste in guys, babe.”
That’s totally what I want to hear. I push off him. “Thanks for reminding me. You’re so right.”
“You little brat,” he laughs. Instead of letting me go, he pulls me closer. I try to get away, but he’s too strong.
I drop back into his lap with grunt. “Let me up, you bully.”
He only laughs at me. “Guilty as charged. I could punch guys in the face for you all night long. Just line them up for me.”
I don’t even know if that’s sweet or just disturbing. “You’re a psycho.”
“I do what’s necessary. I only meant to tell him to back off. He’s the one who jumped me when I asked about you. No idea what he was thinking.” He arches an eyebrow. “Must’ve been the fucking coke.”
Jesus. “You didn’t consider something crazy, like calling the cops? Or telling me? Rather than beating the shit out of him? Sorry, that’s psycho reasoning.”
“Told ya, he threw the first punch. I was just gonna warn him.” He shrugs. “And tell him not to bother showing up, of course.”
“Of course.” Part of me really enjoys sitting here in his lap, much as I hate to admit it. He’s nice and warm, his strong arms wrapped protectively around me. On the other hand, he’s Gavin. “Are you going to let me up?”
“Nah.”
“Excuse me?” I look at him incredulously, daring him to repeat that.
“Nope. For once we aren’t arguing, and I like you right here. Your sexy little body rubbing against me, your sexy round ass grinding against my cock.” Even as he says it, I feel his bulge swelling under me. “The fact that I can look right down your shirt.”
Pulling the top of my shirt close to my body, I struggle against him. “Let. Me. Go!”
Surprisingly, he lets me up. “Fine. But you’re missing out.”
“I’m sure you can find someone to take care of you. That’s what guys do, isn’t it?” I glare at him. “You know, fuck around.”
“We aren’t all Paul, babe.” For a second his face softens. “Look, I’m sorry if something I said pissed you off, but I’m not sorry for fucking up Paul, and I’m not sorry he isn’t the one here right now.”
That was a sideways sort of non-apology, but it was more than I’d expected, and given the situation, I’d take it. “Yeah, well. I’m sorry if maybe I might have overreacted. You might not be quite as vile as I implied.”
“Oh, Sis, I knew you cared. Just save some of that love for dinner tonight. ‘Cause we’re gonna have to be all romantic and lovey dovey and shit. Unless you want to get put on land at the nearest port for sneaking aboard.”
He shrugs, like he couldn’t care less what happens. Which he probably doesn’t, because he could charter a jet to go home and leave me to hitchhike if he wanted. But he wouldn’t. I want to hate him, but I can’t, not anymore. ‘Like’ might be too strong a word, but... tingles.
I sigh. “Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ll even pretend to not be repulsed by you.”
“Aww, I can’t wait.” Leaning back with his hands behind his head, he smiles broadly at me. “I expect a lot of making out, babe.”
“I’m sure you do,” I say sweetly. “But you know, with my chastity vows and all, we’re going to have to keep things decent until we’re actually married.” I blink at him innocently. “I’d hate to go back on my vows now that we’re so close.”
He actually laughs out loud. “We’ll see, babe. We’ll see.”
I turn to leave, then stop again. “Thanks.”
Sitting up, he give me a confused look. “For what?”
“For kicking Paul’s ass. You’re a Neanderthal, but nobody’s ever done something like that for me, so... thanks.” I shrug. “You’re almost acting like a real big brother, or something.”
He grins mischievously. “Does that mean we’ll fuck tonight?”
“I think you missed the ‘big brother’ part, perv.” This time I do walk off, calling over my shoulder, “See you at dinner.”
Chapter 15: Angie
I’ve just returned to our suite when the punchy beat of Momma Said Knock You Out bursts out of my phone. Great, now I have to explain where I am. I tap the phone and put it to my ear. “Hey, Mom.”
“Angela! Where have you been? I haven’t seen you since yesterday morning. I’ve been worried sick.” Her normally calm voice quavers, which seems over the top. It’s not like I haven’t been gone overnight before.
I keep my voice steady. “I’m fine. I’ve been over at Cassie’s. Paul and I broke up. I just needed some girl time, ya know? Is everything alright? You could’ve called if you were worried.” It feels cheap using something that just happened as emotional leverage, but she’ll never question a brokenhearted sleepover.
“Oh, honey...” She sounds sad for me, and I feel guilty for misleading her. “Take all the time you need. Things have been so busy lately. I’m sorry I haven’t been paying more attention. I just wanted to know you’re alright.”
“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine, promise.” It’s at that moment the ship’s horn blasts loudly, scaring the crap out of me.
“Honey, what was that? Are you down at the docks?”
“Uh... no, we’re just watching Titanic. You know. Chick movies, popcorn, PJs, the whole thing.” I think we did that once. That’s believable, right?
“Alright, you know that’s not a very good neighborhood.” She sounds suspicious, but not for the right reasons. “I don’t want to spoiler or anything, but the ship goes down.” We groan together.
“Thanks a lot, Mom. Now we’ll have to watch something else.” We laugh together too. “So
anyway, I’m safe and sound, watching movies so old DiCaprio looks young, and everything’s okay. Was that it?”
“Actually, there is something else.” She sounds excited. “You know business has been rough lately, right? I mean, it’s been turning around, but I’m behind on my loan payments for the shop.”
“Yeah.” It would be impossible not to notice, even though she tries to shield me from the money side of things. Mom’s spent almost every waking moment keeping that shop going. It makes us money, sort of, but never quite enough to keep our heads above water. I’ve grown up watching every nickle and dime, even when she didn’t ask me to. “Why? Don’t tell me you finally have to close?” Mom’s world will crumble if that’s the case.
“No! The opposite. Someone’s invested in us. We’re up to date on the payments again. We’re in the black, Angela!” She laughs happily, and I can almost picture her dancing around with her phone.
“Seriously? That’s awesome! What happened? Who is it? I didn’t even know you were looking for investors.”
“I wasn’t.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “And, he’s anonymous.”
“Anonymous?” It sounds like she knows more than she’s letting on.
“Well, he was. Your ol’ mom can be a bit of a sleuth when she wants to be.” Remembering her finding cigarettes in my drawers when I was fifteen, or finding out that I’d been sneaking sips out of our liquor bottles by measuring the content levels with a ruler when I was sixteen, I believe it. If she suspects something, she’s good at uncovering it. She continues happily. “Well, I did some Googling and found out that the company that invested is actually owned by Caldwell Industries.”
Whoa. Seriously? Gavin wasn’t wrong when he said my mother won the lottery. “You mean Herbert—”
“Of course! Who else could it be? He hasn’t said a word, but it came from this little company I’d never heard of. When I looked them up online, the website said they’re a subsidiary of Herbie’s company. It has to be him. He’s so modest. I bet he didn’t want me to feel like I owed him something. Now that’s true love.” Mom’s practically bubbling over with excitement.
