by Kim Linwood
“God, you’re acting like you’re fifteen, Mom.” I laugh with her. “What’s next? You going to tear petals off flowers or carve your initials into the tree in the backyard?”
“Oh, come on. Let your mother have her giddy moments every once in a while, huh? This is huge. He’s saved my business. Now I suddenly have the financial backing to promote and get our name out there. Maybe improve the shop a little. Get better quality inventory. All sorts of things.” She gets quiet for a second. “I’m sorry, baby. I know you’re hurting. I just had to get that off my chest.”
“It’s okay. Honest. He ended up being a real jerk.” Massive understatement. “I’m really happy for you. You deserve a break.” I smile. It’s nice to get some good news today. It was rough learning about why Paul ended up black, blue and Violet. I giggle at my own joke, but quietly so I don’t have to explain.
“I’m supposed to meet Herbie, so I’m just getting ready. Are you coming home tonight?”
Yeah, probably not. “Nah, I’m going to hang with Cassie a couple of more nights, I think. It’s been a while since we’ve had some just us time, you know? And with college coming up and everything...” I hate lying to Mom, but she’ll kill me if she finds out where I really am. I’ll probably have to tell her sooner or later, a two week sleepover isn’t very believable, but I can stall for a couple of days at least.
“Of course. I understand completely. In fact, that gives me the perfect opportunity to thank Herbie properly, if you know what I—”
“Stop! There are some things I don’t need to know, Mom.” I wrinkle my nose at the thought, but I can’t help laughing either. It’s really funny to hear her acting like a teenager. Puppy love at forty-seven. Who’d have thought?
She laughs too. “Alright, I get it. I’m just excited.” She draws a breath, reining in the giggles. “Listen, I’m going to go, but let me know when you know when you’re coming home. I want some girl time with my girl too, alright? ”
“I know, Mom. Me too. Just, you know... hang a sock on the front door in case I forget to knock. There’s only so much trauma I can take.”
She laughs. “Will do. Love you, Honey.”
“Love you, Mom.”
I hang up, thinking about Mom’s new love and what that means for me. I’m stuck with Gavin. He might not be such a bad guy underneath it all, but I’m not convinced I can really trust him. Still, just because I don’t hate him doesn’t mean I can’t give him a hard time. That’s what little sisters are all about, aren’t they? Even if they’re stepsisters?
And I can’t think of a better place to start than dinner. He won’t know what hit him.
Chapter 16: Gavin
When Angie walks in, my hors d’oeuvre almost gets stuck in my throat. Wouldn’t that be hilarious? Death by a pig in a fucking blanket. A near porked-to-death experience. Goddamn, she looks fantastic. I saw the dress in the store, but all made up? She fucking owns the place.
The bright red fabric waves like a flag, taunting all the bulls in the room. Bet they’d love a go, but she’s here for me. She’s put her hair up in a naughty librarian bun, pinned in place with some fancy stick thing, and I’m already fantasizing about tugging it out and watching her hair come loose as I push her onto our bed.
Sashaying across the room, putting one foot right in front of the other as she struts in her new black stilettos, her hips sway in a way that’s fucking hypnotic. Hips I want to grab. That I want to hold onto while I have her bent over the bed, while I pound into her. She sees me from across the room, and from her knowing smile, I’m guessing my jaw’s currently scraping the floor. I don’t give a fuck.
Jesus H. Christ.
I mean, yeah, obviously I know she’s fucking hot, but damn. As she gets closer, I see she’s put on bright red lipstick that matches the dress. I want that lipstick smeared down my cock. If she doesn’t tone it down, I might just pick her up and carry her right up to the room, and she can scream all she wants about chastity vows on the way, because we both know it’s not a question of yes or no, only when.
She laughs quietly as she closes in. “You’re going to catch flies like that.” She’s trying to keep cool, but her voice is a little husky. I love it. Still, I close my mouth.
I’m not the only one staring. Almost every eye in the restaurant is on her, and on a cruise that’s basically packed with the rich and attractive, that’s saying something. I should grab her and carry her off before someone she doesn’t think is an asshole decides he needs to trade in his trophy wife for a younger model.
But Angie? She hasn’t noticed a thing. She’s got one of those cherry red lips caught between her teeth, and she only has eyes for me. Waiting for me to say something, like she cares what I think. What I think, is that no matter what I said earlier that day, she’s the one with class.
“You look fucking fantastic, babe.” I offer my arm to her. “Every single guy in the room is jealous of me right now, knowing it’s me and not them who’s going to take you up to the room and bang you tonight.”
She blinks a couple of times before she takes my arm and laughs. “In your dreams, asshole.” Her tone is friendly and happy, but low enough that no one can hear the actual words.
A smile spreads on my face as I take us to our table. Yesterday she would’ve stormed off after a comment like that, but now she laughs and throws it right back.
The captain stands when we get to the table. He’s tall. Taller than me, even, which doesn’t happen often. He’s older, short hair peppered with grey. He stands like he’s got a rod up his ass and I bet he’s ex-Navy. His beard’s neatly trimmed, not a hair is out of place. He doesn’t need his white dress uniform to show he’s the captain, but I’m sure the ladies love it.
His whole look seems contrived to look as handsome sea captain as possible. He looks me over, probably noting that my clothes say money, but my attitude says ‘fuck you’. We’re both players, we just use different rules.
Holding out his hand to Angie, he takes hers and bends to kiss it. “Welcome aboard my vessel, Miss Wilson. No wonder Mr. Caldwell’s taken to you. If you’re as kind as you’re beautiful, he’s a lucky man indeed. My name is Captain Charles Melbourne.”
Smooth moves, Popeye.
Her soft pink blush goes bright red. She does a semblance of a curtsy, but looks completely taken aback by his approach. “Tha—Thank you, Captain Melbourne.”
Is she actually falling for this shit?
“Please, call me Chuck.” He turns to me and extends his hand. Our handshake’s one of those grapples for dominance, both of us squeezing like we’re trying to force the other to cry uncle. Neither of us does, but I hope his hand’s as sore as mine. His steely gray eyes meet mine and he grins. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Caldwell.”
“Please, call me Ga—Herb. Yeah, call me Herb.” Oh fucking hell. I should’ve stuck with Mr. Caldwell. I glance at Angie and she looks like she’s barely containing her laughter. Oh, I’m gonna fucking get her for that later.
“Very well, Herb. Thank you. Now if you’d like to be seated, I believe the rest of our guests are here. He gestures. “Mrs. Joyce Merriweather, Mrs. Mabel van der Pelt.” Oh, the two oldies from check-in. “Mr. Hank Lennox and his wife Tracy, Mr. David Browning and his wife Melissa, and last, but certainly not least, Mr. Cole Elswood and his very lovely wife Karen.”
I greet all of them, knowing I won’t remember a single name after five minutes or so. They don’t matter anyway. Why should it, when we aren’t even who we’re supposed to be?
Our seats are right next to the Captain, with Angie on his left, me on her left, then Joyce and so on all the way around the table. A whole evening to play newlyweds. What can possibly go wrong?
Captain Melbourne... Chuck seizes onto Angie almost immediately. Between them making small talk on one side and Joyce busily entertaining Mabel on the other, I’m feeling just a little ignored. Angie is my fake fiancée. I don’t expect any better from Chuck, but she should at least pretend to give m
e her full attention. So I do what I do best. Make trouble.
I butt in, shifting my chair closer and putting my arms around her waist. “How’s it going, honeybuns?”
She starts at my touch, but keeps her happy girlfriend mask on. “Just peachy, pookie.”
“Your wife-to-be’s lovely, Herb. What did you do to deserve her?” Chuck laughs, and it sounds really fucking condescending to me. I’m just going to assume he isn’t going to actually put the moves on my fiancée, but he’s definitely posturing. Even if we’re just faking, it still pisses me off.
But I can do fake smiles too. “Oh, I don’t know, Chuck. I just treat her the best I can, you know. Give her the world and she’ll never need more.”
“Oh, of course. I’m sure a woman as beautiful as her gets a lot of attention.” He’s really talking at her more than me when he says it. Angie looks like she’s eating it up, which bugs the hell out of me. Smiling and chewing her lower lip, she’s looking at him with huge eyes, looking very impressed. I kick her ankle to get her attention.
She plants the heel of her shoe on my foot and turns towards me. “What is it, dear?”
God, those lips. Her voice is pleasant, but her eyes sparkle with amusement. She’s fucking playing me.
Shit, I have nothing to say. That’s a first. “Have you tried the scallops? They’re really good.”
“Oh, Herbie.” She pats my cheek softly, laughing when she sees me bristle at the name. “You know I’m allergic to shellfish.”
“Right. Of course.” I glare at her. “I don’t know how I forgot.” Maybe because she never told me? This whole conversation is bullshit, but I want her focused on me, and not him.
She turns to the Captain. “You see? He makes me so happy. So eager to share that he forgets himself sometimes. It’s like having a little puppy.”
They both laugh, and it’s at my fucking expense, so I do the mature thing and reach underneath the table and pinch Angie’s ass.
“Ow!” She jumps in her chair, then whirls and glares at me. Serious daggers this time. Poisoned. With teeth.
“Are you alright, Marie?” Chuck asks. She’d given him her mother’s name when she sat down, which was good thinking. I have no idea how much information they have on us or not. Angie can be frustrating, but she pays attention.
“What? Yes, sorry. Just a muscle that cramped for a second. It happens sometimes. A serious pain in my backside.” She smiles sweetly, and I grin at her little jab.
“Oh, I understand. In fact that reminds me of a story from back in the Navy.” For the next fifteen minutes we’re subjected to the most self fucking centered saga I’ve ever heard. Chuck’s apparently filled every possible role that exists on the sea, and his tale is basically one long brag about him in a boat with a leak before it sank.
Fine, so it was during a storm and his navigator had spent most of the storm hanging over the rail, puking his guts out. The compass was spinning wildly, the engine only fired half the time and there might have been a fucking kraken or something. I don’t know. Pretty sure he’s just making shit up. Angie looks fucking enthralled though.
I have no clue whether she really believes him, or if she’s doing it just to annoy me, but she’s got me pissed either way. I’m just about to pinch her again when someone kicks my shoe. I turn and find Joyce’s eyes on me, looking like she thinks she’s so damned clever.
I misplace my charm and snap at her, “What?”
She completely ignores my tone. “She’s not interested in him, you know.”
“Of course not.” Am I that obvious? “Why?”
“We had a little chat earlier. She’s a sweet girl.” Joyce pauses to take a sip of her wine. “You hurt her today. It was obvious.”
Wait, Angie’s confiding in old ladies now? “So why wouldn’t she leave, then?” I’m half amused, half curious.
“If you can make her that mad, she’s got a soft spot for you. Only those you love can truly hurt you.” She smiles warmly and puts her wrinkled old hand on top of mine. It’s like talking relationships with my grandmother, except mine is probably on a beach in Cabo with her new boy toy. Come to think of it, they’d probably get along great.
I return her smile. “Good to know.” I shrug. “I just have to do my best to make it up to her.” My teeth ache from all this sweet talk. We’re engaged and I’m supposed to be in love and shit, when I really only want to turn around and bust Chuck’s Pinocchio nose.
Joyce narrows her eyes at me. “Are you good with your tongue?”
“What?” She didn’t just ask what I think she did, did she?
“You want to make it up to her. Don’t you? A good tongue will get you far. Henry... he was my favorite husband, you see. Number three. Anyway, Henry could do this little thing with his tongue that drove me crazy. Right up the wall.” Her gaze goes distant while she remembers.
I laugh quietly. Yeah, she and Grandma would get along just fine. They’re both fucking nuts. But whatever. She seems nice enough.
She snaps back to the present. “Anyway, all I’m saying is this, young man, a tongue can get you out of as much trouble as it gets you into. It certainly worked on me. Of course that was back when I could get my knees behind my ears. Henry and I were married almost thirty years before his heart attack. Oh, I miss him still.”
I try not to shudder visibly. I mean, sure I know old people have sex. I bet it’s fucking great. Awesome. Beyond belief. I hope I’m one of them someday. I could live without the visual though.
“Just think about it, dearie.” She winks, then returns her attention to her friend, leaving me confused and a little bit queasy. I shake my head and turn back to Angie and Chuck.
“So there I was, and I swear the shark I had on my hook was thirty feet long. At least. The biggest shark I’ve seen before or since. Massive. It fought like it knew it was facing the end of its days, pulling and charging and doing everything it could to drag me into the water rather than the other way around. Hell, I had six guys lined up to keep me on board, one after the other. We didn’t have a proper shark-fishing chair, and so we just jammed ourselves up against the railing and prayed we’d pull the beast up over the rail.” Chuck wipes his face like he’s getting sweaty just telling the most ridiculous fishing tale ever.
“Anyway, as I mentioned before, we were going through the Gulf of Aden at the time, which is a hotbed of piracy any time of year. On top of that, it was a particularly rough year for unrest in Somalia, so there we were, right in the middle of hauling aboard the largest shark possibly recorded ever, anywhere, and all of us unable to take our eyes off the gruesome battle of life and death unfolding in our wake.
“But something, a feeling or a kind of premonition, spooked me. I looked up for a second, and spotted them. The pirates were almost on top of us, gaining quickly in six powerful speed boats. They were already so close I could read the ruthless expressions on their faces and see that they were armed to the teeth. Their decks were so loaded down with firepower, I was surprised they didn’t sink, much less be able to come at us so quickly.
“So I was faced with a tough decision: defeat the king of all sharks, or save my crew. Reluctantly, I released my fishing pole and let the shark drag it into the inky depths. Then we scrambled to our stations to escape.”
Is this guy for fucking real? Not sure what amazes me more. That he’s able to spout off all this horseshit with a straight face, or that Angie’s watching him with wide eyes and her sexy little mouth half open.
“How did you get away?” Angie’s playing right into his hands. I give her a quick kick under the table, but she ignores me. Really? I’ll stream Jaws for her if she wants a crazy shark story. It’s probably just as real.
Chuck’s only happy to keep on spewing crap. “This is where the story gets really incredible. It looked bad. Real bad. Our ship wasn’t quick enough to get away, and at the rate the pirates were coming, we realized running was impossible. We were just getting out harpoon guns, flare pistols and anythi
ng else we could conceivably use for a weapon, when something happened that I’ve never seen the likes of and probably never will again.
“The closest boat was just about to come into boarding range, when the water exploded underneath it. Surging out of the ocean like a watery demon hell-bent on revenge, the same goddamn shark we’d been fighting for the last hour surfaced with the boat in its very jaws! I’m not joking when I say it almost capsized us, and launched them a full twenty feet into the air. When it struck the water, their boat broke clear in two.
“The other boats stopped, their crews yelling in panic. Like the demons they are, they left their buddies to their watery deaths, turned and raced off as fast as their overpowered engines would take them. Even then, they weren’t quite fast enough. The shark nailed another one, capsizing it and spilling everyone onboard into the water. It was the craziest damn sight I’ve seen in my whole life, but without that shark, I might not be sitting here today, and that’s the truth.”
“Oh Chuck, that’s amazing. You must’ve been terrified.” When I see her put her hands on his jacket sleeve, that’s enough. Maybe she thinks I’m an ass, but I’m not going to sit here while she fawns over a bullshitter like him, just because he’s got more stripes on his sleeve than I do.
So I pinch her ass again.
“Yow!” She turns to me and hisses in a sharp whisper. “What the hell is your problem?”
Putting my hand on her thigh, I grip it tightly, whispering back. “My problem is that you’re a piss-poor fiancée. If we’re going to pull this off, we can’t let them figure out that we’re not our parents.”
She gives me a look like she thinks I’m an idiot. “What, are the cruise line ninjas hiding under our table or something? Why on earth would they even suspect anything?” She frowns. “At least Chuck’s entertaining, which is more than I can say for you. You can sit and brood all you want, but I’m at the Captain’s table, and I’m going to enjoy it.” And with that she turns back to him.
