by Macy Beckett
“Go to bat for me,” Devyn finished. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”
What she didn’t know was why he’d fought so hard. Refusing to give it any further thought, she left the galley and followed the signs to the casino on the second floor. When she reached the double doors, she steeled herself and walked inside.
The noise of Metallica greeted her on the stereo, along with the vibrant greens of felt-covered blackjack tables and the flash of neon beer signs. Even with the overhead lights turned on and the rows of electronic slots lying dormant, Devyn was so visually overwhelmed that it took a moment to spot Beau in the back of the room near the bar. He didn’t notice as she approached, so she kept her footsteps quiet and watched him work.
A sheen of sweat had glued Beau’s T-shirt to his skin as he hauled an outdated video poker machine from the bar and replaced it with a new one featuring wizards or maybe a vampire theme. It was hard to tell because Devyn was too distracted by the man installing it. His powerful biceps bunched as he repositioned the heavy machinery. He was so completely male that it stopped Devyn in her tracks. He must have sensed her watching, because he turned and widened his eyes in surprise.
“Hey.” Beau lifted the front of his shirt and used it to wipe the sweat from his face. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
God help her. His flat slab of a belly was even harder than she remembered, all rippling muscle with a dusting of dark hair that encircled his navel and dipped below the waistband of his jeans. In another lifetime, she’d spent hours lying beside him in the cool shaded grass and let her fingernails trace that happy trail to where it ended. Which had resulted in a whole lot of heavy breathing. Her body remembered all too well. Even now, her blood warmed with recognition and sent heat pooling south of the border.
Damn her Judas lady bits.
“You done?” he asked, pointing at his exposed stomach. “Or do you want another minute?” When she answered by way of her middle finger, he tugged down his shirt. “So, did you make a decision?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m sticking around.”
“Really?” The way his whole face lit up told her he wasn’t expecting that answer. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Devyn studied her fingernails and pretended that his reaction didn’t cause her heart to swell. “What can I say? I love a challenge.”
“Come up with your own lesson plans if you want,” he said. “Let Ella-Claire know if you need any supplies, but try to keep it to a small list. We’re on a budget.”
“Sure.” The room began to feel small with the two of them standing there, Beau smiling at her like she’d just told him he won the Powerball. She took a step back, and then another. But she couldn’t leave before saying one last thing. “Thanks, by the way.”
“For what?”
“Allie told me what you did. I don’t know why you want me around so badly, but I’m glad you stood up for me.”
A crooked grin tugged Beau’s lips as he leaned an elbow on the bar. “Why, Devyn Mauvais. Are you being nice?”
She heaved a sigh. Why did he have to go and ruin it? “Enjoy it while you can. This is a onetime deal.” Then she left the sweaty caveman to his work and returned to the education center.
She’d rock this job, if for no other reason than to spite the Dumonts.
Chapter 4
When the day came for the Belle to embark on a two-week tour of the Mississippi, Devyn reported for duty wearing a frilly lace-up corset dress instead of her uniform of a staff polo and khakis. Her costume wasn’t the most historically accurate of reproductions—in fact, she looked more like a pirate’s wench than a proper lady of the Victorian era—but the kids in the education center wouldn’t know that. They’d see her outfit and beg to dress up themselves; then she’d launch into an enthralling history lesson that would captivate them for the rest of the afternoon.
That was the goal, anyway.
But first she needed to get her room assignment and drop off her duffel bag. When she approached the purser’s desk, Ella-Claire glanced up from her computer and did a double take.
Devyn smiled, remembering her sister’s words about lightening up. “History by immersion,” she said. “We’re playing dress-up in the center today.”
“Aww.” Ella tipped her head as if admiring a puppy. “What a fun idea.”
Fun wasn’t the word Devyn had in mind, but whatever. She dug into her dress pocket and handed over a tiny red satchel tied with yellow string, a peace offering to make up for their shaky first encounter. “I made some gris-gris for you. It’s for love and luck.”
Ella brought a grateful hand to her breast, her gaze softening. “Allie used to make these for me, but she quit.”
“I know,” Devyn said.
The fact that Allie had abandoned their heritage was a bone of contention between them. Allie claimed she had never believed in voodoo, that she’d faked the rituals and told her clients what they needed to hear to help them change. She called it self-fulfilling prophesy. Devyn called it faithlessness. Tomato, to-mah-to.
“She said this kind was your favorite.”
“Thanks,” Ella said. Still beaming, she pocketed her gift. “That was thoughtful of you.”
“Anyway, I need my room assignment so I can get settled in.” Devyn hoped her roommate didn’t snore. She was a light sleeper, and if the Dumonts thought she was scary now, they should see her after a bout of insomnia.
Instead of looking up the information, Ella watched her in silent contemplation. When she spoke, her words were tentative. “There’s an open spot in my room. If you want it.”
Luckily, Devyn was able to maintain her smile, despite mingled feelings on the offer. Ella-Claire seemed like a sweet girl, but if they had both slept with Beau . . . well, that could make for an awkward two weeks on the water. However, there was no way to decline the invitation without hurting Ella’s feelings, so in the end, the decision made itself.
Devyn made a show of widening her eyes in enthusiasm. “Really? That would be awesome! Allie’s told me so many wonderful things about you.”
“You, too!” Ella said as she flashed a thousand-watt smile that made Devyn instantly regret any negative thoughts she’d had about the girl. Ella was so excited that her ponytail was swinging. “Here,” she said, handing over an old-fashioned key on a string. “Staff rooms are down below. We’re in lucky number thirteen. I already took the bottom bunk, so I hope you don’t mind the top.”
Bunk beds? Devyn suppressed a sigh. What was next, days-of-the-week underpants and juice boxes? “That’s my favorite,” she lied smoothly. “See you around, roomie.”
She made her way down to room thirteen and unlocked the door. When she let herself inside, she nearly banged her shins on the bed frame. She had assumed the rooms would be small, but this was more like a closet. Between the bunks and a single dresser pressed against the side wall, there was barely enough room to turn around. And she had to share this space with a roommate?
Good thing she wasn’t claustrophobic.
She tossed her duffel onto the top mattress and noticed an adjoining doorway. It seemed they had their own bathroom. That was something to be grateful for . . . or so she thought. A peek inside showed nothing but a miniature sink and a standing shower stall, the whole bathroom no bigger than an airplane lavatory. Where was the toilet?
She texted the question to her sister.
Moments later, Allie replied, Check behind the shower curtain.
Devyn pulled aside the plastic panel and gasped out loud. Her fingers flew over the cell phone screen. Are you f-ing kidding me? A toilet in the shower??? That’s so wrong!
Biting her lip, she glanced at her duffel bag. She hadn’t unpacked it yet. If she hurried, she might be able to give her resignation and escape before the boat pulled away from the dock.
I know, right? Allie texted. Even the suites are like that. You get used to it after a while.
“Not friggin’ likely,” Devyn muttered. We can drink when we’
re off duty, right? Because I’m going to need a stiff one later.
Allie replied, That’s what SHE said.
A much-needed laugh shook Devyn’s chest. You’re warped. Wish me luck today.
You make your own luck.
No arguments there. And since there was no use in delaying the inevitable, Devyn headed to the education center for her first day of “school.”
She found the room empty, which didn’t surprise her because the passengers were still boarding. The quiet was exactly what she needed to calm her jittery pulse, so she used the lull to her advantage by arranging a variety of hats and old-style vests on the table, along with the scavenger hunt worksheets she’d prepared. She had just finished going over her plans for the day when heavy footsteps drew her attention to the doorway.
Only one person could make such a clatter walking on foam tiles, and when she turned to face him, her already unstable pulse skipped a beat. Beau was in uniform—wearing a gold-embellished white dress shirt and coat over freshly-pressed slacks, a black tie knotted at the base of his broad neck. The effect was strikingly debonair, even with sunglasses pushed atop his head.
Clearly God was trying to test her.
Grinning like the devil himself, Beau appraised her costume, and in a few smooth strides, he closed the distance between them. Devyn knew she should back up, but he held her captive with his mesmerizing green gaze, and her feet refused to budge. He smelled delicious in his unique way. Familiar, like Irish Spring soap and store-brand shampoo. No frills for this man.
“Nice.” His words dripped honey while he dragged an index finger slowly down the length of her corset laces, then all the way back up again. “Very nice.”
Devyn’s corset stays must have been too tight, because it took a moment to catch her breath. “You’re not too painful to look at either.”
“Not too painful?” he repeated with a deep chuckle. “Enough with the wild praise, darlin’. You’re making me blush.”
Darlin’. Like that meant anything. He said it to all the girls, including Devyn’s new roommate. The reminder helped snap her out of whatever lusty haze she’d fallen into. She smacked his hand and skirted the table to gain some distance. “I’ve got a job to do, so if you don’t mind . . .”
“Not at all.” In one quick motion, he snagged her fingers and bent to sweep a kiss over her knuckles. His eyes never left hers, and she felt the touch of his lips in more places than just her hand. “I’ll be back to check on you later.”
Before she could tell him not to bother, he strode from the room.
Devyn blew out a breath and tried to refocus. She tracked down ten pencils and clipboards, just in case all of her students showed up for the scavenger hunt, but an hour passed without the pitter-patter of any feet, little or otherwise. Eventually the room director, who doubled as one of the infant caregivers, joined her.
Mrs. Grayson explained that most passengers would keep their children with them on the first day, to acclimate them to the new environment. “The only people who’ll make drop-offs today,” she confided behind her hand, “are the ones who don’t want their kids here.”
“But if the parents want to be alone, why bring the kids at all?” Devyn had seen the brochures, and more specifically, the fare breakdown. Two weeks aboard the Belle cost more than the same number of nights at a top-notch Caribbean resort. And kids weren’t free.
Mrs. Grayson turned up her palms. “It happens. More often than not, because of custody arrangements or last-minute changes of plan.”
“Ah.” Devyn understood. “It’s Mom’s week to have the kids, and Dad can’t keep them.”
“Something like that.”
As it turned out, the woman nailed it. When the first—and only—children shuffled into the education center that afternoon, they were brothers tagging along on a honeymoon with their mom and brand-new step-dad. Devyn didn’t know which was worse, having to bring your kids on your honeymoon, or being the kid. Because, seriously. How awkward.
The first boy, a shaggy-haired nine-year-old in a Super Mario Bros. T-shirt, crept into the room in baby steps while scanning his surroundings. When his gaze landed on the video gaming station in the back corner, he stood a bit straighter and lengthened his stride until he stood before Devyn with a hopeful grin.
But his big brother clearly resented being here. Wearing a Saints ball cap and a frown, the twelve-year-old sauntered forward with both hands shoved in his pockets and gave an eye roll that said, I’m too old for this shit.
Devyn felt him loud and clear. Welcome to my world, kid. She brightened her smile and invited the boys to join her at the table, where she’d arranged all her materials. “I’m Miss Mauvais, and I’m glad you came. It was getting too quiet in here.”
The younger one pointed at the gaming station. “Do you have Super Smash Brothers Brawl?”
Devyn blinked at him. Was he speaking English?
Without asking permission, he bolted to the corner and tore open the plastic bin of games, then started digging through dozens of cases. His brother shuffled over in his Converse Chucks and picked through a second bin. Neither had seemed to notice her costume, or maybe they just didn’t care. Devyn looked to Mrs. Grayson for guidance, but found none. The woman told Devyn she was taking her lunch break and left her alone with the boys.
She watched them pluck a case from the bin and inspect the gaming disk for scratches. When the older brother moved to turn on the Nintendo, she stopped him.
“Here’s the thing . . .” Devyn took the game from them and set it next to the television. “I know it’s vacation, but I’m supposed to teach you something.” She glanced at the information cards their mother had filled out. “In fact, I have to sign some forms telling your school what you learned on this trip, or your absence won’t be excused.”
Both boys groaned.
“Hey,” she said, resting a hand on her heart. “I don’t make the rules.”
“But this is supposed to be fun,” whined the younger boy. “Mom promised.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Devyn said. “For every two minutes you spend with me, I’ll give you one minute on the Nintendo. That should give you about an hour to play after the main lesson.”
The older brother pursed his lips in consideration, obviously doing that math. “Together or separate?”
“Together,” she said. “There’s only one console, so you’ll have to pick two-player games anyway.”
He heaved an epic sigh worthy of the most angst-ridden tween. “Fine. Whatever.” He gave his brother a knowing look. “It’s not like we have a say in any of this.”
Devyn had a feeling the kid was referring to more than just a history lesson. “I hear your mom got married. That’s exciting, huh?”
A glare was his only reply.
Devyn didn’t let it get her down. With this age group, sulking was par for the course. “It was nice of her to bring you on the honeymoon. My parents never took me anywhere.”
When neither boy responded, she decided to dispense with the pleasantries. “Here.” She handed them each a clipboard, then swept a hand over the dress-up clothes on the table. “Pick an outfit and we’ll get this party started.”
The nine-year-old—whose name was Will, according to his information card—eagerly snatched up a satin top hat and a gentlemanly vest and put them on. But his older brother, Jason, was having none of that nonsense. He folded his arms and cocked his head to the side in the unmistakable gesture for Oh, hell naw.
“Or not,” she mumbled.
The first item on the scavenger hunt list was to learn the emergency exit that led outside to the lifeboats. Devyn showed the boys how to follow the signs to the main deck, and for the next couple of hours, she led them on an activity-based tour of the most useful parts of the boat: the main dining hall, the purser’s desk, the library, the theater, and the recreation room. When she caught Jason checking his watch, she took the brothers to the pilothouse to watch Marc drive the Belle. Eve
n Devyn was impressed by the gadgetry on display, but instead of admiring the control panels or asking to blow the steam whistle, the boys checked the time and told her they’d earned an hour on the Nintendo.
Devyn was forced to admit she’d lost the battle. With a heavy heart, she accompanied her students back to the education center, where they spent the rest of the afternoon playing an old video game they admittedly didn’t even like. The figurative cherry on her sundae of failure was when Beau dropped in to check on her, exactly as he’d promised.
She hugged a clipboard to her chest as he took the seat across from her at the table. “It’s not what you think,” she said, nodding toward the noises of BOING, BOING, BOING, BWOOP! “They earned that game.”
“Relax, hon.” Beau rested an arm on the back of a vacant chair beside him, easy like Sunday morning. And it would be easy for him. He’d spent half his childhood on this boat. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“Spare me. These kids are neck-deep in Mario World, and you think I’m not doing my job.”
He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “Not even close.”
“Oh, yeah?” She leaned toward him with a challenge in her voice. “What, then?”
An impish grin played on his lips. “Maybe I saw you a few hours ago when you walked through the lobby,” he said, reaching across the table to take her clipboard, his voice lowering to a whisper. “Maybe I noticed how freakin’ hot you were in that dress, and I couldn’t get you out of my head all day. Maybe I walked in here and imagined undoing all those laces . . . with my teeth.” He wagged his brows. “Maybe that’s what I was thinking.”
Devyn’s cheeks grew warm when she imagined him untying her corset laces, but in her fantasy, Beau used his strong, dexterous hands. The tips of his fingers would be rough when they brushed her skin, and her breasts would fit perfectly within his big palms—she remembered that detail quite well.
“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Devyn let her curls fall forward, hoping to conceal the blush he’d brought to her face. “Your mind’s always in the gutter.”
