Jinxed!

3

AFTER THE DRILL, THEY decided to grab something to eat since Erin’s massage appointment was in only a half hour. Fortifying themselves had been her suggestion because, based on what’d happened before their playus interuptus, she had the sneaking suspicion they would need to store up on energy for when she returned to the cabin.

She’d surprised herself with her attempt at seducing Wes. Heh, yeah, attempt. That was an understatement. She’d gone at him with all guns blazing, and he’d been just as open to the attack as she’d hoped. But then they’d been forced to do that drill and…bye-bye bedroom Babylon. Hello, fortune-teller curse.

Of course, it could’ve just been a coincidence that their intimate activities had been thwarted at a most awkward time. In the heat of the moment, after she’d disengaged from Wes, she’d forgotten herself and actually joked about a damned jinx being the reason for the interruption. She’d only been letting off steam, but she couldn’t help wondering if Madame Karma was on to something…

Nah. She and Wes had the whole cruise to get it on and, in effect, allow her to get on with life as she wanted it. The farther she inched away from the disappointment of William, the better. One setback was no biggie. Sure, Wes had been forced to carry his life jacket in front of his jeans en route to their drill-meeting station on the ninth deck, and Erin herself had been flushed with such lingering desire that the color was like a scarlet letter on her skin, but they had hours, days to make up for the temporary inconvenience.

They walked to the Lido restaurant after having dropped off their jackets in the cabin, Erin linking onto Wes’s muscle-corded arm.

A curse. Ri-ight. Nothing to fret about.

It was just the sense of supreme relief she’d felt when the purser had called them for the drill that was worrying her more…

Dismissing the thought, she climbed the stairs with her date, mahogany wood surrounding them. The ship, Lady Oriana, which would sail from Long Beach to Ensenada then back before Monday morning, was a study in Victorian romanticism. With its stained glass, brass railings and an atrium in the entry parlor, the vessel offered many amusements: the spa, a disco, a coffee nook, upscale shops, a casino and even a library. Of course, the upper deck had the requisite pool with water slides and a hot tub.

As they passed by the pool, which rested empty under the salt-tinged breeze, Erin’s body hadn’t lost any of its melted surrender yet. Just the feel of Wes’s biceps brushing against her breast as they walked side by side churned the hunger in her belly.

They entered the restaurant, which had a buffet set out. In spite of the many choices, all Erin saw were the French fries and shrimp cocktail. Breaking away, she made a beeline for them.

“I can’t believe,” she said while piling her plate high, “that the food is here for the taking. This is awesome.”

Wes had snagged a burger plus a hot dog plus a giant baked potato. Real man food.

“You sure you’re gonna fit all that in your tiny body?” He reached out, wrapping his fingers around one of her biceps, squeezing slightly.

She flexed for his benefit. “Check it out-I’m buff, huh? I could so kick your butt.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“I’m not kidding.” Even with plate in hand, she aimed a jesting kick at his leg but intentionally missed. “You got lucky that time, but I’ll bet I’m really intimidating to you now.”

He raised an eyebrow, then ambled toward a table, all loose-limbed stalk. But his grin gave away his amusement as they sat down.

“Guess I should watch myself around a karate master like you,” he said.

“Kickboxing classes do have their advantages. I’m telling you-meeting me in a dark alley? Not a good thing.”

He just laughed, watching her as he bit into his burger. She watched him right back, her gaze fixed on his mouth. Mmm.

When her perusal traveled back up to his gaze, his eyes had gone smoky, and she knew he was remembering what’d happened back in the cabin.

She stuffed a load of fries down her gullet. Food: the glutton’s answer to a cold shower.

He rested his forearms on the table, assessing her.

“What?” she said around her fries.

“You. Most girls are afraid to eat around a guy. You’re not. At all.”

She swallowed. “Why should I be? Food’s great.”

Maybe she was imagining things, but she thought she read some buried message in his dark eyes. You’re pretty great, too, they said.

Don’t think things like that, she mentally chided him. We’re not supposed to get all “you’re so great” about each other.

She cut off this line of awareness at the pass. “So…”

He went back to eating, obviously reading her loud and clear. “So, what?”

Then the small talk started up again and, phew, they were back to a place of comfort-joking and just enjoying being around each other.

She quizzed him about how he liked to stay in shape, too. He gave her the rundown on his favorite adrenalizing sports-surfing, hang gliding, motorbiking. Then they talked about the Lakers, neutral ground. He had season tickets and promised he’d invite her to the next home game.

“Only if you go to the theater sometime with me,” she said cheekily. “Trade-off.”

“I can do theater.”

She widened her eyes as he nonchalantly polished off the last of his hot dog. Noticing the inspection, he furrowed his forehead.

“Sorry.” Erin shook her head. “Most guys I know would kick and scream their way to a show.”

Guys like William, the ex. Since he hadn’t been much for compromise, she’d elected to do what she wanted to do with Cheryl and other friends-things like theater, chick-flick DVDs, shopping. William wouldn’t have been caught dead doing half of what she enjoyed, so it only made sense that they’d ended up kaput. The sad thing was that, at the beginning, they’d had so much in common…until they’d grown apart. Scary to think that could happen with any couple.

Unbidden, a surge of latent anger lit through her, but she extinguished it, having no use for the emotion. So what if he’d taken away most of her confidence and moved on without her? So what if he’d wasted so much of her time?

Wes polished off the rest of his food, then said, “I have a couple of sisters, so I guess that taught me a little art appreciation. It’s not all so bad-sometimes you see something pretty good on stage.”

“Like what?” Now she was leaning her forearms on the table, genuinely interested.

“I remember thinking Phantom of the Opera was decent. Kinda foofy, but that chandelier coming down from the ceiling was good. And…what was it called? That show with the leggy Swedish blond…”

“The Producers?”

“Yeah, I suppose that was okay.” He grinned. “I wish there was less singing and more naked women in those things though.”

“Perv.” She gave him a light push. “But…seriously? You enjoyed that ‘stuff’?”

“Enjoy is a strong word.” He noticed her astonishment. “What? Am I losing manhood points by the second?”

“No, not at all. I’d love to…hang out…with someone who can appreciate both the stage and the hoop.” And, one day, she’d settle down with a man like that. One day.

“Well, don’t think I have a chick gene or something, all right? There were just a lot of cultural things going on in Boston, and my parents wanted me and my sisters to be ‘well rounded,’ but…”

He glanced away, as if he’d revealed too much about himself.

“But…?” she repeated.

“Let’s just say I didn’t end up as well-rounded as they’d hoped. The folks didn’t exactly throw a party when I caught the travel bug, came out to California on a whim, then ended up bugging out of UCLA just a few credits short of graduation. Having a dropout in the family wasn’t in their plans.”

Besides the basics, they’d never really talked about family before. All she knew was that his mom was from Italian stock while his dad was a good old American mutt, like her own parents.

Why bother getting the scoop on more? Erin had thought. Light conversation was what had allowed her to say yes to him in the first place. She’d just hoped everyone really knew what they were talking about when it came to his reputation for not getting serious.

“But-” he added, his mood shifting as he leaned back in his seat casually, as if none of this even mattered “-even though they disapproved, it all ended up good. I didn’t feel like wasting my time on a business degree when I could be out there actually starting my own business.”

“Day trading?”

He nodded, seeming a bit uncomfortable at the acknowledgement of his success. Maybe he was one of those people who didn’t like to crow about how much money he earned. Made sense. Wes was more the type to show than to tell.

“And things took off from there,” she continued.

“I guess.” He pushed his plate away.

“Your buddy Caleb told me that you have a knack for pulling out of investments, then redistributing your profits at just the right time. You don’t need a diploma for that.”

He shrugged.

“What do your parents think about how well you’ve done?” she asked.

“They say they’re proud. I didn’t mean to make you think they weren’t. They just…I don’t know. They have their way of doing things and I have mine.”

She wanted to ask him so much more, but that’d be lethal. A transition man wasn’t supposed to offer a big connection; the more the two of them mined each other, the harder it’d be to move on to the next experience life had in store for her.

Not that she didn’t wonder what it might be like to dig deeper…

“How about you?” he was asking, watching her from his careless position as he reclined back against the chair. “You said your parents are from the East, too.”

“Milwaukee. Not so east.” She stirred Ketchup with a French fry. “They moved to Arroyo Grande before I was born. It’s near Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo.”

“Where you went to school with Cheryl.” He tapped his head.

“Good memory.” She smiled. “A few years ago, the Ps-my parents-retired and went back to the homeland with the rest of our extended family. They were getting some pressure to rejoin the fold, and guess who’s getting the same pressure right now?” She made a “tah-dah” motion.

“You’re leaving California?” he asked.

“Oh, no. It’s just that…” She hesitated. “Since I broke it off with William, they think I’m not mired here now. They think my life has become this blank slate that needs to be filled. What they don’t get is that this is my home. I have a business here, friends…”

Others.

She kept her gaze away from Wes, not wanting to see how he was responding. While they were so close to the subject of family, she thought about how they’d react to Wes. God. Her mom would weird out because Wes wasn’t the wonderful William, whom Erin had “tossed away without thinking everything through.” Her dad would be more tolerant, but he’d still be suspect about Wes’s charm. Heck, maybe dads were like that with all boyfriends, but since William hadn’t possessed much charm, she wasn’t sure. And as for Erin’s older and younger sisters? They’d tell her she was wasting her time on such an obvious lothario.

But none of them knew Wes. Not like she di-

Wait. Erin didn’t know this man at all, and she wasn’t ever really going to.

“And what about William?” he asked.

At the name, anger reared up again. She didn’t want the ex to enter into this weekend, into her idyll with a man who’d so often made her forget what she’d left behind.

“Aren’t exes a taboo subject on romantic cruises?” she asked, trying to inject some levity into the conversation again.

“Taboo then.”

A beat passed, the clank of silverware covering discussions from the other tables. The almost imperceptible roll of the boat brought Erin back to the moment. Cruise. An affair. An escape.

Her stomach turned because, now, she couldn’t shake William’s memory. It pressed down on her shoulders, and she shrugged, trying to jar him off.

“Erin, are you okay?”

“Not used to the motion of the ocean, I think.” Before he could say anything else, she added, “I should get going to my spa appointment.”

She stood, hoping to leave her ire behind. God, this was what her one and only big relationship in life had left her with? And that was just another reason she didn’t want to get involved with anyone right now. The negativity, the disappointment.

But she couldn’t leave Wes like this. It wasn’t fair. Not to either of them.

Summoning a smile-which was always so easy around this man-she leaned down, resting her lips against his ear. Wow, he smelled so good-rugged, like surf and clean air.

“I’ll see you back in the room in an hour?” she asked, pulse picking up speed.

He turned his face so that his mouth touched her jawline. Softly, he kissed her in answer, his hand skimming her hip as she moved away.

When she left, she didn’t look back.

Just like she planned to do when her time with Wes was over.