Page 29 of Honeymoon for Seven

“Hey. Where’s everyone going?” Nick asked.

“To put on my bathing suit,” Jake answered from his bedroom doorway, and all the others nodded.

Nick shook his head. “Not till you finish breakfast.”

With less spring in their step, the four marched back to their seats and poked at breakfast.

“You know,” his mom smiled at the children, “the faster you finish eating, the sooner you can hit the pool.”

Once again, enthusiasm reigned. Ginnie had never seen anyone demolish their breakfast as fast as these kids. “I should probably head back to my cabin and change.”

“Oh, yeah.” Nick chuckled. “Me too.” He pushed away from the table. “Meet you back here in…?”

“Ten minutes,” she finished, then hurried out the door and practically ran down the hall. She didn’t even like swimming, but right now she couldn’t think of anything more fun to do than swim in a crowded pool on a massive ship with Nick and five children. Her mother would be laughing herself silly if she could see Ginnie now.

Much to Nick’s surprise, instead of being overwhelmed by his sister’s absence and his mother’s injured leg, he was thrilled to have an excuse to spend more time with Ginnie. There was nothing about his plans for this vacation that included meeting women. Or a woman. This was a trip for Uncle Nick, and while he was at it, a little quality time with his mother. Instead, his mind was wandering to how much he was going to hate to have this cruise end.

Working their way to the pool, they’d run into another couple with a child Phoebe’s age on their way to the toddler care. The two toddlers had obviously made friends, so at the last minute he and Ginnie decided to leave Phoebe at the ship’s babysitting with her little friend.

Now, on deck, rummaging through a beach bag big enough to store the state of Rhode Island, Ginnie looked up at Nick. “Who has the sunscreen? I thought I tossed it in here.”

“I have it.” The oldest girl raised her hand, the fingers gripping the large tube of sunscreen. “Monica and I burn easily if we don’t use the good stuff.”

Rachel never ceased to surprise him. Sometimes she was such a kid, getting into mischief like any other child. Other times, it seemed she was nine going on forty.

“It will only wash off when we get in the pool.” Jake frowned at his new sister.

“Not the good stuff.” Rachel plopped one hand on her hip and used a patriarchal tone that reminded Nick so much of his sister, he had to fight not to laugh.

“Everyone should use sunscreen all the time.” Ginnie slathered the lotion onto Jeff’s back and one by one made sure each child had extra coverage behind their necks and ears and on the tops of their feet.

“I would never have thought to do that.”

Slathering lotion on her own feet, she glanced up at him. “You must never have come home with lobster feet.”

Again, he bit back a laugh. “Can’t say that I ever have.”

When Ginnie straightened and pulled her cover-up over her head and tossed it aside, he almost swallowed his tongue. A very modest one piece suit reminiscent of movies from the fifties that covered everything it possibly could, was nothing that should have had his pulse racing, but on her curves it was nonetheless.

“Could you please put this on my back?” She stood, arm stretched, holding the tube of sunscreen.

For the life of him, he couldn’t get his mouth to move. His tongue felt like it was stuck in a vat of peanut butter.

“Nick?”

“Sorry.” One word was all he could manage. Taking hold of the lotion, he sucked in a deep breath, rubbed it between his hands so it wouldn’t be too cold, and began gently spreading it across her back and shoulders. When his fingers slid under the strap of the swimsuit to ensure she didn’t burn if the straps moved, his heart rate stuttered. He was definitely a guy, and men reacted to beauty, they were just wired that way, but this feeling that he could simply stand here and apply lotion to her back for the next ten or twenty years was shockingly new.

“Are we going in the water now?” Monica stood at Nick’s side.

“Yes,” he managed to get out. “Yes, we are.” Closing the lid on the lotion, he handed it back to her.

“Want me to put some on your back?”

His head snapped from side to side a little more vehemently than it should have, but the last thing he needed right now was her fingertips on any part of him. “No, thanks. I, uh, don’t burn easily.”

“You sure?” Her brows crinkled into an unhappy V. “Skin cancer is no fun.”

He continued to shake his head. “You’re right, of course, but I’m fine.”

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