Page 4 of Wish Lists and Road Trips

“Uh,yeah.”

His thick, black lashes blinked at me and he licked his lips. “They don’t leave and come back,” he said slowly. “It’s a hundred-and-fifty-thousand-ton ship, not an Uber.”

Heat crept up my neck, but I wasn’t sure if it was indignation at his tone or the understanding that was starting to stir in the back of my head. “Well, this one must have,” I said with my practicedeverything is finevoice. “Because this is where I left it, and where they said to be back.”

“And are you the only one on this cruise?”

“No.” I followed his eyes around the dock and my heart dropped like a hundred-and fifty-thousand-ton rock. Then my breath started to come out all wiggly and uneven.Oh God.

“Seems there would be more people here if it leaves in forty-five minutes.”

Okay, he had a very valid point, but I’d heard them say three-fifteen. I’d had an entire crisis over it.

“What cruise line?” he asked when I’d gone mute.

Now my forehead was starting to sweat. I swallowed a lump. “Festiva.”

He shook his head. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“They said three-fifteen.” My heart thudded against my chest, but my voice sounded oddly calm even to my own ear.Handle it, Bridget. Take a deep breath and handle it. Donotlet everyone be right about this.

“They said three-fifteen New York time,” he was saying. “That’s one-fifteen Costa Rica time. They said that. They even said it in military time. They said it three different ways.”

I met his eyes, cursing under my breath. I’d been so distracted by that number that I must have missed the finer details. Suddenly the sound of the ocean lapping the side of the empty pier was amplified, ringing in my ears, screaming:There’s no ship here! Look at this big empty hole! Gone!

Shoot. This is sooo bad.As my mother had just reminded me, I had a reputation for making a mess of things and this was a really big one. Which was exactly what they expected when I told them I was taking my honeymoon cruise alone.

“You’re just not made for it, Bridget,” my father said. “You can’t go gallivanting around the world because you feel . . . stifled.” He’d whispered that last part as if it was some shameful thing that would bring embarrassment upon our house if anyone had heard.

My bearer of bad news stared at me, obviously thinking the same. “Are you traveling alone?” he asked.

“Yes.”Double shoot.Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that. My eyes caught on his again. It was distracting, that color. I was trying to work this out and I kept seeing flashes of alien green out of the corner of my eye.

“How can you be traveling alone?”

I scrunched my nose. “You’re traveling alone.”

“Yeah, but I’m a guy.”

“Oh, I see. I didn’t realize your dick came with a compass.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose the way my father did when the Red Sox were getting creamed. “You don’t need a compass. You need a watch.” He stood abruptly, yanking out the hat he’d stuffed in his pocket and popping it onto his head. “Come with me.”

I most certainly would not. “You missed the boat too,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. The gesture felt childish and I imagined my mother’s rolling eyes. I dropped them back down to my sides. “Why would I go with you?”

He took a deep breath through his nose, his eyes slipping closed for two beats. When he opened them again, they’d softened. “I’m Nick,” he said, holding out his hand.

I blinked at him. This guy was all over the place. He’d just looked like he was going to toss his lunch over the railing, and now he was apparently going to save my day. I didn’t need a White Knight.

“Bridget,” I said, reluctant even to share as much. I shook his hand, trying not to have a physical reaction to how big it was. “I’ll just go talk to the ship agent. That’s what you did, right? They helped you?”

“I’ll go with you.”

I narrowed my eyes, trying to look fierce and capable. “Why?”

“I’m old-fashioned like that.” He smiled, full lips pulling back to reveal bright white teeth, like a perfect picket fence except for the left incisor which turned ever-so-slightly inward. I stared at it for a moment before nodding my acceptance. It was ridiculous, but something about that tooth said trustworthy. If they’d all been perfect, I would have marched away.

“Ah, Mr. Callaway. You’re back.” The ship agent, Marco, pasted on a smile when I stepped up to the counter. I knew he was swimming in a shitstorm because of my missing the boat and was trying his hardest to maintain the hospitable expression his job required. Though, his smile grew infinitely warmer when he saw Bridget.

---