Page 2 of The Bosun

“If you’ll take off your shoes and follow me, I’ll show you around the boat, and you can pick your rooms,” the crazy gorgeous blonde stewardess, Ophelia, said with a fake smile plastered on her face.

“No shoes?” Reagan squeaked.

“To protect the boat, there are no shoes allowed.” Ophelia looked down at Reagan’s high-heeled feet.

Reagan’s nose scrunched up in disgust. “But I don’t want to see anyone’s nasty feet.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s the rule of the boat.” Ophelia gave a tight smile.

“What if someone has ape feet?” Reagan asked as she kicked off her heels.

“I’m not sure what ape feet are, but I can promise you the crew takes good care of their feet.”

“You should have requested they all have pedicures before we boarded,” Reagan whined to Zelda.

We all looked at each other with wide eyes. I wanted to believe she was kidding, but I knew she wasn’t.

Kicking off my flip-flops, I started to pick them up when Pen whispered in my ear, “Don’t look now, but I swear that hot crew guy is staring at your ass.” Of course, I looked because that’s what you do when someone tells you not to look.

His dark chocolate eyes were indeed settled straight on my ass. I wanted to shake it at him to see if I could get more of a reaction out of him but fought the urge. It was nice to feel desired, and it made my lips tip up as we followed the girls onto the boat.

I tried not to gawk as we toured the yacht, but damn, it was hard not to. It was beautiful and elegant, with every surface white and glass with gold as the accent color. We all eyed Zelda’s bedroom after seeing the size of the others. She had a large bathroom with a tub you could relax in.

Zelda spun on her heels. “Alright, girls. Let’s get our suits on and then reconvene on the bathing deck in twenty minutes.”

“I’ll have the crew bring your suitcases as quickly as possible. When would you like to have lunch?” Ophelia looked to Z.

“In an hour. You can serve us while we lay out,” Zelda said as she sat on her bed.

“We can do that. Do you want something simple then?” Ophelia’s tone said the answer to that should be a resounding yes.

“Something to keep us cool,” Zelda replied.

“Okay,” Ophelia drawled out. “I’ll tell the chef you’d like something to keep you cool while you sunbathe.”

Pen and I linked arms as we headed to our room.

“Maybe we should throw her overboard, and we can share her room,” Pen whispered conspiratorially in my ear.

“Then who’s going to pay?” I shot back, and hip-checked her.

“Good point. I don’t even want to know how much she’s paying. At least we’re sharing a room, and it’s a decent size. I can’t imagine sharing a room with Reagan or Scarlett.”

Me either. Reagan was too high maintenance for me, and Scarlett was too quiet. Maybe she’d break out of her shell the longer we were here and once she got to know us.

I looked around our room. There wasn’t much space with our two beds and our luggage that had already been delivered scattered all over the floor as Pen started going through hers, but I didn’t plan to spend much time in here. I wanted to enjoy the sun and the salty breeze as much as possible.

“Yeah, Reagan was already looking a little green, and there was no way in hell I was sharing a room with her if she’s going to be sick the whole time.”

“Maybe it’s because she saw someone’s ape feet,” I giggled. Opening up my suitcase, I started to look for one of the swimsuits I’d packed, but couldn’t find them. “Pen,” I called as I started to unpack everything to find my swimsuits.

“Yes?” She drew out the word in a giddy tone, letting me know she was up to something.

“What did you do?” Turning around to face her, I put my hands on my hips and tried to look stern. It was impossible when I saw the red dental floss she was holding up. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

“No.” She shook her head before she started to crack up. I could barely understand the words as they came out of her mouth because she was laughing so hard. “It’s what you’re wearing.”

“I had to have heard you wrong because there’s no way in hell I’m wearing that.” I turned back to my suitcase, desperate to find the suits I’d packed. “Now tell me what you’ve done to my suits.”

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