Page 17 of Love Overboard
They moved to the sultry music without speaking. The woman’s light motions belied her size as she nimbly followed him in the dance. His former partner stuck her tongue out at Althea’s back before slouching away.
“You do realize you saved eight of my toes,” Jon said when they were out of earshot.
“Sorry I was too late to save the other two.” The hand resting on his shoulder patted him. “Consider it repaying the favor for the taxis yesterday. Years ago, I was in a city bus accident, and walking long distances is difficult.”
“Glad to be of service.” He observed the other people on the stage. Daisy danced an elegant pattern off to their right, partnered by one of the waiters, but the other two Shippers were nowhere to be seen. “Don’t Emily and Gerry enjoy ballroom?”
“I imagine they do, but they’re making arrangements for a quick trip later this morning. We don’t often stay two days in Cozumel, and they wanted to do some adventuring.”
“I hear the higher-ups made an exception because it’s carnival season. They figured the passengers might relish the festivities. Where are Emily and Gerry headed?”
“A park on the other side of the island. Pointa Verdad?”
“Punta Verdad?” Jon’s brow furrowed. “That’s a fair distance from the ship. The tour takes six to eight hours on a dune buggy.”
Althea flinched. “Glad I’m not going, then.”
“It’s a demanding ride. Are you sure they’re planning to—”
The tango music swelled around them and built to a frantic crescendo.
She thrust her hand into the air. “Dip me, darling,” she cried.
Althea jerked herself back before he could respond. Jon wrapped both arms around her waist and held on for dear life. She reclined her head and shouted. “Olé!”
“Ooooooooo-lé,” Jon ground out from between his clenched teeth. He tried to hoist her, but she leaned horizontal again, and he spread his legs farther to support the weight. “Mrs. Jones, can we please stop dipping? Althea?”
“Not yet. Daisy, take a picture.” She waved at her friend, who glided to the couple and pulled a disposable camera from the pocket of her wide-legged black trousers. “Say cheese, handsome.”
With effort, Jon lifted the corners of his lips. Were his arms shaking? It wouldn’t look good if the cruise director dropped a senior passenger on the floor. His eyes swept the crowded stage for any source of relief.
“I’m missing the fun,” said a familiar voice. “Can anyone participate?”
Jon craned his neck and beheld Lacey. The blinding stage lights behind her head hid her expression. To him, the glow resembled a halo, and she was his angel of mercy.
“Yes.” He gasped. “Please.”
Lacey propped a supportive hand behind Althea. “May I cut in, Mrs. Jones?”
“Why, yes, of course, baby.” Althea popped up like a piece of toast and slipped out of his arms.
Jon resisted the urge to grab his spine. Lacey was way smaller, but could his vertebrae handle another round of dipping? She smirked at him as if she read his thoughts. Placing her right hand in his left, she rested the other one on his biceps. It tightened under her touch. Her body moved forward until it was perfectly aligned with his own.
Lacey’s mouth twitched. “Dip me, darling.”
She repeated Althea’s words, but they sounded different coming from Lacey’s soft pink lips.
He twisted her to the side, and she bent over his arm. Her right leg stayed steady underneath to help brace her weight as her left leg stretched out in front at a graceful angle. Jon regarded her upturned face. Heaven help him, she was beautiful.
This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea.
The words repeated on a loop in Lacey’s head. She’d tried hard to keep her distance from Jon the past few days. But when she’d seen him struggling with Althea, the veins popping out on his neck, she’d weakened. He had plenty of muscles, but Mrs. Jones indulged in second and third trips to the dessert bar.
Now Lacey didn’t have to rely on faulty memory for what it felt like to be in his arms. Her whole body downloaded the feeling and saved it to her brain so she’d never forget the sensation. Or the look in his eyes. She recognized that expression but preferred not to put a name to it.
The sound of applause saved her from studying it further.
“Magnifique,” the dance instructor exclaimed. He ran to them as they stood upright. “I know who to call if one of our dancers ever falls under the weather, no?”
