Page 2 of Love Overboard
Another crackle.
Where were they? Why couldn’t she lose them?
Lacey craned her neck to see past the rowdy cruisers and spotted a pint-size head with a mass of frizzy gray curls under Walter’s chubby arm as he stretched with a groan. Forget conducting herself with decorum. She bolted like a three-year-old at bath time and rushed down the hall. Taking a hard left, she slammed into something tall and unyielding.
“Whoa,” a man said as they collided.
Two large hands grasped her arms as her nose pressed into a broad chest covered in the white Monarch polo. It must belong to the fitness director. He was the only male crew member with such a well-defined torso.
“Sorry, Sven.” She ducked behind his muscular physique, hoping her pursuer would pass without discovering her. “The Shippers are after me.”
“What’s a Shipper?”
Lacey’s insides clenched at the voice. It definitely didn’t belong to Sven, but she knew that butter-smooth baritone. She just refused to believe what her ears were telling her. The man turned, and she looked up into the symmetrically perfect features of Jonathan King. It was a face she had worked hard to forget. Chocolate-brown hair, dark and twinkling eyes, one straight nose that had never seen a fight, and a pair of lips that were full enough to be kissable yet manly.
“Lace?” His eyes widened as he stared down at her. “Is that you?”
“Hello, Jon.” Lacey eased away, but he reached out and pulled her in for a bear hug.
“How long has it been? Two years?”
A riptide of old emotions swept through her as Jon crushed her body against his. Lacey’s heart pounded so hard she feared he might feel it. She concentrated on breathing.
In and out.
In and out.
In and in.
No, wait. That wasn’t right. How could her brain still be this affected by the man? She stood straight as a broomstick with her hands at her sides and waited for the hug to end.
“Two and a half,” she said in a muffled voice from inside his embrace. “But who’s counting?”
Hewas counting. It had been two years and seven months since Lacey Anderson walked out of his life. Correction—she bailed off the boat without so much as a goodbye. Jon held Lacey a few seconds longer than an ex-boyfriend should, enjoying the way she fit against him, her head tucked under his chin. Then he finally noted she wasn’t reciprocating and let her go.
She could have posed for a cruise commercial with her shapely figure and spotless uniform. Her honey-blond hair was twisted in a sophisticated knot at the nape of her neck. Was it still as long as he remembered—from when it was normal to give the silky strands a mischievous tug?
“How have you been?”
“Very well, thank you.” Her tone stayed in business-friendly mode. “What are you doing here? I thought you were working the Scandinavian route.”
“Been keeping tabs on me?” Jon bumped her with his elbow and grinned.
“No.” Lacey stepped away—out of bumping distance. “Someone happened to mention it once.”
Jon also withdrew a step and studied her like a stranger instead of the woman he still dreamed about from time to time. He’d known she worked on this ship when he took the assignment and had wondered how Lacey would feel when she saw him again. Gazing at the model of politeness in front of him, he still wondered.
“Meet the new cruise director.” He gave a slight bow. “The old one backed out at the last minute, and I got a promotion.” Technically that was true, if he counted his predecessor floating face down in the Atlantic without a pulse as “backing out.” “I was in the right place at the right time.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Lacey raised her left eyebrow so it pointed in the middle. “You were always good at whatever job you tried.”
Jon recognized the look. He’d been the recipient of that snarky eyebrow on more than one occasion. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“On the contrary, the MSBuckinghamwill benefit greatly from your varied talents. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to swing by the dining room on the way to my muster station.”
She fake-smiled and scooted around him without making physical contact. His old flame was sending signals loud and clear, none of them good, and for the life of him, he didn’t know why. Shouldn’t he be the one with a grudge?
Two years and seven months ago, they’d finished a long sailing stretch and taken the mandatory vacation period the cruise line required of all the employees. Whenever he’d tried to have a “defining the relationship” conversation in the past, she’d always put him off. But he’d sensed her softening in her unguarded comments abouttheirfuture. He and Lacey had made a dinner date for after she returned from visiting her family. Jon had practiced his speech a dozen times, trying to find the most sincere, nonthreatening, romantic way to say “I love you.” But all his preparation had been in vain. She never showed, changed her phone number, and requested a transfer to a different ship. His pulverized heart required months of soul-searching and midnight prayers to recover.
