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"You seem pretty sure about that, you don't even know where I'm from or what I do or my favorite movie—which is anything staring The Admiral because that ass. Oh my. I'd like to slap that and then give it a little bite." She made a little lion roar and used one hand to claw the air as her focus moved up his body until she got to his face. "I do know you." Raising herself up on her tiptoes, she planted one hand on his chest and leaned in close enough he might get drunk off her fumes. "Were you the guy in that video who did naked trampoline Zumba?"
Okay, that he had not been expecting. He shook his head as he scanned the crowd, looking for something—anything—to distract his inebriated inquisitor. The woman's friend was flirting with both of the bulked up dudes. The people behind them were taking selfie after selfie. He turned and that's when he saw Aubrey walking in through the out door.
"Too bad." The woman let out a disappointed sigh. "That would have been something to recreate. Maybe we can anyway. And then—wait a minute." Her glassy eyes widened with recognition. "I know where I know you from, you're The A—"
"Aubrey!" He yelled, panic making his voice louder than he meant.
"The Aubrey?" The drunk girl hiccuped. "No. that doesn't sound right."
"My friend. Aubrey." He waved the pants thief next door over and when she got close enough, he grabbed her by the hand and yanked her over to his side, sending every silent message of "help me" he could with only his eyes and the squeeze of his hand. "We know each other."
Aubrey fell right into the game, pasting a huge smile on her face and nodding. "He went to college with my big brother. They both were in the same tabletop board game club." She gave the other woman an oh-my-God-right look when the other woman's expression turned skeptical. "Crazy right? We see each other for the first time since that epic two-week long game of Monopoly on a singles cruise."
"Monopoly?" The woman looked from Carter to Aubrey and back again as if she'd never heard of it before. "The kids' game?"
"It's fun for all ages," Aubrey deadpanned.
"That can't be right," the woman said with the kind of stubborn confidence that only the mostly drunk had. "This guy he's got superhero arms. He wouldn't do that."
"There are all sorts of people who are in the tabletop board game world," Aubrey said, taking another step closer to Carter. "You wouldn't believe who’s into it. Totally underground, fight club type of thing. No one can talk about it, but you seem cool so I'll tell you." Aubrey looked around as if she didn't want anyone to overhear. "Ryan Reynolds. Crazy for it."
"Really," the woman gasped.
"Totally." Aubrey nodded and lowered her voice. "But you didn't hear it from me."
The other woman mimed turning a key in a lock on her lips. Well, that was what she tried to do. What it actually ended up looking like was a woman about to jab herself in the eye with her thumb.
"If I could have your attention," said the cruise ship attendant at the front of their clump of people pulling everyone's attention her way. "The following information will only take a few minutes to hear but could save your good time."
A few people chuckled. Aubrey didn't. She looked a little green.
"Thanks for saving me," he said, realizing that he was still holding her hand.
He let go, his fingers tingling, and the idea—the solution to his undercover problem—hit him like all the best ones do, fully formed and just in the nick of time. "So you know how you owe me for the pants?"
She nodded, her gaze skittering away from him.
"I know just how you can pay me back."
Her eyes rounded.
Fuck. He was an asshole.
"No. Not that." Yeah, he was not trying to have sex with her, especially not to pressure her into it. Damn. It was a good thing he made his living speaking the words other people wrote for him. What he wouldn't do for a quick rewrite and a second take. "I put that the wrong way. I'll explain everything after we get out of here. Okay?"
Thank God getting out of here involved a drink with a teeny-tiny umbrella in it because Aubrey needed some aged in a barrel courage to make it through a face to face with Carter "The Admiral" Hayes without letting on that she knew who he was and that she had ratted him out to the world when he was obviously trying to stay on the down low. It really was a two rum punch with extra cherries guilty kind of moment. When would she learn to think first, act second, and to stop sabotaging herself?
You've only had your whole damn life to figure out that one.
They sat down in a pair of deck lounge chairs on the otherwise empty deck at the front of the ship (The bow? The hull? The lido deck? Like she had any idea). His feet were planted on the deck and he was turned so he faced her, his elbows propped up on his muscular thighs. Whew. It was hard enough not to drool when she was watching him up on the big screen. From less than a foot away there was no denying that the man needed his own forearm porn calendar. And an ass calendar. And a sexy dimples calendar. And—
Focus, Dean!
"So here's the deal." He took a long pull from his beer as if he was gearing up to say something earth shattering. "My name's Carter but my last name isn't Van Steeple, it's Hayes."
In an effort not to flinch at what was coming next, probably something along the lines of "and you ruined my vacation by opening your damn mouth," she took another fortifying drink. That kept her from talking too, she just looked at him over the top of the hot pink drink umbrella with yellow flowers on it as she sucked down half her drink to keep from having to talk.
He cleared his throat, looked around, and then leaned in close. "Carter Hayes." He waited a beat as if expecting her to scream or freak out (too late). "The Admiral." Another pause. "Do you watch movies?"
