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“Hello, darlings!” Aunty Joan’s voice cuts into Delaney’s tirade before she can finish, and I take the opportunity to snatch her hand back in mine and pull her nice and close. She might be unwilling to change the terms of our relationship where her family is concerned, but Liam likes to shower his girl with affection—something we established at Thanksgiving, as Delaney so helpfully pointed out. And if this game of pretend is all she’s willing to give me, then so be it. I’ll dote on her like she’s never known.
“Aunty Joan,” I say, holding out my free arm and embracing the old woman while Delaney gets her game face on. “How has your gorgeous self been these past few weeks?”
“Trawling for toy boys on Tinder,” she says with a completely straight face. “But all they want to do is send me pictures of their penises—dickpics I believe they’re called—and I didn’t even ask for them. What I’m interested in is the amount of muscles they have because my old lady hooch has had quite enough plundering for one life. I want to look and admire. I don’t want to actuallydoanything. Maybe what I should do is go trawling for men at the local gym? Find some pumped up fella who’s obviously been on that roid stuff that shrinks your bit. Can’t imagine they’d want to show me photos of their junk before we even talk, am I right?” She elbows me in the side and cackles at her own story. “Yes. I think that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
“Aunty Joan,” Delaney says with a smile as she wiggles her hand from my grip and embraces her aunt. “What on earth made you think Tinder would be a good place to hang out?”
“Oh, I overheard the maids talking about it, so I got John to download it and set up an account for me. It was just for a bit of fun. I’m not getting any younger, you know. Got to have all the fun I can before it’s too late.”
“Is there something you aren’t telling us?” Delaney asks when she holds her aunt at arm’s length and scrutinizes her. “This cruise. Now Tinder. You’re actually starting to worry me here.”
“Oh, child. I’ve just realized that time is getting away from me and I don’t feel like I’ve had enough fun. I’m old and I’m eccentric, so now is the best time toactlike it. Live your best life is what the young kids say, right?” She looks to me for confirmation, and I nod.
“As long as that’s all it is.”
“I promise you,” Joan says, placing a comforting hand on Delaney’s arm. “Now, your father and mother are just off checking in all of our luggage so we can move through to the boarding area. You two should probably go and do that yourselves and meet me back here.”
“I’ll go,” I volunteer, leaning down to pick up both mine and Delaney’s bags from where they sit on the ground. “You two stick together. It’s easy to find Delaney in a crowd.”
“Because I’m so big?” she snaps, her eyes flashing and exciting me at the same time.
“No, gorgeous. Because of your red hair,” I say, giving it a gentle pull before I lean in and kiss her on the cheek, giving her a final wink before I step away. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Take your time, my love,” she shoots back, giving me a smile that doesn’t touch her eyes.Something tells me this cruise is going to be a lot more fun than I thought it would be.
DELANEY
We’re welcomed onto the ship with a string quartet playing Christmas music and servers offering glasses of champagne, whiskey or eggnog. The festive season is all around us, and Nate laughs at me because I keep craning my neck looking at all the decorations and displays. He has to keep steering me through the crowd, so I don’t bump into anybody. But I can't help it, Christmas is my favorite time of year.
I did wonder if being on a tropical cruise would make it feel less like the holiday, but after seeing the splendor around us, I have to think this could very well turn out to be the best Christmas I’ve ever had. All of my family is in one spot, and the man I'm crushing hard-core on is by my side.
Now all I need is a miracle. And Christmas is the perfect time for them, right? If somehow Saint Nick himself wants to smile down on me and give me a clue as to how I win Nate's heart, then I will be forever grateful. Because despite the ‘keep it business’ line on the dock, my attraction levels are at least ten times higher than they were at Thanksgiving. I don’t know how it happened, but I swear that man got better looking. Ineedhim in my life. I just need to work out how to go about it. Our circumstances aren’t normal. If I could wish for one thing this Christmas, I’d like to get my man and escape my family unjudged—which is why I need the miracle.
By the time we get into our room, it’s almost time for dinner. My face hurts from smiling so much and my stomach aches from wanting so much. Having Nate glued to my side being so attentive has been intoxicating. But I’ve noticed there’s this wall up around him now that wasn’t there before. I gives me a deep-seated longing for the ability to turn back time and redo Thanksgiving with different intentions, but the line has been cast now, and I guess I have to work with the fish I caught.Ugh.That’s a horrible analogy, but I think we all get the gist—I’ve got regret over the last time we were together. I’ve got longing from the time in between. And now I don’t know where to start since Nate, despite his acting abilities and attentiveness, still seems pissed at me. The words, ‘let’s just keep things professional this time’keep ringing in my ears and casting doubt over my hopefulness.
What if I don’t want to keep things professional?
What if I want things to get dirty like they did last time? I could say the right name this time and everything…
Feeling the familiar tightening in my belly that occurs every time I think about him touching me like that, I close my eyes for a second and sit on the edge of the bed to take my shoes off. We have to get ready for dinner soon, and I’m not really ready to face my family again just yet. I love them all, but an afternoon spent touring the ship and talking non-stop has me exhausted. I’d like to curl up on this bed and just sleep until I don’t feel tired anymore.Wait. Do I hear…snoring?
Opening my eyes, I find Nate stretched out on the couch, napping like he doesn’t have a care in the world. His long, muscular frame too big for the space he’s using, but somehow, he seems completely comfortable and at ease.How is it that I miss him even though he was never mine?
Letting out a sigh, I put my feet on the plush carpet and wriggle my toes. Aunty Joan got us a suite with a balcony, a full-sized bathroom, and walk-in closet. With the lush furnishings and the perfect view, I’m feeling rather spoiled, indeed.
Forcing myself back into my sore feet, I make my way into the walk-in and find our suitcases in there, sitting on the plush sea-blue bench seat that adorns the center. As I unzip mine, my eyes stray to Nate’s. I don’t know why, but I have this itch to see what he has in there. Is it all board shorts and Hawaiian shirts? Or did he pack for every possibility?
The thought rattles around in my mind as I fill the racks and drawers with my possessions and slide the empty suitcase into the provided slot beneath the shoe rack on my side. So by the time I’ve finished, I’ve convinced myself that unpacking for him as well is just a kind thing to do.
“It’s notsnooping,” I say to myself as I pull open the zip on his duffel. “It’s helping.”
One by one, I remove the clothing from his bag, hanging up his dress shirts and pants—points for thinking about dinner attire—and placing his casual wear and boxers in the drawers. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hold his soft white T-shirt to my nose and inhale his scent, letting it flow through my body along with the memory of what he tasted and felt like when I took him into my mouth.My clit aches just thinking about it.
Pulling out his shoes, I pause when I find the folder I gave him during our first meeting on the bottom. When I take it out and flip through it, he’s printed out and added the suggestions and anecdotes I emailed through, along with some handwritten notes of his own:takes two sugars in her coffee. Doesn’t seem to like green beans or pumpkin pie even though she’s the one who brought it. Talks in her sleep. Favorite color?My heart swells as I read his words, freezing when I find a comment further down the page,doesn’t think she’s lovable.
Instantly tears prickle my eyes at the confronting words, and I put the folder back inside, not wanting to risk reading anymore. There’s a saying about opinions—everyone has one, and what’s theirs doesn’t belong to you. I don’t need or want to know what he secretly thinks of me. If it turns out he agrees with that statement, well, I don’t think I could even try to pretend with him then.
Just as I tuck the folder away in the duffel, a hard plastic tube rolls sideways and taps me on the hand. For a brief moment, I wonder why Nate would bring a flashlight on a cruise.Is he afraid of the dark?But then I pick it up and notice it has a cap. My breath catches. I know what it is before I remove the lid, but still, I take the damn thing off and find myself face to er….vulva of a fleshlight.
