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The room erupts in roaring laughter. Beckett covers his face and hangs his head. Several minutes go by while he tries to gethimself together. Finally, clearing his throat, he says, "Thanks for a brilliant name and a great laugh. The guests who just wet their pants will thank you later."
When the room settles down, Beckett reaches for a sheet of paper lying on the piano and holds it up. "All right, listen up. Andre is passing out answer sheets and pencils. If you didn't grab any earlier, raise your hand, and he'll take care of you. Now, this is how the game will work. I'll give you a question, and you'll write your team's final answer on the sheet. There will be a space for you to log your score when I reveal the top answers. At the end of the game, the team with the highest total score wins."
There are nods and mumbles around the room. Andre hands an answer sheet and pencil to the captain for team eight and continues going around the room.
Dane sets a rum and Coke on the bar next to the four glasses of chardonnay he'd just poured for Mitre. He turns and looks toward Brittany, catching her watching him. He grins at her, and she gives him another stunning smile.
Damn, he wants to touch her—feel her warm, soft body underneath him as he fills her with his cock. She drives him mad with desire, more so than he has ever felt before. He's like a moth drawn to her flame, completely entranced, with an aching need to be near her. And he can't seem to get her out of his mind. The mere sight of her arouses him, just like she's doing to him now.
Dane tries to expel the vision swirling in his head of Brittany lying naked in her bed, an image so tantalizing he can feel the fabric of his pants tighten, and he's thankful once again for the apron covering his hard-on. Trying to force the luscious thoughts from his mind, he watches Mitre take the drinks from his tray and place them on the coffee table in front of Brittany. The four ladies take the wine, and the gentleman takes the rum and Coke. Brittany isn't drinking. He waits for her to look at himagain. Then he holds up two glasses, one for a hurricane, the other for an Irish coffee.
Brittany stares at the glasses as if she's trying to decide.
"Dane," Beckett says into the microphone, making him jump. "I see you're doing sign language with bar glasses. What does it mean, and who is the lucky recipient?"
The room goes quiet.
Dane swivels toward Beckett, noticing Jerry's ever-present scowl.
Jerry's eyes dart back and forth between Dane and Brittany, and he looks like he's about to say something.
Dammit, this isn't good.That ass is going to make a scene, and then our secret will be out.
"He's signaling me," Iris belts out, her voice shattering the silence. "He's asking me if I want a hurricane cocktail or an Irish coffee."
"We certainly have some talented bartenders on this ship. So which one is it? Cocktail or coffee?" Beckett asks.
Iris smiles. "Cocktail. I need to get ready to play this game."
Dane sighs with relief, shooting a thankful look at her.
She nods at him and grins.
Dane mixes a hurricane cocktail, and Mitre delivers it to Iris. She casually slides it down the table to Brittany.
"All right. Let's get started, then." Beckett scans the room. "Here we go with the first question. Other than feet, name something that runs. I'll give you a couple of minutes to come up with an answer and write it on your sheet."
Heads bend down, followed by whispering and sporadic laughter.
"Time's up," Beckett shouts. "I'll call on each team, and the captains can give us their answers. Team number one, your answer, please?"
"Toilet," the woman in the red blouse says.
Beckett continues going around the room. Finished, he moves to an easel holding a large drawing tablet and flips the blank cover page to reveal the top answers and their scores. He gives everyone a few minutes to log the result on their score sheet.
"All right. Let's move on to question number two. Name something people might only do once a week. I'll give you a few minutes to formulate your answers."
Dane sets four glasses of merlot, two daiquiris, and a piña colada on the bar. Andre places them on a tray and takes them away. Scanning the room, Dane notices Brittany deep in discussion with her team. She vigorously shakes her head at Larry, or whatever his name is, and writes an answer on her sheet. Dane looks away when Beckett calls time.
Beckett points at the woman in the red blouse. "Your team's answer, please."
"Grocery shopping," she says, smiling.
"Good answer. Team two?" Beckett points at the woman drinking a piña colada.
"Our answer is exercise."
"Another good answer." Beckett points to the captain of team three.
