Love Overboard

Chapter 10

LACEY CAREENED DOWN THE STAIRS. She descended round and round the narrow lighthouse. Her speed increased until she reached the bottom and slammed to a stop. Right into Jon’s back. He stood in the open doorway and lurched forward as she crashed into him.

“Sorry.” She ducked under his arm and ran to the beach. Her feet sank in the powder-soft sand, slowing her gait. Lacey pushed harder, not that it did any good. The lazy teal waves rolled in front of her without a single boat to mar their postcard perfection. She doubled over, bracing her hands against her knees, and gasped for air.

Jon caught up at the water’s edge. “What’s wrong?”

Chest heaving, Lacey waved at the spot where Fernando’s boat used to be.

Jon groaned. He scanned the water and pointed to a speck on the horizon. “There.”

Lacey straightened, and her neck swiveled to Emily and Gerry at the table. She marched across the beach, Jon at her heels.

“Where’s Fernando?” Lacey stopped in front of them and twirled around as if she expected him to appear.

“He had an emergency.” Emily held a plastic bag. “Don’t worry. He said he’d be back in a bit. And he left the sandwiches for us, so we won’t starve.”

“A bit?” Lacey swung her head from side to side. “What does that even mean? It took us an hour to get here. If he’s going home, that’s two hours round trip. Did you even bring your medicine with you?”

“Relax, dear.” Emily unzipped her purse and riffled through it. “I took a dose before we left. And there are lots of things to see here in the meantime. Fernando said that path over there leads to a crop of ancient Mayan ruins.” She withdrew a pair of aviator sunglasses from a leather pouch, put them on, and motioned to a trail at the far end of the beach. “You and Jon go explore them while we wait.”

“I’m supposed to return to the ship in time for the first dinner seating.” Lacey’s hands rose to her waist, palms up as if asking for a benediction from above and waiting for the right answer to drop into them.

“This won’t do.” Jon moved around Lacey and crouched in front of Emily. “You must have his phone number. Call him. Even if he’s already left, it won’t add too much time to his trip to come and get us now.”

“Out of the question.” Emily stared him down, his face reflected in her mirrored lenses. “It was urgent.”

“Don’t worry.” Gerry pulled a novel from her woven purse. “He’ll be back soon. I brought an extra book if someone wants to borrow it.”

Gerry passed the novel to Lacey, who cringed at the amorous couple embracing on its cover. She tossed the book on the table.

Emily shook her head as she retrieved the novel. “Young people are always in such a hurry.” She hummed as she opened the story to the first chapter.

Jon was no help. He said nothing.

Lacey’s mouth formed words, but no sound came out. This must be illegal. They were being held hostage by two granny gangsters. She clenched her fists, gave a tiny squeal, and stomped away.

Jon eyed the placid little ladies as they read, then suppressed a chuckle. The whole crazy situation would be funny if Lacey weren’t so peeved. In the distance, she stormed along the beach, kicking sand right and left. A perfectly understandable reaction.

The setup was too blatant. An obvious bid to force them into close proximity. This remote south side of the island took hours to reach by dune buggy. Calling a Monarch employee to come and get them was an option. But by the time they reached the ship, it would be the same difference as waiting for Fernando. Plus, the journey might be hard on the senior citizens, and he wouldn’t abandon them to wait for the motorboat alone.

They were stuck.

Fifteen minutes ago, he’d have welcomed the chance to spend quality time with Lacey—before she played the just-friends card, consigning every tender memory they’d ever shared to the garbage pile. He wasn’t feeling friendly right now.

Had the good old days only been good for him? Granted, they never officially defined their relationship back when they were together. But they were together. Any spare moment was spent in each other’s company.

Jon wandered around, digging in the dirt and collecting seashells, but somehow his feet kept pointing Lacey’s direction. He gave up and walked toward the beach. She sat in stony silence next to the water’s edge, staring at the last place they’d seen Fernando’s boat. She spoke as soon as he stopped beside her.

“I can’t believe they went this far.” She hunched, hiding her face in her hands.

“Who?” He sat on her right, careful to leave a few inches of empty space between them.

“The Shippers.” She pounded a fist into the sand. “This has their fingerprints all over it.”

He knew she was right but didn’t want to admit it out loud. He was enjoying the rare sight of her normally battened-down self so out of control.

“The man had an emergency, Lacey.” Jon shifted to find a comfortable position. “Let it go.”

“So why didn’t he load everybody on the boat before he left?”

“I concede your point. That would have made more sense.”

She snatched a pebble and chucked it at the waves. “They wanted to give us plenty of time alone to reminisce.”

“About our friendship, you mean?” Jon grabbed a jagged rock and hurled it in the same direction.

“About whatever.” Lacey leaned on her arm, away from him.

“Let’s reminisce, then. Do you remember the first words you ever said to me?”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Were they ‘nice to meet you’?”

“No. You skipped the formalities.” Jon’s mouth twitched as he studied his fingers. “You said, ‘Are you going to pick up that trash?’”

“Trash?”

If Jon had asked her where she first saw him, she could’ve named the exact location. Lacey was a maid then. She remembered standing in the housekeeping line as the chief steward belabored their duties. The bellboys stood opposite, and long-legged Jon with the quarterback shoulders and toothpaste-commercial smile had caught the eye of more than one lady. But there was no trash involved.

“It must have been commonplace to you.” He laughed. “You always had a bossy streak with everyone.”

“I’m not bossy.” Lacey dug her toes in the sand. “I’m assertive.”

“That you are.” Jon stretched out his legs and leaned back on his elbows. “You’re assertive a lot.” She opened her mouth to defend herself, but he interrupted. “I admire that about you.”

She closed her lips and slowly reclined on the sand—keeping a Bible’s length between them, the safe distance all the youth pastors in her adolescence had prescribed. And she definitely needed safety at the moment. “Were you littering?”

“No. I was walking down a stateroom corridor and passed a crumpled coffee cup on the floor. You didn’t like that I left it there.”

“I still don’t.” She squinted his way. “Why didn’t you pick it up?”

“Can’t remember. Maybe I didn’t notice it. Maybe because it wasn’t mine.”

“If you work on a ship, then it belongs to you. Every part. Even the trash.”

Jon rolled on his side to look at her. “I agree. Now. But I was still learning the ropes then. Many of which I learned from you.”

It was hard to keep her distance from such an insightful, gorgeous man.

But she would persevere. Stay safe.

Charming people let you down.

The reminder sounded hollow, even in her head. Lacey wiggled a little to the left, widening the space between them by another Bible’s length. She lounged on the toasty sand and propped her hands behind her head.

“No charge for the lessons.” She lowered her lids.

The Mexican sunlight warmed her skin, and a salty-sea aroma tickled her nostrils.

Lacey felt rather than saw Jon relax beside her. They were on an open beach with two nosy chaperones a few yards away, but the intimacy rocked her insides. The Shippers were good. She’d give them that. Throwing her together with this sweet, sincere, and good-looking-enough-to-make-your-earlobes-tingle guy was a savvy plan. She moved her hands in front of her, folded them on her torso, and stayed still as a mummy. The ancient Egyptians embalmed people after removing the heart and other organs from the body to preserve a beautiful, empty corpse.

A morbid thought for a sunny day at the beach.

And completely irrelevant.

Her heart was alive and well and pulsing away like a noisy, unwelcome alarm clock.

The cool breeze swirled, and a spicy scent wafted from the chili peppers hanging from the store’s doorjamb. Emily and Gerry stared out at the beach, watching Jon and Lacey from behind their open books. The couple scooted back and forth on the sand like a pair of lobsters doing a mating dance.

Emily slammed her novel on the table. “What do you suppose they’re saying?”

“Probably not much with words.” Gerry scribbled in her notebook. “But their body language is fascinating.”

“Are you plotting another book?” Emily propped her elbow on the table and rested her cheek against her palm. “You should finish the first one before you start something new.”

Gerry ignored her. The pen tip flew across the page. She scratched her nose, and a speck of ink smeared on her upper lip.

“Go ahead.” Emily flopped back on her chair and crossed her arms. “Keep writing. At least some kind of romance—albeit imaginary—will result from this failure.” The fingers of her right hand drummed against the tabletop. “What are we missing? Lacey likes him. I’m sure of it. Why is she fighting this so hard? I worry Jon will take no for an answer and stop trying.” She raised her gaze to the blue sky. “Lord, I’m stumped. I believe you brought Jon here for Lacey, and I’d like to help. But I don’t know how.”

Her eyes narrowed as she studied the uncooperative couple on the beach. This called for an Alpha strike. She pulled out her phone and typed a list of things she wanted to tell the other two Shippers. The next operation required all hands on deck.

The sun dipped low in the sky as Fernando’s boat approached the shore. The water shimmered a pearly white in the early evening glow. He killed the motor, leaped over the side, and waded through the gentle waves toward the four waiting passengers.

Jon headed for the plastic table and squatted in front of Gerry. “Are you ready for another piggyback, Ms. Paroo?”

She pushed his shoulder. “I’m fully recovered. No sense in throwing your back out for an old woman. I can walk to the boat.”

Gerry gathered the gauzy fabric of her skirt and tied it in a knot above her knees. Emily rolled up her khaki pants legs. The two locked arms, and Lacey hovered behind them as they headed to the craft, her hands outstretched—prepared to catch anyone who stumbled.

She’d probably letme take a nosedive and not lift a finger.

Jon’s feet sank lower in the wet sand as the crystal-clear water lapped around his toes. Fernando splashed to his side. He bent forward and swept his arm at the boat like a doorman at a fancy hotel.

“Was everything okay?” Jon asked.

“What?”

“Didn’t you have an emergency?”

“No.” The young man tilted his head. “Mrs. Emily asked me to leave and not come back for a few hours.”

Jon’s gaze swung to the older woman. She stood at the side of the boat, whispering with Gerry. It was a setup from the beginning, but with what intent? Even now, he didn’t buy Collins’s cockeyed theory they were involved in the drug smuggling. The matchmaking strings were so obvious. He hoped that’s all there was to it.

Better not tell Lacey about Fernando’s confession. No need to add more fuel to her paranoia fire. Of course, was it truly paranoia when she was 100 percent right? The Shippers were out to get them.

He should be upset. Their little scheme cost him valuable time away from the investigation. But the matchmakers’ interference got him something he’d lacked for two and a half years—answers. They weren’t the ones he wanted, but at least he knew where he stood.

Firmly in the friend zone.

That was fine. All the better. His brain listed the reasons this wasn’t the time for romance, but his eyes cut to the alluring blonde who stood facing away from him—a common sight these days. Jon kicked at the water surging around his feet.

He was tired of playing puppy. How many times did he have to taste rejection before he got the message? Still, every time he thought his feelings had ebbed, his heart washed right back to Lacey.