Love Overboard

Chapter 24

JON YANKED THE TOWEL FROM their heads, threw it on the end of the bed, and scrambled to his feet. He held out his hand for Lacey and pulled her up. She ran for the door. Jon followed. They entered the chaotic gymnasium to find a group of passengers circling a hysterical woman.

“Get it off! Get it off!” she shrieked. Her jerky hand waved at the cot, where a spindly-legged spider skittered.

“Aw, is that all?” A heavy-lidded man clinched a blanket under his chin. “I thought you found a corpse.” He crossed the gym and plopped on his own cot.

Others wandered away, but a few stayed with the woman.

Jon approached, flicked the spider off the bed, and squashed it with his shoe.

“What kind of cruise line is this?” Of course it was Amante asking. “We paid for luxury accommodations, and you put us in this dump.”

Lacey cringed. “I deeply apologize, sir. There were no other lodgings available. The bad weather still hasn’t cleared, but the moment it does, the ship will send a boat with a certified driver for us. We hope it won’t be more than a few hours.”

“That’s what you said hours ago.” He lowered his head and waved a fist in the air. Words poured from his mouth like dirty water from a sanitation hose. If he were on television, the censor’s finger would tire of pressing the bleep button.

Lacey flinched but kept her expression neutral. Jon bit back the lecture the man deserved. That wouldn’t help the situation. Instead, he slid in front of Lacey. He couldn’t stop the raging tirade, but he could shield her from the brunt of the man’s fury.

The apoplectic customer swung his arms with all the grace of a dancing inflatable figure outside a grand opening. People around him scattered, and Jon weighed his options. What if this escalated? Luca Amante had served three prison sentences. He couldn’t be trusted to stay levelheaded.

Passengers stood at a distance, phones out, recording the blazing fit. Amante’s verbal attack continued with no end in sight. Did this guy swallow a four-letter dictionary? Jon spread his legs into a wider stance, and his right hand clenched into a fist, preparing for battle.

“Stop it this instant!” a voice demanded.

Jon’s gaze swung. Lacey peeped over his shoulder.

The crowd parted to reveal Emily, her curls pointing every which way. She marched to the unruly passenger and stood toe-to-toe with him. “Just because you’re unhappy doesn’t mean the rest of us have to listen to obscenities.”

“Who are you to stop me?” Amante punctuated his question with a few more curses.

She slapped his arm. “I’m someone who was sleeping peacefully until your potty language woke me. Calm down and go to bed. Your mother would be ashamed of you.”

The irate man’s mouth hung open as Emily about-faced and walked away. Other bystanders nodded and returned to their cots, leaving Jon and Lacey alone with the contrary passenger.

“She … she hit me.” He pointed at the spot. “That’s assault.”

Jon tensed, but Lacey stepped around him. “You’re absolutely right, sir. If you want to file a complaint, I’ll accompany you to the local police station. You can tell them a seventy-eight-year-old woman beat you up.”

Amante’s crooked jaw jutted out. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”

Jon took a candy bar from his pocket and held it out to the man. “Your blood sugar must be low from the excitement. Why don’t you have a snack and rest? I’ll wake you as soon as the reinforcements arrive.”

“Don’t treat me like a child!” He advanced and poked an aggressive finger. “If I don’t receive a full refund, I’ll scream my head off to any news channel that will listen. This line’s reputation will be”—he squinted in Emily’s direction and censored his word choice—“in the crapper.” The petulant man snatched the candy and stomped off to his cot.

Jon exhaled. Crisis averted with no injuries. He leaned toward Lacey and murmured from one side of his mouth, “Should we sing him a lullaby?”

She rubbed her temples. “Pass.”

He put his arm around her back and steered her to the office. They entered the private area, but Jon made sure the door stayed open so he could keep an eye on Amante, whose bed was a few feet away.

Lacey plopped on the floor in the corner. She released a tired sigh and stared at her chapped hands. “Will this night never end?”

“The rain should quit anytime now.” Jon snagged the blanket from the cot and spread it around her. He sat to her left and stretched. “We’ll get a call from the ship when it’s safe for them to send the tender. Until then—”

“Aaaaah!” She pressed against the wall.

“What?” He raised up on one knee. “What’s wrong?”

Her trembling finger pointed to three feet away, where an enormous spider scurried across the broken plaster. Lacey grasped the blanket tight.

Jon observed her cower with a quirk of his lip. “Still hate spiders?”

“With every fiber of my being.”

He really shouldn’t find her obvious distress adorable. But he did. “Want me to kill it?”

“With every fiber of my being.” Her eyes pleaded with him.

He pushed off the floor and grabbed a tattered magazine from a nearby table. Rolling it, he walked to the far wall and swatted the bug. Jon dropped the magazine on the floor and returned to her side.

Lacey clapped. “My hero.”

“Wish you meant that.”

She readjusted the blanket around her body, avoiding the obvious hint. That was nothing new. He was used to it by now. But Lacey sitting beside him of her own free will might even be considered progress.

Incessant rain drummed against the roof in an angry rhythm that Noah of old might recognize. Lacey’s nose twitched at the pervasive scent of mold. Her rear end ached from sitting on the hard floor, and even a stiff army cot sounded tempting. But she didn’t want Jon to suffer alone. Someone should help keep watch. Who knew when another crisis might arise?

She tapped her fingers against the concrete. Something moved. Lacey looked down and shrieked. Her body vaulted forward. She barreled to the window.

“What?” Jon pushed to his feet.

“Spider.” Lacey shuddered. “Another one.”

Jon crushed it under his heel. “It’s an old building. Probably a lot of them in the walls.”

Lacey whimpered.

“Sorry. Not the best thing to say, under the circumstances.”

“You think?” She bracketed her face with her hands, trying to shut out the room. “This is a nightmare. I won’t get any sleep tonight. I might as well stand with my nose in the corner.”

“Spiders can crawl up.” Jon ducked as she seized the discarded magazine from the floor and hurled it at him. “Okay. Sorry. But you’re so appealing when you freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out.” She crouched in the middle of the room and wrapped her arms around her legs. “I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours. First, the sprinkler crisis, and now we’re marooned on Arachnid Island with a bunch of litigation-happy passengers.” Her body hovered above the floor, only the soles of her shoes making contact with the grimy tiles.

Jon shrugged out of his jacket. After laying it on the ground behind Lacey, he gently pushed her to a sitting position and settled beside her. Patting his shoulder, he nodded.

She scrunched her eyebrows at him.

He thumped his shoulder again. “You can borrow it awhile. I’ll protect you from any creepy-crawlies.”

“Yeah right.” She frowned. “You’ll fall asleep the minute my eyes close.”

“I promise, not a wink.” He tweaked her chin. “Have you ever known me to break a promise?”

She couldn’t recall a single time. “You swear you’ll stay awake?”

“Cross my heart.” He made the motion over his chest and held his hand up like he was taking an oath.

Lacey bit her lower lip. A quick nap. What could it hurt? She inched her head onto the broad shoulder beside her, and Jon slumped a little to make it more comfortable.

Her head lifted. “Wake me if you see a spider.”

He blew out a ragged breath and pushed her head onto his shoulder. “Go to sleep.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Lacey murmured.

She had to give him credit. Jon showed up when it mattered—when it wasn’t even his responsibility. What other man on the MS Buckingham would drive a tiny boat through a dangerous storm to babysit a bunch of outraged passengers? Who else would stand between a raving maniac and her? How many guys would—

Her eyelids drooped no matter how hard she tried to keep them open, and she sank into a sweet, spiderless dream.