12. In Which Playing Mexican Train Leads to Friendship
Chapter 12
In Which Playing Mexican Train Leads to Friendship
T he wind whipped her soft pink nightgown around. She breathed in the night air, heavily laden with salt, and gazed over the ocean, feeling the hum of the cruise ship’s engine through her sandals. Closing her eyes, Ellie allowed the sounds of the boat to wash over her. She needed a reprieve from the constant activities and noise of a ship full of vacationers. After spending most days relaxing, she had a twinge of loneliness and wandered to the upper deck. Several days of being surrounded by a crowd of people but left to herself was taking its toll. Ellie didn’t want small talk, but she would, instead, take meaningful conversation.
“Seems I wasn’t the only one who needed fresh air.”
Her eyes flew open at the unexpected male voice. She turned to see one of the tall men from the bar with Mr. Lucci a few days ago. The blond one. The one she had given the disguise to. She hadn’t seen them since that first day but hadn’t looked either, enjoying her own company. He was studying her, giving that same intense stare he had in the bar as he approached. An expression of smug arrogance on his face, as if she were a puzzle he was trying to figure out, one that eluded him.
Ellie opened her mouth to spit out a retort. He held up his hands. “I come in peace.”
“Left your sunglasses and newspaper back in your cabin, I see.”
He smiled at that as she turned to look back out over the water, gripping the railing. He moved closer and stood three rungs over, giving her space but still crowding it simultaneously.
“You may have found the perfect spot to get lost in your thoughts,” he said; a dimple on his cheek flashed as he talked.
“Mmm,” she said to the sea. “What about you?” She tilted her head sideways.
“I . . . have something on my mind.” He cleared his throat. “I needed a good strut around a quiet deck.” He moved to stand beside her, placing both of his large hands on the railing, gently gripping the steel. Ellie glanced at his long, graceful fingers and perfectly manicured nails. Her eyes traced the hills and valleys of his knuckles, his forearm, his shoulder, and up to his hair set perfectly in place. Ellie had the overwhelming urge to mess it up.
“So, stalker,” she began.
“I beg your pardon?” He lifted one eyebrow.
“Stalker,” she repeated. “Are you going to introduce yourself, or do you want to hide behind that plant over there?”
He shook his head. “I reckon I deserve that.”
Ellie nodded. “I reckon you do. Subtlety must’ve not been something they taught in your fancy boarding school.”
The stranger’s eyes widened, and he gawked at her. She smirked at her guess.
“Don’t all you uppity English boys go to boarding school so your parents can go out on fox hunts and talk about the servants?”
His laugh burst from within him uncontrollably, shoulders bouncing. His eyes twinkled a moment before he settled down with a throat clear. He turned to face her and braced his elbow on the railing.
“I’m Evander, Duke of Bradford.” His face contorted for a moment, and he huffed a snort out of his nose, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know why I said that. Evander will do.”
Ellie fought the grin that tried to make its way across her face and soon lost. She covered her mouth, but a giggle broke free. “I’m sorry. Am I supposed to bow or something?” Letting go of the railing with one hand, she drew her nightgown up with the other and tried to curtsy. She tripped herself on the hem and toppled forward inelegantly, forcing him to reach out to steady her. Her bright eyes lifted as her lips grew wide in a smile.
“Your Highness,” she said, still giggling. She gripped his forearm as she righted herself. “I’m Ellie.”
“Well . . . I mean, I’m not, or I wasn’t high enough to be addressed as a—” Evander stumbled over his words, flustered.
“Do you play Mexican Train, Your Highness, or is that beneath you?”
He looked around as if she was talking to some imaginary person on the deck. His head swiveled left and right, and he shook it when it returned to the center.
“Pardon?” he asked for the second time.
“I figure if you’re going to lurk around on the ship, better to pretend to play a game. Less obvious.” When he still looked confused, she continued. “Mexican Train, you play it with dominoes.”
Evander’s lips tightened into a slender line. “I don’t have any dominoes.”
Ellie shook her bag. A hollow, rattling sound of pieces moving inside a tin box came from the fabric. “I always carry a set with me. Come on, I’ll teach you.”
He gave her a skeptical glance, but she was already nodding and reaching for him.
“Come on, Your Highness,” she said sarcastically, waving her hand at him. “Your cover is already blown. Besides, I can’t sleep, you can’t sleep, and I have dominoes.” Her hand glided into place, fitting in his. His hand was cool and calloused, something she hadn’t expected.
“Shouldn’t you be cautious of the so-called stalker from the bar?” he protested as she pulled him along. “Not forcing him to play dominoes against his will?”
Ellie paused and tapped her lips with her index finger, frowning. “Maybe I should.” She shrugged. “But I need a little excitement in my life, and playing a game with a man in disguise seems like the kind of excitement I need.”
“But I’m not wearing a disguise.”
“So?”
“And I don’t know how to play.”
“And?”
Evander followed her into the brightly lit but empty dining hall. “Don’t I get a say in this?”
“No,” she said over her shoulder.
One hour, one coffee, a complaint about the awful tea on board, a slice of pie shared with two forks, and a pile of dominoes later, Ellie found herself enjoying his company more than she thought she would. It felt intimate in the almost vacant buffet room, surrounded by fluorescent lights and deck chairs. He wasn’t as uptight as his appearance led her to believe, although he didn’t loosen up either. She would find him watching her, his eyes meeting hers, and a shy smile would creep across his face.
But he was a terrible domino player.
She set the tile down with a soft click and clapped triumphantly. “Blocked.”
“You are quite competitive, aren’t you, Ellie?” He fingered the dominoes before him, deciding the next to play.
“I had to be. In my house, dominoes ruled all.”
Ellie watched him intensely as he concentrated on his hand, though she told herself it was out of mere curiosity. She had never met a more serious man. He looked young; his face chiseled to perfection; his mouth drawn taut in concentration. But it was his eyes that fascinated her. Whenever he looked up at her with those stormy, blue-green eyes, her stupid idiot heart would skip a beat. They held a depth to them that, at his age, she guessed around mid-twenties, had no business being as soulful as they were. They pulled her in with each glance.
He clicked a tile down.
“So, are you cruising alone or . . .” he trailed off. He glanced at the table, picked up his terrible tea, and sipped.
Ellie sighed. “I supposed I’m celebrating the end of a marriage.” She shrugged.
“So, not with your husband?”
“Ex. My ex-husband is back in Texas, and I’m here. It’s a damn fine celebration if you ask me.”
“What went wrong, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Ellie looked at him with a worrisome scowl, took a shallow breath, and shifted her weight. She tapped out a rhythm with the domino on the table. Tucking a rebellious curl behind her ear, she played with the other dominoes in front of her while she studied the moves. She laid one down with a soft click.
“It just did,” she mumbled to the table as her finger drew little circles on the Formica top. She raised her gaze towards him and smiled weakly, the corners of her mouth barely lifting.
“I’m sorry, that was incredibly rude of me to ask,” Evander said quickly. “My apologies; I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
She took a big breath and let it go in a whoosh. “We hadn’t been happy for years. He cheated and now lives with Cassandra, and you know what, it was a relief when he cheated.”
“Oh?” He laid a tile down.
“Yes, because now I get to do what I want.”
“So, what do you want, now that you are single?”
She paused, her hand suspended over the table with a domino in her grasp and frowned. “I don’t know that I’ve given it any thought,” the tile clicked confidently on the table.
“I want . . . I don’t know.” Her gaze darted to the doors. “I want to be appreciated, I think. My ex was forever telling me all the ways I had failed. My weight, clothes, and personality were all an insult to him. He was the type of man that everything had to be perfect. Even after it all went bad, I still pretended for him.”
Evander scratched his chin and clicked a tile down. “Do you think you’ll ever remarry?”
Her laugh sounded sad, but she shrugged. “The hopeless romantic in me wants to say yes. She wants to fall in love again. The kind that comes out of nowhere and makes absolutely no sense at all.” She laid down a domino. “But the cynic in me knows that kind of love is only alive in books. Love fades, if it was ever there at all. It turns people into monsters you never knew existed. Love becomes cruel, and you become a shell of the person you were. It eventually ends, like everything else.”
He nodded in agreement, his own frown curving his mouth downward.
She smiled at him, one corner twisting mischievously. “Now, ask me if I want a fling.” She winked, and Evander laughed. The previous heaviness that had fallen around them lifted with his laughter. She set down another tile with a confident click. The emotions that had clouded her mood moments before dissipated, and she was glad to be rid of them.
“The things you say to a perfect stranger.” She clicked her last domino and eyed his seven. “Are you forfeiting?”
“Yes.” He held his hands up mockingly. “I surrender.”
Ellie chuckled as she gathered the dominoes, sweeping them into a pile and laying them in numerical order in the tin.
“What about you, Mr. Fancy-Pants-Duke? Are you on the ship for vacation, or are you only here because your friends dragged you out of your bat cave and took your night vision goggles?”
Evander shook his head as he pushed stray pieces towards her. “I’m just away on holiday with Maximus and a few friends. And I don’t have night vision goggles.”
“Hum, that’s a shame.” She grinned as he rolled his eyes and cleaned up their game.
“So, I have to ask,” he said. “Dominoes?”
Ellie shrugged. “I’ve always carried some, ready for a game. If I have a purse, they are in with my book, like a security blanket. My father always had a tin with him; when he died, I couldn’t let his set go to auction.”
“I see. So it’s a family psychosis.” He grinned.
Ellie reached over and playfully tapped his metal forearm. Snorting a laugh, she gathered the last of her things before snapping the tin shut and returning them to her bag. Stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, she rose and headed towards the double doors. Evander stood quickly and fell in step beside her.
“Would you allow me to escort you to your cabin?” He matched her shorter strides with his long, graceful ones, keeping up with her easily.
“No. I can manage myself,” she said, turning a corner and heading towards a closed entertainment room. She was just about to the door when he reached and gently grabbed her elbow.
“The stairs are just over here.” He motioned with his head.
“I know, but if I cut through here, I come out just one flight up from my room.” She softly wiggled her arm free. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
“The morning?” he asked, shock in his voice.
“Yeah,” she said slyly. “After breakfast? The adult lounge?”
He reflexively nodded his head as she nodded hers. Turning back to the door, she darted into the room and was off, headed towards her cabin. Lighting equipment stood in all four corners of the long and oddly shaped room. A row of windows ran the length of one side, letting the deck lights stream into the otherwise darkened room. A stage was off to one side with mics and amps set up, ready for the next band. Ellie glanced at a large neon lotus flower hanging above the stage. She was halfway across the wooden dance floor when Evander’s footsteps thudded behind her as he lengthened his stride. Ellie whipped around to face him, causing him to pull up short.
“Stop right there, cowboy,” she said as her hand jutted from her side to the middle of his chest. Her fingers barely brushed his shirt as he stopped his advance. A scowl etched its way across her face. “I don’t need an escort to my room. I’m perfectly capable of making it there on my own.” Her hands went to her hips.
“Since you told me it was a shortcut, I figured I’d go this way,” he said, shrugging. The catch in his voice and the motion of his shoulders gave the impression of a little boy asking permission.
Ellie eyed him for a moment, trying to judge whether he was being truthful or not. After a few tense seconds with him just staring at her and her hand, she accepted his answer and turned to walk out the opposite door.
“Suit yourself,” she huffed at him. Ellie couldn’t decide if he was genuine or creepy, and that was enough to put her on edge. While she appreciated gentlemanly actions, like holding doors and being treated as rare, she was also a woman alone. She’d be damned if she led him back to her cabin. Ellie was the best shot at the gun range. She was an excellent archer, never missing the bull’s eye. She eyed him as they walked. Being shorter gave her an advantage she was sure he hadn’t thought of.
They walked along in uneasy silence as they weaved through the maze of cabins to the landing above her floor. Ellie wrestled with whether this sucker would try to pull something that required a toe to the balls. She paused at a doorway and, together, they pushed a door open on each side and walked into a brightly lit hallway with the ugliest carpet Ellie had ever seen.
“Whelp. This is where I say goodnight.”
Evander tipped his chin at her. “Good night, Miss Ellie.”
She nodded her head. “Good night, Your Highness.”
“Till morning?”
“It’s a date.”
She watched him take the stairs to his floor two at a time before going to her cabin.