Chapter 2
God. She hated traveling.
The planning, the packing, the flights where you were jammed in next to the person who had no clue how to deal with BO, or the one who had verbal diarrhea, or the kid behind you who thought your seat was a football and they were the next NFL kicking legend, the noise, the general chaos of people moving from place to place, the delays. ..
And then there was the toddler on a sugar high from all the fizzy drink the flight attendant handed out like air who not only couldn't sit still but couldn't keep all that bubbly liquid down for long.
Pushing through the cabin door, Sarah dragged her suitcase behind her only holding on until it cleared the entrance and the door closed behind her.
The second the rest of the world was shut out and silence surrounded her, she peeled off her puked-on shirt and bra, dropped them on the floor and pushed her sticky pants down to join them. She breathed a sigh of relief when the cool air-conditioned air hit her hot, damp skin.
Even though she was free of her icky clothes she needed a shower. Needed to get rid of the stench as well as the clammy film coating her.
The can of deodorant she'd sprayed on herself after attempting to wash her clothes—while wearing them—in the airport restroom stank just as bad as the vomit she'd been sprayed with.
Spinning around she spotted the bathroom and headed for it. Yanking the door closed behind her, she had barely flicked the water on before stepping into the cubicle and diving face first under the stream.
"Fuck, that's cold."
In spite of the shivers running through her, she remained beneath the shower, head tilted back, and let the water flow over her and wash away the day.
God, she really did hate traveling.
If it wasn't for the promised days of vacation, relaxing in the sun and exploring somewhere new, she'd never leave home again.
When the water warmed, she opened her eyes and looked around for any kind of soap, at this point she would wash her body with shampoo or conditioner—toothpaste if it came to that. She should have grabbed her toiletries before jumping in the shower but desperate times...
Spying a pump-pack thingy attached to the wall, she put her fingers under the nozzle and pushed the release with the heel of her palm a couple of times.
The sweet scent of some kind of flower floated around her and she brought her hand up to get a better smell. With a closer sniff she might be able to figure out what the fragrance was and hopefully it would banish the stench of vomit lining her nostrils.
She dragged in a deep breath. Then a second.
"Nope. No clue what that is."
Not that it mattered. As long as it smelled better than puke and sweat and cheap deodorant, she didn't care what was in it. The only thing that mattered was getting rid of the foul odor and the sticky feeling clinging to her skin.
As much as she wanted to wash her hair, she left it. She'd jump back in after she unpacked her bag and brought her toiletries into the bathroom. She should probably give her travel clothes a proper wash too.
"Or I can just hop out now and grab everything I need and get it done."
Pushing open the shower door, she left the water running, snagged one of the neatly folded plush towels from the shelf under the sink and wrapped it around her body. The second she stepped into the cabin she stopped.
Standing on the other side of the bed, his hand on the door to the balcony stood the man she'd dreaded seeing as much as she had wanted to.
Asha Yunker.
Santa to her Elf for this cruise.
Winter Lake Chief of police.
Her boss.
And the man she'd been fantasizing about from the moment she'd laid eyes on him.
The man who wouldn't treat her as more than his employee—a workplace friend—even when his gaze told her he wanted something different.
He was the poster-boy for mixed signals. His words said one thing, but his eyes and body said another.
She'd known she would see him today at some point. Known he'd do everything he could to keep his distance outside of what they were required to do together on this cruise, and she'd been prepared for that.
Kind of.
She had over two years of experience in longing for Asha from afar, another two weeks couldn't be that hard.
Although she wasn't prepared to see him in her cabin while she wore nothing but a towel.
"What are you doing here?" She silently cursed herself for sounding breathless, for sounding as though she didn't really care why he was in her room just that she was glad he was instead of the accusation she'd been going for.
He cocked his head to the side, his body poised to run, and she wondered if he would like every other time they found themselves alone in a room together.
Not that they'd ever been alone outside of the station. And certainly not while one of them was practically naked. She fisted the towel tighter, hitched it higher on her chest, except that meant more of her thighs showed.
Gripping the bottom edge, she tried to keep herself decently covered and waited for Asha to answer her.
"Ah, we, um." His gaze darted around the room as he brought a hand up and scrubbed it down his face. "I think they've put us in the same room."
She heard him, each word like a slap to her nerve endings making them tingle, but as much as she tried, she couldn't quite wrap her head around what he'd said.
"They've put us in the same room…” Repeating his words didn't help.
"Yeah." That hand rubbed over his stubbled chin, one, from experience, she knew had to be unshaven for a few days to get to that length. "Here."
"Here." Sarah glanced around, noted her bag where she'd left it by the door, then his on the other side of the bed at his feet. It took a moment, but the lightbulb went off and what he was saying became crystal clear.
"They put us in the same room," she said again, her voice barely a whisper.
He brought his gaze to hers, nodded. "Yes."
"We're roommates?"
A second nod was his only reply.
Well shit. She'd never survive two weeks sleeping in the same room as Asha.