3
Evan stood at the sliding glass door, looking out onto the veranda. He’d never anticipated getting such a nice suite. He’d been booked for an inside cabin, understandable since the cruise was gratis. This was an unexpected and much appreciated – he suffered from a slight case of claustrophobia – turn of events. He could tolerate elevators, especially if they were the glass kind, but the thought of spending a few nights in a very small room with no windows made his chest feel tight.
The cruise director had been very gracious to upgrade him. What was his name again? Martin? Marvin? Marco. That was it. Very nice man. Pretty damn nice to look at too. Thick black, wavy hair, eyes the color of amber…and a body poured into his white uniform. And that accent! Was it Greek or Italian? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was it made his dick sit up and take notice. And hadn’t he been quite a bit flirty? Yes. Yes, he had.
He was so familiar. Where did he know the guy from? Did he know him, or was Marco right and just had the kind of face that seemed to be recognizable? In any case, Marco was a dream in white.
Stop that. Tina may have talked you into taking the cruise, but that doesn’t mean you get to jump the bones of the first sailor who smiles in your direction. Besides, he probably smiles like that at everybody. It’s his job. He unlocked the door and slid it open, instantly rewarded with a waft of salty sea air. Outside, he found he had a fine view of the water and watched seabirds dip and glide over the small whitecaps.
A knock caught his attention, and he hurried back inside the cabin, careful to close the sliding door after him. “Coming!“
he called when the knock came again.
He opened the door to Marco’s smiling face and was once again struck by déjà vu. “Hello, Mr. Sharpe. I have a few things for you to try.”
He stepped back and allowed Marco into the cabin. Marco carried a couple of shirts on hangers and a pair of khaki pants, which he laid neatly on the bed.
“I brought a T-shirt, a pair of shorts, a button-down, and a pair of long pants. I had to guesstimate the length. Thirty-four inches? Yes? Good. This way you’ll be set for dinner service and can go shopping later at your leisure.“
Marco gave him a dimpled smile.
Oh, those dimples. Regardless of his earlier resolve not to get involved with the first sailor who batted long eyelashes at him, Evan wanted to dive into those dimples headfirst. Then he silently berated himself for thinking such a thing. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, not even of the one-night-stand variety.
Wait… One night stand? No, it couldn’t be.
Could it? A dim memory surfaced, seen as if from underwater, wavy and slightly distorted. Alcohol, and lots of it. Kisses, hot and wet and insistent, full of tongue and attitude. Naked flesh, smooth and firm. Then coming, a climax hard enough to rattle his teeth.
Oh, God.
He remembered. The question was, did Marco? He didn’t act as though he remembered Evan, which came surprisingly as a blow to Evan’s pride.
He pushed the thoughts away for now and lifted his chin, finding a tight smile. “Thank you. This really wasn’t necessary.”
“It’s no problem at all. I’ve also arranged for you to sit at the Captain’s Table tonight for the eight o’clock dinner seating. Will that be all right?”
“Oh, wow. Um, sure. That’ll be fine. That’s in the main dining room?”
“Yes, the Soliloquy. The button-down and the long pants will be fine for dinner wear. Just give your name to the hostess.”
“Thanks, Marco.”
“My pleasure, Mr. Sharpe.“
Marco gave him a small bow.
“Please, call me Evan.”
“I’m honored, Evan. Enjoy your day exploring the ship!“
Marco grinned at him, then hurried out of the cabin.
Evan stood staring at the closed door for a long moment. What should he do now? Marco didn’t seem to remember him, but he was remembering Marco all too well.
There’d been a bar, Min’s. It was Evan’s first solo trip to a gay bar, and Marco had been standing in a corner under a pulsing light, dancing by himself. He was drawn to Marco’s good looks and exotic accent. They’d danced, drank too much, and taken a taxi to Marco’s hotel room. Evan was at a loss afterward, and had left before the come dried on the sheets. He hadn’t even gotten Marco’s last name.
He packed the memory away. Marco obviously didn’t remember him, and he wasn’t going to remind him about a six-year-old, meaningless one night quickie.
He stripped off his shirt and pulled on the new one – it was blue with a white RNJ Paradise logo on it. He kept his shorts on – they were clean – and he’d change into the long pants and button-down shirt for dinner later that night.
For now, he was going to go explore the ship a bit, maybe get a frozen drink at the pool bar. The thought of an alcoholic beverage sounded delightful, although he had no intention of imbibing enough to get him sloshed. He would maintain his decorum, no matter what, of that he was certain.
But a slight buzz couldn’t hurt after the day he’d had so far. Maybe a little more than a slight one at that.
Marco. Stop thinking about Marco.
But once remembered, the hot, passionate – if drunken -- one-nighter couldn’t be easily forgotten.
Evan fished out the small notebook and pen he kept in his pocket and jotted down a few very complimentary notes about the customer service, then tucked it away again. Then he grabbed his SeaPass, stuck it in his wallet, left his cabin, and hurried down the long hallway toward the elevators.
The elevator took him up to Deck Fourteen, where he spilled out with the other passengers and followed them to the pool area. Calypso music filled the air, along with chatter and laughter. The bar was open and doing a brisk business, but Evan thought it would probably only get busier as time went on and decided to grab a drink while he could. He slid into an empty spot at the bar and waited for the bartender’s attention. When he had it, he ordered the special, some sort of frozen concoction. While he waited, he filmed the pool deck for the podcast. After collecting his frothy drink, noting with a smile the cliched tiny umbrella piercing a chunk of pineapple stuck on the rim of the hurricane glass, he wandered for a while, dodging people in swimsuits and others in shorts and t-shirts, meandering around the pool area, trying to find somewhere he could sit and enjoy his drink.
Luck didn’t seem to be on his side. All the tables and lounge chairs were taken, either with people sitting at them or having been claimed by pool towels. He had just resigned himself to going back to the cabin when a gravelly voice called out.
“Hey, if you need a place to sit, you can join us!”
He glanced around. A gray-haired woman waved at him. She was sitting at a table with another woman, and both were smiling at him. “Um…me?”
“Yes, you. Come, sit!“
She waved him in much like a traffic controller directing a plane on the tarmac.
He shocked himself by approaching their table. Joining in with strangers was not his usual cup of tea, but he really did want to sit down and not have to return to the cabin so soon.
“I’m Jo Crespo, and this is my wife, Patti.“
The first woman grinned at him and gestured to a chair. “Take a load off.”
“Hi. I’m Evan,“
he said, settling into the molded plastic chair. He placed his drink on the table in front of him. “Thank you for offering. It’s crowded up here. Could I ask…how did you know I was here alone?”
Jo laughed. “We’re old hands at cruising. We can spot a loner from a mile away. A handsome young man like you shouldn’t be alone, even if the only company you have is a pair of old ladies like us.”
Evan immediately demurred. “Oh, you’re not old!”
This time Patti cackled and patted his arm. “Aren’t you darling? We are too, old. And we’ve proudly earned every gray hair on our heads. Now tell, how do you come to be on this ship by yourself?”
Evan found himself instantly liking the pair and warmed to them. “I have a travel podcast, and I’m supposed to give a review of this cruise. The ticket didn’t come with a plus one.“
Not that he had anyone, except perhaps for Tina, to bring with him, but there was no need to go into the depressing details.
“How exciting! I bet you travel all over the world. What other places have you been?” Jo asked.
“I’ve been to Great Britain, France, and Italy. Hong Kong. And I’ve been to almost all fifty states, Canada, and Mexico.”
“My, my! A world traveler at your age! And you always go alone?“
Patti asked. She rested her elbow on the table and cupped her chin.
“Well, no. To be honest, I had a breakup, and it’s hard finding someone to travel with all the time. Tina has come with me a few times.”
Jo cocked her head. “Tina? New girlfriend?”
Evan smiled. “No, my best friend. I’m gay.”
Patti slapped the table with her palm. “I knew it. You’re too good-looking to be straight.”
This time Evan laughed. “Isn’t that a bit stereotypical?”
“Hey, if the compliment fits, wear it.“
Jo snorted and elbowed Patti. “I’m sorry to hear you had a breakup, but I don’t see a ring on your finger. I take it you’re still single?”
Evan nodded but felt a little itchy. Things were getting a bit too personal for a conversation with people he’d just met. “Um, yeah. I’m single. Listen, ladies, I really should be going—”
“Oh, dear. Look what you did, Jo. You’re frightening him away.“
Patti tsked her wife. “She never really thinks before she speaks. No filters. Forgive her, please, and don’t go. We love meeting new people so much.”
“Oh, it isn’t that. I just, I mean I have, um, filming to do. For the podcast.“
Evan tried to make a graceful exit, but the ladies were having none of it.
“Nonsense. You have plenty of time to work. Look, your drink is melting. Let’s go have lunch together. The Soliloquy is open, and shorts are perfectly acceptable at lunch.“
Jo grinned at him and stood up, as if it were already decided.
Which, Evan realized, it had been.
Wondering what superpower the two women possessed that had him so agreeable to their whims, he followed Jo and Patti inside to the elevators, and rode down to Deck Four, where the Soliloquy was located. It was the main dining room, a huge, two-story affair with tables set with white linen, real china, and silverware. The napkins were folded into rosettes. Fancy, he thought. He took a quick video of the room and a few shots of the table set ups as well.
A moment later, a hostess came up and ushered them to a four-top. They settled in to peruse the menu.
“Why, Mr. Sharpe! I see you’ve already found the two most lovely ladies aboard ship.”
Evan looked up from his menu, shocked to see Marco standing by the table. “Um, oh, it’s you! I mean, Marco. Um, yes. They’ve been very kind.“
He tried hard not to stammer and failed miserably.
“Oh, you two know each other? How wonderful!“
Jo clapped her hands together. “Have you known each other long?”
“Yes,“
Evan said, then immediately wanted to yank his tongue out of his mouth by the roots. “I’m mean, uh…” Shit! He’d almost given away the fact that he recognized Marco.
“We met earlier today,“
Marco cut in. “Mr. Sharpe needed help with some lost luggage. I was happy to assist.”
“It’s Evan, remember? And I appreciate everything you did for me.“
His face was on fire – he could feel it burning.
“Of course, Evan.“
Marco waved over the sommelier. “Bring a bottle of Sauvignon to the table, please.” He turned to Jo, Patti, and Evan. “I have heard from the chef that the beef spaghetti Bolognese is excellent today. Or if you’d rather a vegetarian plate, try the spinach and ricotta ravioli.”
“Aren’t you darling? Thank you, Marco.“
Jo set her menu down. “You always know just the right thing to suggest. I’m going to have the spaghetti. Tell me, what activities do you have planned for this evening?”
Marco offered a bright smile. “There will be a Silent Disco at ten. Are you three going to be there?”
“We will!“
Jo and Patti chimed.
“Oh, no,“
Evan said, shaking his head.
“What do you mean, no? You have to come,“
Jo protested. “You need to experience everything so you can talk about it, don’t you?”
Evan’s voice caught. Maybe he should film it, but participate? Never. It ranked right up there with things best avoided, like karaoke and handsome cruise directors. “I was going to have dinner then do some work in my cabin—”
“Nonsense! Miss Jo and Miss Patti are entirely correct. You are here to enjoy yourself! You’re having dinner at the Captain’s Table tonight, remember? I’ll be there, and then after I can escort you to the Silent Disco. I can give you a behind the scenes tour for your podcast.“
Marco gave Evan a short bow. “Until tonight.” He smiled and sauntered away.
Evan sat back in his chair, jaw agape. What had just happened? Did he just score a date? With an honest to goodness Mediterranean god in a white uniform? One that he’d seen naked once upon a time?
Somehow, some way, he had, and through no fault of his own.
What was he going to do now?
“Evan? Evan, dear, what’s wrong? Close your mouth before you catch a fly in it.“
Jo patted his arm.
The sommelier arrived with a bottle of wine. He opened it, and poured some for Evan to taste, but Evan’s mind was a million miles away from wine. Jo grabbed the glass instead, tasted it, and proclaimed it fine. The sommelier poured them each a glass and retreated, leaving the bottle.
Jo patted his hand. “Evan? Evan are you all right?”
“I don’t do dates. I haven’t been on one in, well, a really long time. The breakup I had was painful, and I haven’t gotten back up on that particular horse since.”
“How long has it been, dear?” Jo asked.
“Almost three months. But I was with the same guy for two years.”
“Wow. Do you even remember how dates work?“
Patti asked with a giggle. “It’s easy. You have dinner, then go with Marco to the disco, you have fun, and if you play your cards right, you end the night as a very happy man.” She winked at him.
Jo gasped. “Patti! Evan isn’t going to go to bed with Marco on the first date!”
“Why not? They’re both of age, and there’s obviously an attraction there,“
Patti countered.
“Oh, God. I’m going to be sick,“
Evan whispered. He grabbed his glass of wine and downed it, then poured himself a second.
“No, you’re not. Don’t listen to Patti. You’re going to go to dinner, then the disco, have a wonderful time, and then say goodnight. No pressure.“
Jo huffed at her wife, and smiled at Evan. “It’s going to be terrific. And we’ll meet you for breakfast tomorrow morning to get a detailed report.”
Evan thought maybe, just maybe, this might be a three-glass-of-wine lunch. In fact, he might just need to order another bottle.