Chapter 7
For the third time the next morning, Trey knocked on Jenn’s door with no response. He checked his phone again. Still no response to either of his messages. Jenn was ghosting him. On a ship? Was that even possible on a ship? He'd heard of ghost ships, but this was ridiculous!
Trey turned away from the silence of the cabin door. Ricardo! When he saw Trey turn and begin walking toward him, the man yanked the supply closet door closed and scrambled backward, pulling the cart he held between them like a shield.
“Ricardo, I just have a question. Have you seen Ms. Jenn this morning at all?”
Ricardo waved his hands as if shooing away a bothersome stray animal. “No. Can’t help. Very busy, Mr. Trey.”
Trey slowed to a stop as Ricardo wheeled around a corner and out of sight. He pulled out his phone and stared at the empty messaging screen helplessly. Where could she be?
Last night literally could not have gone worse. Trey thought they’d been on sure footing after their afternoon delight. Apparently, he’d been wrong. He had absolutely no idea why Jenn had decided that she needed to have him right away, and in the pool, of all places. Like a couple of horny teenagers. She’d mentioned his clumsily-covered-up text. Was that it?
It seemed silly to say that she’d been upset. A little like saying a volcano is hot. Sure, it’s a true statement, but a massive exercise in understatement.
Just then, the chime of the loudspeaker system sounded.
“Good morning cruisers, this is your captain speaking. We have docked successfully, and we’re just waiting on the last finishing touches to get the ship all secure before we open up the gangway. If you have any last-minute signups or alterations to your shore excursions, there are attendants waiting at the Shore Excursion counter in the atrium to assist you. Otherwise, please enjoy your day in Cozumel.”
That was it: shore excursions. If Jenn was truly as mad at him as he thought, he bet dimes to dozens that she would be changing her shore excursion to one that he wasn’t on.
Trey wove his way along with the other passengers heading down toward the gangway on the lower levels. The lines for the elevators were longer than a ladies’ bathroom at a Taylor Swift concert.
Trey headed for the atrium balcony. Staring down, the wide open, glass-encased chamber echoed loudly with the voices of excited passengers and a single lonely guitar player whose attempts at an Eagles song were largely ignored and overshadowed.
Trey peered down into the sea of brightly colored sundresses, woven-grass hats, and obnoxious Hawaiian print shirts. How the hell was he supposed to see a single specific woman in all of— There she is!
“Jenn!”
She didn’t look up.
Trey cupped his hands around his mouth and leaned as far as he dared over the balcony railing. “Jenn!” he shouted again. He thought she might have turned her head slightly, but she never looked up.
He turned and ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time right up until he stumbled, and his foot slipped down a step.
He went down hard, falling backward onto the stairs as his ankle crumpled beneath him.
“Damnit!” he hissed as a few other passengers rushed toward him, offering concerned gasps, words of consolation, and a few helpful hands up.
Trey tried to smile through the pain in his ankle as he waved them away graciously. “I’m fine. It’s fine,” he said, continuing to limp his way downstairs.
Slowly, painfully, he hobbled down the rest of the remaining flights of stairs to the floor of the atrium.
Damn, damn, double damn! There was no sign of Jenn. Trey tried to stand on tiptoe to see above the crowd and winced. His injured ankle was not going to support him, and he couldn’t balance well enough on one ankle to see much. He made his way to the Shore Excursions counter.
“Excuse me,” he said loudly, over the top of the attendant helping a couple in particularly bad matching Hawaiian print sun dress and shirt combo. The woman glanced at him, annoyed.
“Sir, if you’re wanting to book an excursion, we’ll be happy to serve you at your turn.” The attendant smiled thinly and pointed to the end of the long line.
“No, sorry, I just wanted to ask about a woman who was just here.”
The woman’s face went tight and decidedly cold. “I’m sorry, sir, we can’t give out information about other passengers.”
“No, I— she’s my wife.”
The woman looked at him, suspicion coming so thick from her eyes he could have spread it on toast.
“What room are you in, Sir?”
“No, that— we’re staying in different rooms.”
The woman paused, her face now starkly devoid of expression. Trey wondered briefly if she thought she was actually hiding any of the obviously negative thoughts she was having about him.
“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t give out the information of other passengers. It’s for everyone’s safety, sir.”
Trey sighed. There would obviously be no help coming from this direction. He glanced at the couple at the counter. The man’s whole face wore a furrow that traveled uninterrupted from his forehead to his chin, and the woman’s disgusted sneer had Trey gritting his teeth.
“Creep,” he heard her say.
It was all Trey could do to walk away from the desk without saying anything. The last thing he needed was to draw more attention to himself.
His mind raced. He couldn’t call her, couldn’t message her. He glanced down at his ankle. Couldn’t follow her.
“Are you all right, sir?” The cruise employee gently touched Trey’s shoulder, pulling him out of his stupor.
“What?” Trey glanced down at his ankle again. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, hopping as he fought to keep his balance without stepping on the offending ankle.
“Do you need to see the ship’s doctor, sir?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Trey looked up, an idea flickering in his brain.
“Is there a pair of binoculars I could borrow?”
A few minutes later, holding the expensive pair of binoculars he hadn’t intended on buying, but been given no other option, Trey stood watch on the top deck as close to shore as he could get, his eyes fixed on the gangway doors where the waiting crowds would appear from the cruise ship.
His best chance at knowing where Jenn went would be if he could spot her from the ship, using the binoculars, and track what excursion group she hooked up with. Maybe then he could follow after.
He winced again as he set his foot down even slightly. Or not.
The doors opened. He leaned out over the railing to get a view of the faces coming out of the gangway. He just needed to spot her as she came out.
The faces came and went, throngs of passengers holding bags, wearing sunglasses and wide, brimmed hats.
He turned his attention toward picking out the pale-yellow blouse and mermaid style white skirt Jenn had been wearing. Picking out her face with the sunglasses and hats felt like a losing task.
The passengers flowed outward, flitting in groups of twos, threes, and more, only a few single figures entirely on their own. It was only the loneliest or the surliest of persons who didn’t have a friend by day three of the cruise. Trey tried not to think about what the quietness of the deck said about him right now.
There!
He squinted, trying to tell if it was truly Jenn who’d exited the ship or just a lookalike. It was only dumb luck that made the woman lift her head, studying the sky overhead and gripping the hat that threatened to blow away.
The pixie cut gave her away. It was Jenn. Trey felt his anxiety lessen just slightly. At least he could breathe again. Now he just needed to see where she went.
He watched Jenn file with the rest of the crowd into the long building at the end of the dock and disappear inside. He raised the binoculars to his eyes and watched the other end almost without blinking. If she emerged from there without him seeing her, chances were good that he’d never find her again.
His eyes burned from blinking too little in the stiff sea breeze that whipped up the side of the cruise ship into his face. He risked a long series of blinks to cope with the sting.
He inhaled sharply when Jenn emerged from the building. She was talking to someone: a tall man in a loose black tank top that emphasized his huge arms and shoulders.
“Shit!” Trey lowered the optics, his mouth and eyes spread wide. “Are you kidding me?” Raising the binoculars again, he swept them over the shore until he found them again. Sure enough, he spotted Jenn, walking side by side with that idiot from the library. What was his name? Casey?
This wasn’t happening.
Jenn adjusted the hat on her head. The strong breeze rushing in from the sea threatened at every opportunity to take it right off her head, and she couldn’t be more bothered by it.
Everything bothered her this morning. When the stewards had smiled too cheerily as she waited for the chance to disembark and go ashore, it had irked her. When the breeze had first seized her hat as she’d left the ship, nearly succeeding in stealing it from her, she’d been annoyed. When she’d been filing through the building claiming to be selling discount alcohol, cigarettes, tees, and tchotchkes, she’d resented those holding up the line from moving.
That’s why it surprised her when she wasn’t absolutely irate that Casey from the library appeared at her side, offered her an elbow and a bottle of water, and said, “Hey, I wanted to apologize.”
Wary, but not nearly as annoyed as she thought she’d be, she accepted the water bottle but left the elbow pointedly alone. “Oh, yeah? What for?”
Casey smiled and adjusted the strap of the bag he wore across his chest. “I wasn’t exactly at my finest in the library a few days ago.”
Jenn didn’t smile, careful to give no premature indication of an acceptance. “I haven’t heard an apology yet.”
“I—,” Casey broke off, filing through the gate with the others, falling into line behind Jenn as they went through, emerging into the already-too-warm-for-total-comfort light of the May day. “I was rude, inconsiderate of your time and space, and it wasn’t fair of me to just push myself on you like that. You clearly weren’t looking for a come-on, and I came on, anyway. I’m sorry.”
Jenn blinked. That was a far more self-aware apology than she’d expected. Had she been wrong about Casey?
“Where’s your friend?” Casey asked, obviously looking around for Trey.
“We’re taking some space today,” Jenn said briefly.
Casey grimaced loudly, hissing. “Ouch. Your call or his?”
“I’d really rather not talk about it.” Jenn kept her voice cool.
Casey lifted his hands in apology. “Sorry. Not my place: my bad.” He walked beside her quietly for a moment, then added, “You having a solo day, or would you be down for some company?”
Jenn glanced at Casey out of the corner of her eye. How old is he? She guessed he was probably close to ten years her junior. She’d be absolutely stunned if he was over 30. And yet, here he was, picking up on her for the second time in three days, in a crowded ship of singles and pairs ready to mingle, obviously interested. Jenn couldn’t help but be cautiously flattered.
“That depends. What are you hoping to get out of this, Mr. Casey?”
Casey shrugged those big shoulders, the huge muscles connecting his neck to his shoulders—were those called trapezoids? —already glistening with shimmery sweat under the Mexican sun. “Honestly? Good and good-looking company?”
“Nothing more than that, huh?” Jenn hummed doubtfully.
“Doesn’t need to be,” Casey shrugged again. “I mean, I wouldn’t hate it if it were more, but I’m not gonna push it to be, either.” He paused. “It can be whatever you want it to be.”
Casey, surprising her again with his self-awareness and respect. Unexpected, to say the least. She nodded toward the plaza, where several groups were beginning to form and gather around cruise and tour group employees holding printed signs for various destinations.
“You doing an excursion?”
“Not if you aren’t,” Casey replied.
“Look, kid.” Jenn turned to face the younger man. “Yes, I’m calling you kid. I still own CDs that are older than you.”
Casey’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t say anything. So, Jenn continued.
“I don’t need any company. I don’t know if you’re one of those guys who thinks a woman needs a man to take care of her and protect her. I don’t. So, please, if you’re hanging out for that, just do me a favor: don’t.”
Casey had flinched and folded his arms at one point. Jenn waited for him to blow up, to begin berating her or attacking back.
“If we don’t hurry, I think we’re going to miss our rides.” He nodded toward the first of the tour groups that had begun taking off, headed for the parking lot. “Last chance.”
“Screw it,” Jenn muttered under her breath. Out loud, she said, “One more for the taco tours!” She headed for the sepia, reddish-brown skinned man holding up the sign denoting “Taco Tours.”
She turned to look back at Casey. “I’m about to stuff my face with tacos. What are you doing?”
Casey smiled mischievously, one eyebrow lifting above the sunglasses. “I’m all about stuffing my face with taco.”
Despite herself, Jenn found her cheeks growing warm and her eyes dropping to the ground.
Casey didn’t say anything else, simply followed after her, holding up a single finger to the guide to indicate his intention. The man nodded in acknowledgment.
Whew! The morning was certainly beginning to warm up! Jenn started to wonder if perhaps not discouraging Casey from accompanying her was going to turn out to be a mistake.
The e-bike tour, culminating in an authentic, Mexican spread of tacos and other foods, was just what Jenn wanted.
For the last time, Jenn caught her floppy hat as it tried to sail away with the warm coastal breeze. She crushed the offending accessory into the bottom of the bike’s basket, even going so far as to adjust the complimentary bottle of water so that it rested on top.
Jenn pretended not to notice Casey’s side eye as she hiked up the mermaid skirt high around her thighs, nearly to her hips. She hadn't planned on cycling when she’d gotten dressed this morning. But the last-minute cancellation and switch required adaptability. Many of the other outings had already filled.
She strapped the helmet provided to them and cinched it tight, smiling as she pushed off to follow the guide.
The first thing she did was switch off the electric pedal-assist motor on her bicycle. Under the rising eye of the Yucatán sun, it didn’t take long at all for Jenn to begin to sweat heavily from the effort of pedaling.
The exertion felt good. Jenn had always preferred riding a bicycle for her cardio over running, or worse, a treadmill. An actual bicycle, outside, exposed to the actual elements and giving her something more to look at than the same four walls, gym bros, or even just the slowly transitioning scenery of running. With a bicycle, one could actually see something, cover some distance in a short amount of time.
Several minutes later, she was grateful that she didn’t have long hair; several of the other women on the tour who’d forgotten hair ties were battling the breeze and their own speed, unable to look very far in either direction, else their hair was blown straight into their mouths, noses, and eyes.
Jenn couldn’t help but smile as she pedaled harder, shooting out away from the group to catch up to their guide, a few yards ahead. Her thighs burned, and the sweat dripped down her neck and armpits. She felt electrically, deliciously alive.
Casey sped up to match her, riding quietly and nearly effortlessly at her side.
“You know, these work better if you turn them on,” Casey said, taking in her sweat-matted hair, glistening arms, and heavy breathing.
“Depends on what you want out of it,” Jenn puffed.
“If you wanted to swim, you picked the wrong outing.” Casey’s half smile told Jenn that he found himself funny, even if she didn’t.
“Oh, a funny guy!” Jenn said between breaths. The guide was leading them up a slight hill. Jenn heaved the bike side to side, standing up to give added strength to her downstrokes. They crested the hill and began coasting down the other side. Jenn took the opportunity to study the town around them.
The road was divided in two by a wide, tree-filled median. The trunks of the sprawling, brightly leaved trees were all painted a bright white. Bugs? Aesthetics? Jenn had seen the practice before but wasn’t certain of the actual purpose.
The parked cars on one side and the median on the other created a narrow roadway, forcing traffic to move at a smooth, comfortable (for a bike, anyway) clip.
They rode past numerous open-air bars and restaurants, catering to the throngs of cruisers from the nearby docks. The varying sounds of mariachi, pop, country, and slow, mournful Mexican ballads alternately swelled and faded as she coasted past.
Ahead of them, their guide, who’d introduced himself as Benjamin, was pulling up onto a sidewalk, coasting to a stop.
“You’re in pretty good shape!” Casey called out from immediately behind her as they followed Benjamin onto the sidewalk.
Jenn paused, waiting for a qualifier of some kind. “What? No ‘but’ coming?”
“No, the butt’s coming nicely,” Casey said.
Jenn turned to look at him blankly.
He tried to grin, but it faded when she didn’t laugh or smile. She didn’t even blink.
“No?” he asked with that obnoxiously cute half smile.
“Nope,” she said loudly, unclipping her helmet and hanging it from the handlebars.
The first stop was a historic Catholic Church. It was everything Jenn thought it would be: a crème-stuccoed building with arched stained glass windows, a beautiful mosaic tile floor, and a score of uncomfortable looking pews facing the cavernous rotunda at the front of the sanctuary.
Jenn hung back as Benjamin led the group up one of the side aisles of the church, whispering quietly as the other members filed past Jenn.
Standing with her hands on the back most pew, Jenn heard one young woman whisper, “Ew. Why so sweaty?”
Jenn glanced at her. Barely out of high school, by the look of her. Jenn chose to ignore the comment. Adolescence was a ruthless time for those who deviated from social norms and expectations outside the expected. The young woman’s crop top, high-waisted, booty-clinging shorts declared her solidly within social bounds.
Jenn took a look down at herself. Her low-cut yellow blouse was drenched with sweat, which also beaded up on her shoulders and ran down her neck into the shirt.
“For the record, I don’t think you look too bad,” Casey murmured, an arm’s length away from her, leaning down on the pew with both hands.
Jenn’s sigh through her nose was forced and quick. She spun to face Casey.
“Enough, boy. You can’t hang out with me if you’re going to be constantly hitting on me and trying to get in my pants.”
The half-smile was back. “You’re not wearing any pants.”
“I’m not wearing any panties, either.” Jenn watched Casey’s eyes widen and wander down over her generous hips and thighs. She saw his board shorts wiggle of their own accord. “Easy, tiger. All that means is that they’re not going to be dropping anytime soon, got it?”
A slight hiss pulled both of their attention. A black-robed clergyman stood staring at them, mouth agape. “This is a house of God!” he whispered in a thick Mexican accent, horrified.
Jenn frowned. “Sorry, Padre.” She retreated toward the entrance, making a cross on herself as she backed out of the entryway. She had no idea if that was what was actually done in a Catholic church. She’d seen people do it on shows and movies often enough. Couldn’t hurt, right?
Jenn found her bike and reached into the basket for the water bottle. She clapped her floppy hat, a bit the worse the wear for its trip in the basket, back onto her head, then uncapped the water bottle.
As she took a long dip from the thin, crinkly plastic vessel, she watched Casey emerge from the chapel. She took an inhale through her nose as he stepped through the door frame. Damn, he’s tall! He nearly had to duck to avoid hitting the top of the threshold.
Jenn had to check herself when her eyes automatically dropped back to his board shorts that she’d seen move earlier. Was it her imagination that she saw some independent swinging behind the fabric low on his thigh? Sweet Christmas! She glanced away, forcing herself to think of something— anything— else. Young monster cock was not what she wanted to think about right now.
She did, anyway. The memory of what it felt like to wrap her fingers around a flaccid, limp penis and feel it respond to her attention by standing to its own attention filled her with an ache that nearly made her groan aloud. Trey. It made her think of Trey. They’d been so close! Why hadn’t he just—
“You’re really…” Casey interrupted her simultaneously horny and angry thoughts. He paused, his stalled observation hanging in the air between them.
Jenn swallowed. “Hot?” She fanned herself to drive her point home.
“Well, yeah…” Enough with the sexy half-smile! Casey looked her up and down again to make his double meaning clear.
“But I was gonna say, ‘interesting.’”
Jenn paused, the water bottle halfway to her lips. Interesting? The hell does that mean?
“Oh, yeah?” she asked, taking another long pull of the bottle and nearly emptying it. “How’s that?”
Casey wordlessly handed her his own water bottle. Jenn accepted it without acknowledgment, making it clear that this unrequested favor was not significant enough to warrant any reciprocation. She dropped both bottles back into her basket.
“You don’t seem to care what anyone thinks about you, you put yourself out there for the world to look at, but not touch, yet, when that monk—,”
“Priest,” she corrected without thinking.
Casey shook his head and smiled. “—Priest shushed you, you retreated quicker than a cat on a hot tin roof!”
Jenn squinted behind her shades. A southern boy, huh? She wouldn’t have guessed that.
“The church and I have what you might refer to as a fraught relationship.”
“Yeah?” Casey waited.
Looking up at the front of the building before them, Jenn took a long breath and let it out slowly. When she turned away, it was with a whole lot of intention. “Casey, if this is going to last at all longer than it already has, there are two rules I’m going to need you to abide by and respect.”
Jenn unclipped the helmet, switching it with her sun hat. “First, I don’t talk about life off of the cruise. I’m here to forget about life for a while, not to hash and rehash old memories, mmkay?” She buckled the strap, careful not to pinch her neck in the device. “The second: nothing takes away from my bliss.”
“Got it.” Jenn noted with equal parts annoyance and eagerness that Casey was putting on his own helmet. “So, how thick are you and that guy from the library?”
Jenn squeezed the handlebars at Trey’s name. “You know, Casey, you’re really bad at this.”
Casey turned his bike to follow her as she stepped through the frame and started pedaling. “I just want to know whether I have a chance, is all!”
“You don’t have a chance, Casey. I feel like I’ve been pretty clear about that from the beginning.”
“None at all?”
“Absolutely none.”
“Why is that, exactly? Do you have history or something?”
Jenn turned to check the traffic and started pedaling circles around the block, waiting for Benjamin and the rest of the group to finish up inside the church and continue on.
“I’m done, Casey!” she called behind her, hearing his bicycle bell sound in her wake. “Company is all I’m interested in!”
To Jenn’s surprise, when they finally reached the next destination, Casey was still behind her and chose to walk quietly beside her across the sprawling plaza before the government buildings. And the next, the next, and the next. At every stop Casey was there, never saying a word more about life outside the cruise, Trey, or his chances with her. He simply pointed out photo opportunities, pushed new flavors of ice cream, offered to hold her shoes while she waded into the ocean.
When Benjamin signaled the last and final stop of the tour, Jenn invited Casey to sit beside her at the table as they sampled a variety of tacos.
Jenn closed her eyes as she took a bite of the taco in her hand. The meat was spiced to perfection, the flavor savory and deep in a way that made her jaw tingle as she bit down. A bit of the sauce dripped from her lip, tangy, spicy, and just enough hint of lime. She didn’t care. Why couldn’t food in the US taste like this? A quiet moan escaped her throat.
A quiet snigger reminded her she wasn’t alone.
“You doin’ okay over there?”
“Shut up, Casey.” She spoke the words before she realized it. She glanced at him to check his reaction. She relaxed when it became apparent that he wasn’t offended in the slightest. He was watching her, a few crumbs all that were left of his last serving.
“Have you tried the carne asada? This stuff is to die for!” Without thinking, Jenn turned and held out the taco.
“Just to be clear, you’re asking me to taste your taco?”
“Ugh, enough! Men.” Jenn dropped the unfinished taco on her plate, then stood and walked to her bicycle.
“Senora?” Benjamin called out. “Leaving already?”
“Yes, thank you for the tour, Benjamin. Everything was wonderful.” Jenn pulled a twenty out of her skirt pocket. “For you.”
The young man smiled. “Gracias, Senora.”
Jenn pulled the note back temporarily as she had a sudden thought. “It’s Senorita, Benjamin.” She winked.
Benjamin grinned. “Of course, senorita. Lo siento.”
“Never miss an opportunity to make a woman feel young and beautiful without being creepy, and you’ll always find yourself with plenty of these,” she said quietly, buckling her helmet with her free hand.
“Si. Gracias, senorita.” Benjamin reached out to take the bill tentatively. Jenn released it.
“Hang on, I’ll come with you!” Casey called out, pushing his chair in.
“Good luck,” Jenn said, switching on the power to her electric motor. She raced away, pedaling hard and zipping through the streets toward the ship and the docks.