Welcoming Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 1)

by Lily Harper Hart

  “I don’t like mornings,” Quinn said. “I always try to be congenial, though.”

  This time Rowan’s snort was derisive. “I’ve yet to see you be congenial once. You’ve answered questions and even went out of your way to ask me how my day was going yesterday. You were hardly friendly, though.”

  “I didn’t say I was friendly,” Quinn clarified. “I said that I was congenial. I work overtime to be polite. I’m not here to make friends, though.”

  “That’s probably a good thing,” Rowan said. “Most friends don’t introduce someone and say ‘you’ll like him because he’s congenial.’”

  Quinn didn’t want to laugh. Most of the time when he did it sounded fake and forced, which it was. He couldn’t help himself this time, though. “I guess you have a point,” he conceded. “I’ll work on being friendlier.”

  “That would be delightful,” Rowan said, trudging up the stairs.

  The duo remained silent until they hit the main floor and once there Rowan offered Quinn a half wave before moving in the direction of the external door. “I’ll see you later. I’m looking forward to the friendly portion of the day.”

  Quinn watched her for a moment, strangely reluctant to separate from her. He told himself it was because he was suspicious of her activity the previous night – and that was part of it – but he was also curious about the woman herself. “Don’t you think you should have breakfast first?”

  Rowan stilled, surprised. “I … thought I should get to work.”

  “The owner isn’t a slave driver,” he said. “In fact, he recommends a full breakfast before starting the day. You should probably get some fuel in you if you’re going to spend hours out in the sun. You need to keep hydrated, too.”

  Quinn internally chastised himself the second the words left his mouth. You need to keep hydrated? Could he be any lamer?

  Rowan’s eyes darted between Quinn and the door and Quinn could practically see the gears working in her brain. Finally she heaved out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I’ll get breakfast. Then I have work to do.”

  “Then everyone has work to do,” Quinn said, extending his arm and gesturing toward the employee mess hall. “After you, Miss Gray.”

  Rowan made a face. “Is this you being friendly?”

  Quinn shrugged. “That depends. Do you think I’m being friendly?”

  “I think you’re being creepy,” Rowan replied, moving in front of him. “If this is you being friendly, well, you need to take classes or something. If this is you trying to make people believe they’re stuck in a horror novel, well, good job.”

  Quinn bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing a second time. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “SO, UM, tell me about yourself.”

  Rowan nervously munched on a slice of kiwi ten minutes later and curiously watched Quinn as he poured a mountain of ketchup onto his hash browns. He then proceeded to mix the hash browns and ketchup concoction with his eggs, not stopping until everything on his plate was red. The entire thing was enough to force Rowan to make a face.

  “There’s not much to tell,” Quinn said, digging into his breakfast. “I grew up in Minnesota, joined the Marines right out of high school, retired a few months ago, and ended up here.”

  “Uh-huh.” Rowan’s stomach turned. “Did you learn to eat like that in the military?”

  Quinn glanced at his plate and shrugged. “I like ketchup.”

  “I like ketchup, too,” Rowan said. “I like it on fries and burgers mostly, though. I don’t think it belongs on eggs.”

  “I didn’t realize you were a food Nazi,” Quinn said. “I guess I’ll file that away to think about later.”

  Rowan’s eyebrows flew up her forehead. Later? Was he spending a lot of time thinking about her? “I … didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “Kind of like you didn’t mean to smack me with your camera, right?” Quinn’s eyes twinkled as he shook his head. “It’s fine. I’m well aware that most people think putting ketchup on eggs is gross. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. My father did it, in fact. It’s just a habit.”

  “It’s okay,” Rowan said hurriedly, hoping she hadn’t offended the man. “I like dipping my toast in my eggs and then mashing the hash browns and egg whites together when I’m done. It has to be done in that order. That’s a habit of mine.”

  “A lot of people do that, though,” Quinn pointed out, his dark eyes busy as they roamed the angles of Rowan’s face. “You shouldn’t be picking on other people’s food choices when you drink tomato juice, if you ask me. Tomato juice is way grosser than eggs and ketchup.”

  Rowan offered Quinn an exaggerated eye roll. “I’ll have you know that tomato juice is both delicious and healthy. It’s good for you. You should try it some time.”

  “I’ll pass,” Quinn said dryly. “I’m an orange juice and coffee guy. Sometimes we had to drink tomato juice when we were enlisted and it was always gross.”

  “I thought the motto of the Marines was ‘if you’re hungry, you’ll eat,’” Rowan teased, smirking.

  “It kind of is,” Quinn conceded, using his napkin to wipe the corners of his mouth as he watched Rowan pour a mountain of syrup onto her pancakes. “Are you trying to drown those things or something?”

  Rowan huffed out an irritated sigh. “I happen to like syrup. Sue me.”

  “At least it’s not a weird kind of syrup,” Quinn said, twirling his fork in his hash browns. “Perhaps we shouldn’t talk about food. It seems to make both of us territorial and I’m working overtime to be friendly these days.”

  “That sounds like a splendid idea,” Rowan said, focusing on her plate and letting the conversation lapse.

  For a few minutes, the only sound that could be heard in the room was that of flatware clinking against plates. Neither one of them was comfortable with the silence, though, and they both tried to fill it at the same time.

  “Why did you join the military?”

  “Why were you so fixated on that group of girls yesterday?”

  Rowan widened her eyes when she registered Quinn’s question. “I … what?”

  Quinn had no intention of letting the Bounding Storm’s newest employee skirt the question. “Why were you so fixated on that group of young girls yesterday?” he repeated. “Did they say something to you?”

  “No. Of course not.” Rowan was flummoxed. “I wasn’t fixated on them. I took photos of everyone. If you don’t believe me, check the online gallery. I was very busy.”

  “You were very busy,” Quinn agreed, bobbing his head. “You took twice as many photos as the guy who had the job before you. That doesn’t mean you weren’t fixated on that group of girls. I watched you. I know what I saw.”

  Rowan barked out an uneasy laugh. “You watched me? Why?”

  “Because I found your actions intriguing,” Quinn replied. That was only partially true, but he had no intention of admitting that to her. Even he couldn’t understand the other half of his fascination where she was concerned. “I watched you for hours. You took plenty of photos, but you were always in the general vicinity of those girls.

  “Now, I talked to those girls, and they seem genuinely nice and I don’t think they’re going to cause a lot of trouble,” he continued. “I think there will be some drinking mishaps, which isn’t something new when you’re dealing with teenagers having freedom for the first time, but otherwise I think they’ll be harmless.”

  “I didn’t say they wouldn’t be harmless,” Rowan protested. “In fact, I didn’t bring them up at all. I think you’re imagining things.”

  “Am I?” Quinn wasn’t convinced. “It’s funny that you seem to know exactly what group of girls I’m talking about. If you weren’t watching them, I would think you would ask which group of girls I was referring to.”

  Rowan’s cheeks flooded with color. “I … .” She was caught. They both knew it.

  “Why are you so interested in them?” Quinn asked, his eyes keen. “I want to kn
ow.”

  Rowan opened her mouth to answer. She had no idea what was on the tip of her tongue – her mouth often got ahead of her brain – but she didn’t get the chance because Sally picked that moment to approach their table. Rowan was secretly relieved, but the feeling only lasted a few seconds because the expression on the agreeable restaurant manager’s face was somber.

  “What’s wrong?” Quinn asked, instantly alert.

  “Michael is trying to find you,” Sally answered. “We have a missing guest.”

  Quinn got to his feet. “Are you sure? Whenever this happens we almost always find the missing person sleeping it off on a deck chair.”

  “We’re fairly certain,” Sally said. “It’s a young girl. She went back to her room with her three friends last night and yet when they woke up she was gone.”

  Rowan’s heart sank at the news. Four girls? One of them was missing? She knew without asking which group they were dealing with. “What’s the protocol here?” she asked, shakily getting to her feet.

  “The protocol is that we organize a search and don’t panic,” Quinn answered. “I’m in charge here. I’ll handle it. I’m sure there’s no reason to get worked up. We’ll probably find the girl in less than an hour.”

  Rowan was hopeful, but she didn’t believe that for a second. “I’ll help.”

  6

  Six

  “You don’t have to come. This isn’t your job.” Quinn was agitated as he moved toward the guest elevator. “If you have something else to do … .”

  “I have plenty other things to do,” Rowan said. “This is more important, though. I can help.” What she wasn’t saying was that she needed to know which one of the girls was missing. There wasn’t much she could do about it now, but guilt and regret would paralyze her no matter what. She had to focus on something.

  “You’re not trained for this, though,” Quinn pointed out, pushing the button for the fourth floor and shifting his eyes to Rowan. A guest moved to join them in the elevator, but something about Quinn’s demeanor must’ve forced the man to change his mind because he quickly averted his eyes and pretended to stare at the ornate ceiling. “You should go to the deck and take photos. That’s your job.”

  It wasn’t the time for a gender lesson, but Rowan couldn’t seem to help herself. “I don’t consider helping others to be less important than taking photos. As for not being trained … um … this is a cruise ship. It’s hardly a warzone. I think I can take care of myself.”

  Quinn rolled his eyes as the elevator doors shut. “I wasn’t trying to put you in your place or anything, if that’s what you think. I was merely stating that this isn’t your job.”

  “You were absolutely trying to put me in my place,” Rowan shot back. “You think because you’re ex-military that you can boss everyone around and be superior. I’m not an idiot.”

  The elevator door dinged as it opened, but Quinn cut off Rowan’s avenue of escape, using his chest to box her in and invade her personal space before she could huff out an indignant complaint. “I’m not trying to put you in your place,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t think I’m superior. If I’ve given you that impression … .”

  Rowan licked her lips, drawing Quinn’s attention to her pretty mouth as she worked overtime to control her temper. “What about the bossy part?”

  The corners of Quinn’s mouth tipped up. “I may be a bit bossy,” he conceded. “I’m going to guess you’re a little bossy, too, though. You seem to recognize it in others pretty easily, which means you suffer from it, too.”

  “I am hardly bossy.” Rowan attempted to cross her arms over her chest in a defiant manner, but Quinn was so close she couldn’t manage the feat. He was too solid, his chest a huge mass of muscles. For a brief moment all she could think was that she wanted to see under his shirt. Those muscles had to be impressive. Then she reminded herself where she was and what they were supposed to be doing and chided her libido. It would only be for scientific purposes, of course, she told herself. She didn’t care for any other reason. “I happen to be a nice person.”

  Despite the serious situation, Quinn couldn’t help but smirk. “I don’t think being bossy means you’re not a nice person. I do think you’re bossy, though. That’s why you don’t like it when I’m bossy.”

  “What about you? How would you like it if I bossed you around?” Rowan challenged.

  Quinn shrugged. “Would you be naked when you were doing it?” Even as the words rolled off his tongue Quinn realized he was making a mistake. He hadn’t meant to flirt with the woman. She was attractive, he would never deny that. She wasn’t part of his future plans, though, and he never flirted out of turn. He made a point of it. There was something about her, though, and he enjoyed messing with her head.

  Rowan’s cheeks colored and she quickly averted her gaze. “I … feel really uncomfortable.”

  Quinn stilled. “That was meant as a joke,” he said, taking a step back and allowing the clearly upset woman to catch her breath. “I … that was out of line.”

  “It’s fine.” Rowan refused to make eye contact.

  “It’s not even remotely fine,” Quinn said. “I spent a lot of time in the military and we made inappropriate jokes all of the time to ease the tension. I forgot where I was for a second.” It was a lame excuse – and Quinn knew it was a lie – but he could think of nothing else to say.

  “Are you saying I remind you of one of your military buddies?” Rowan challenged. “I’m not sure how to feel about that. Is it my hips?”

  Quinn opened his mouth to respond, a firm denial and apology on his lips. Then he saw the twinkle in her eyes and realized she was teasing him. A strange warmth spread throughout his chest as he stared at her, his gaze locking with hers. “I think your hips are fine,” he said after a beat. He knew he was flirting this time and yet couldn’t seem to stop himself. “I would have to see you in the shower to be sure, though.”

  Rowan gripped her hands together as she realized he was on to her ruse. “I … .”

  Quinn reasserted control over the situation. “We’ll have to talk about that later,” he said, his smile mischievous. “Right now we need to get information on a missing girl. Apparently that’s our job for the day.” He purposely stressed the word “our” and enjoyed the way Rowan’s cheeks pinked up. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

  “I … me, too.” Rowan wasn’t a natural flirt and she knew her response was dull, but she had no idea how to polish it to acceptable levels in such a limited time frame. “Do you know where we’re going?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.” Quinn realized the question – and his answer – had double meanings.

  “You haven’t decided what?” Rowan was confused.

  “I … we’re going toward the end of the hallway,” Quinn said, returning to the problem at hand. “I’m sure the girl just wandered away … maybe met up with a guy or something … and we’ll find her within the hour.”

  Rowan wasn’t convinced the outcome would be that happy, but she plastered an approving smile on her face. “You’re the expert. Lead the way.”

  Quinn shook his head as he regarded her. “You’re kind of all over the place, aren’t you? You’re clumsy at walking and talking.”

  Rowan made a face. “Thank you for pointing that out. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through the day without your wonderful insight.”

  “I didn’t say it was a bad thing … or I didn’t like it,” Quinn pointed out. “You’re just … different.” His eyes were troubled as they looked her over. “You’re very different.”

  “So are you,” Rowan said. “That doesn’t change the fact that we have a missing girl, though. We can talk about how different we are later.”

  Quinn bobbed his head and returned to business. “I’m looking forward to it,” he muttered. Strangely enough, although he would never admit it out loud, he found that was the truth. He was completely losing his focus … which wasn’t good.

  “THA
NK GOD you’re here!”

  Kylie took one look at Quinn and shoved her way through the two porters watching the open door and threw her arms around his neck.

  Quinn’s cheeks colored and he darted a quick look in Rowan’s direction. He was embarrassed by the girl’s overt show of affection, but Rowan merely looked amused by his discomfort. “I … we need to know what’s going on.”

  Quinn gently disengaged himself from Kylie, which the girl clearly didn’t like if her expression was to be believed, and glanced around the room. He recognized the other two girls, but he hadn’t taken the time to learn their names because he didn’t want to encourage them. “Who is missing?”

  Rowan answered almost immediately. “Jessica.”

  Hayley bobbed her blonde head up and down. “We all came back to the room together last night and went straight to bed, but when we woke up she was gone.”

  Quinn narrowed his eyes as focused on Rowan. “How did you know it was her?”

  Now it was Rowan’s turn to be uncomfortable. “I … met them when I was taking their photos. I remembered them.”

  “That’s because we’re memorable.” Kylie had an innocent expression on her face but her eyes were somehow predatory. “Jessica was the least memorable of all, though. Quinn here obviously doesn’t remember her.”

  Rowan tilted her head to the side, surprised. Now was not the time to be in competition – whether overt or lackadaisical – with someone who was supposed to be considered a friend. “I think Quinn has his hands full with the thousands of other people on the ship,” she supplied. “He can’t possibly be expected to remember everyone.”

  Quinn shot Rowan a grateful look, but he was still unnerved by the fact that Rowan recognized which girl was missing right away. “Yes, it’s a packed cruise,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I need you guys to go over things from the beginning, though. I need to know what you did last night.”

  “We just hung out,” Kara offered. “We were at that tiki bar on the deck. I wanted to go to the main bar, but Kylie wanted to be outside.”