by ANDREA SMITH
“Gina for Chrissake!”
Tristan lifted Gina off of Caroline with one arm, placing her out of reach. Landon was there now, pulling Caroline up from the floor. Caroline was whining and sputtering incoherently. She told Landon she felt like she was going to throw up.
Tristan still had his arm around Gina, trying to soothe her.
“I’m sick and tired of that bitch spewing hatefulness at everyone, Tristan. Someone needs to kick her ass!” Gina was straining against Tristan’s strong hold on her.
“Calm down, babe. Let me get you upstairs and cleaned up.”
Tristan led Gina who was covered with red merlot wine out of the room towards the stairs. She was still going off about Caroline to him. He was trying to calm her anger with his soft, reasonable voice.
Landon had Caroline by the arm, asking Thatcher to fetch their coats so that they could depart. I breathed a sigh of relief that they were leaving.
I turned my attention to Trey. “I'm not attending any further family functions where Caroline's invited. Do you want to tell your mother or shall I?”
“I’ll handle it,” he said, pulling me against him as we made our way over to where my father and Brenda were playing with Preston.
We spent the rest of what remained an uneventful evening in their company. My father was leaving the following morning for Baton Rouge. I told him that I'd see him at Christmas. He hugged me tightly and said he'd be in touch after Trey and I returned from our cruise.
He made me promise that I'd try my best to relax and put everything else out of my mind during our trip. Despite the fact that I was still trying to digest the latest information he'd shared with me, I promised him I would.
CHAPTER 20
Trey and I left on our cruise the Monday after Thanksgiving. We'd arranged a schedule for Preston who'd be spending some time with Gina and Reese. Jean was going to take a few days off to visit her daughter.
Gina had insisted on taking me shopping for ‘cruise wear’ which I discovered consisted of buying five different bikinis; an assortment of cover-ups, silk nighties, provocative cocktail dresses with several different pairs of ‘fuck me’ heels and sandals. I'd had to beg her to let me buy some shorts and capri pants with regular cotton tees.
“For Chrissake Trey sees you in that shit all of the time. This is supposed to be a sexy and romantic excursion for you two.”
“I know, Gina, but I want to be comfortable too, you know? I mean we aren’t going to be in the stateroom humping like rabbits the whole time.”
“I should think not,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “When you go ashore you need to shop, of course.”
I'd shared with Gina a portion of the information my dad had given me on Thanksgiving.
“Say no more; I know the drill. I'll keep a vigilant eye on her at all times. Tristan will as well. No need for worry, got it?”
“Thanks,” I said giving her a smile, “and for the record, I personally loved it when you whipped Caroline’s skinny ass.”
We'd both dissolved into a fit of giggles over that one. Tristan hadn’t been mad at Gina at all. She told me he'd told her it was about time someone had put the skinny bitch in her place. He said he was glad that she'd been the one to do it.
Trey and I'd taken a flight from Atlanta to New Orleans which was the port of departure for our cruise ship.
Our stateroom was lovely. We had a bedroom, sitting room and a balcony that looked out over the common area where one of the swimming pools was located. Our bathroom was elegant with a heart shaped Jacuzzi tub.
I'd filled Trey in on the way home from Bristol about the news my father had given me. Like my dad, he insisted I put all fear and worries aside; there was likely nothing to worry about anyway he'd insisted.
Our ship had departed on time and we'd be on the water for two days until we hit the port of Montego Bay, Jamaica. We'd have one day and one night there before the ship departed for Grand Cayman.
The salt air felt fresh and soothing to my face. I'd put on one of the skimpy bikinis that Gina had insisted was made for me. I was stretched out on a sun lounge on the deck below our stateroom. I'd downloaded some books onto my iPad and was reading a very delicious chick-lit novel at the moment.
Trey was supposed to be changing and joining me on the empty sun chair next to me but that'd been more than thirty minutes ago. Where the hell was he?
There were only three other couples on the deck around this pool. We'd booked our suite on one of the semi-private decks. There were a total of ten suites that shared this particular common area which consisted of the pool, hot-tub Jacuzzi, and sauna room.
There was a Tiki bar between our common area and the adjoining one that was shared. There were tables with beach umbrellas placed under the winding wrought-iron circular staircases that led up to the private balcony for each suite.
I perched my sunglasses on top of my head leaning over to grab the bottle of sunscreen on the table next to me. I poured a few drops onto my fingers and massaged it over my nose and forehead. I saw Trey as he approached now; he was wearing a definite scowl on his face. What the hell could've pissed him off in the last half hour?
“Hey baby,” I greeted him. “I’ve missed you.”
He took his place on the lounge next to me, tugging his shirt up over his head. I admired his gorgeous pecks and firm, flat belly.
“Sorry honey,” he said, putting his Ray bans on and settling back against the chair. “I was trying to sign onto to my laptop and experienced some technical difficulties.”
“Trey - I thought we agreed this wasn't to be a ‘working’ vacation?”
“I wasn’t really going to be working,” he explained. “I just wanted to pull up some files to review on a case coming up that I’m working on with Pierce.”
“Hmm. Sounds like work to me.”
I rolled over onto my stomach and reached back untying the string on my top so I would avoid having tan lines on my back. One of the cocktail dresses I brought was backless.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to get a bit of a tan.”
“I can see that,” he replied very irritated. “How do you intend to get your top fastened back before you roll over?”
“I’ll manage.”
“You'll likely manage to give everyone else out here a show,” he admonished. “This isn't a private deck.”
“Trey, if you're going to be snippy with me then why not go back inside and do some work?”
“I'm not being snippy. I'd just prefer that the other men out here not get a glimpse of my wife’s naked breasts.”
I raised my sunglasses up to peer over at him. He definitely had a pout thing going on. I decided it was more than simply his concern about my bikini top not getting fastened up properly before I rolled back over.
“What is it, Trey?”
He looked over at me from behind his sunglasses which shielded my ability to see his eyes and properly assess his mood.
“Someone changed the password on my computer. I can’t get into any of my files, or even into my email.”
“What?” I immediately sat up to look at him and my top stayed put on the lounge.
“Jesus Christ, Tylar,” he hissed, jumping up and grabbing his tee shirt and tossing it to me. “Cover yourself up. I knew this would happen.”
I pulled the tee shirt on over my head glancing around to see a couple of the guys across the pool gawking.
“Are you happy?”
“Oh whatever,” I replied, turning my attention back to my husband. “Why would someone change your password?”
“Probably to fuck with me.”
“Amber?”
“That'd be my guess, though I couldn't prove it since everyone at the firm knows of my generic passwords. It’s my own damn fault.”
“Trey please, honey? Let’s not let it ruin our vacation.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have even brought it up. Here, let me help you fasten your top b
ack on and let’s get into the pool.”
Trey and I swam for a while in the crystal clear pool. We sat back on our lounges and sipped margaritas in the sun. It was a gloriously beautiful afternoon.
We rubbed sunscreen on each other and I read some of the more steamy parts of my novel to him. He seemed genuinely interested in the book which surprised me until I noticed his erection.
“Really, Trey?”
“Christ Tylar,” he said with a laugh, “I’m a man aren’t I? That book leaves little to the imagination. What'd you expect?”
“Would you prefer that I read something else to you?”
“I'd prefer retiring to our suite for a nap, Mrs. Sinclair.”
I was feeling warm and giddy from the margaritas and the novel.
“We probably should get out of the sun for a while,” I commented, gathering my things. Trey was right behind me as we hurried up the winding staircase to the balcony door of our suite.
We spent a delicious rest of the afternoon in our suite, exploring and re-exploring each other. We fell asleep entwined in each other’s arms.
When Trey and I were dressing for dinner, I noticed I'd gotten a healthy glow from my earlier sunbathing. The afternoon fuckfest Trey and I'd enjoyed hadn’t hurt either.
I pulled on my emerald green satin cocktail dress. The skirt tapered to just above my knees. It was strapless with a built in push-up bra. The back gathered into a bustle just above my butt. Gina had talked me into it saying that she'd seen Eva Longoria wear almost this very same dress the prior year walking the red carpet at the Golden Globe awards.
I accented it with my new four-inch black heels that were opened toe with an ankle strap; and black pearl earrings and necklace. I'd flat ironed my hair which was now almost to my shoulders again. Trey'd forbidden me (under threat of a sound spanking) to cut it again.
He came up behind me looking resplendent in his summer suit and tie; he placed his arms around me his hands cupping my breasts as he lowered his lips to softly kiss the column of my neck.
“Have I told you how absolutely scrumptious you look, Mrs. Sinclair?”
I got the shivers when I felt his warm breath against my skin and his expert fingers bringing my nipples to attention.
“You do a very nice job of appreciating me, Mr. Sinclair,” I said with a smile leaning back against him. “I certainly have no complaints on that front.”
Hand in hand Trey and I made our way to the Captain’s dining table on the ‘Promenade’ deck. It was an extremely long table that seated twelve other couples.
Trey and I were seated next to a couple from southern Ohio. The woman who introduced herself as Megan Parks appeared to be in her forties. She was a ‘textbook’ Cougar according to Trey’s whispered comments to me as we waited for our second course.
Her ‘traveling companion,’ happened to be a very tall and slender man who didn’t look to be thirty yet. His name was Gordon Rizzo. It amused Trey and me to watch Gordon as he fell all over himself to ‘fetch’ her this or ‘grab’ her that. He was always at her beck and call.
Over dinner she mentioned she was Gordon’s boss’s boss which was why they were traveling out of the country.
“It just wouldn’t do for us to be out in the open about our relationship,” she explained. “The company has a very stringent fraternization policy.”
When she found out what Trey’s line of work was as far as litigating class action suits for the plaintiff, it looked like Megan had swallowed her sixth helping of calamari without chewing it.
She immediately started coughing and gagging; Gordon was pounding on her back laughing, not quite sure if she was really choking or simply being overly dramatic.’ I was fairly certain the attraction Megan had for Gordon had nothing to do with his intellectual capacity.
After dinner everyone prepared for the entertainment. Trey and I'd been drinking some margaritas and the band was setting up to start playing.
“Oh, I just love to dance,” Megan said enthusiastically. “I’ve been trying to shed a few pounds and I find that dancing -among other things - is a great way to burn calories. Tylar, Gordon doesn’t like to dance. Would you mind if I cut the rug with Trey for a song or two?”
Cut what??
I looked at Trey for help.
“She means dance,” he replied, rolling his eyes.
“Actually Megan, Trey and I make it a rule never to dance with anyone other than each other.”
She smiled, shaking her long mane of permed curls. Her hair looked as if she was attempting to imitate the character of Carrie Bradshaw from ‘Sex and the City,’ all those years ago. Her body however was not following suit.
As she stood up to insist poor Gordon take her out onto the dance floor, I couldn’t help but notice her polyester slacks were extremely tight around her hips and below. She'd a major ‘camel toe’ going on.
Damn - that looked downright uncomfortable. I found myself squirming in my own seat imagining how uncomfortable she had to be with her ‘lip-huggers.’
Trey finally nudged me noticing that I was staring at her crotch with a look of horror on my face. I immediately raised my eyes to look out onto the dance floor as she'd finally convinced Gordon to dance with her. They moved to the dance floor and out of earshot.
“Dear God Trey, did you see those pants of hers?”
“It was kind of hard to miss, Tylar,” he said smirking. “Do you want to dance?”
“It might be more fun watching,” I replied giggling.
Trey ordered another round of margaritas for us and we turned our attention back to the dance floor. It didn’t take long to spot Megan and Gordon out under the silver ball.
He had to be six and a half feet tall. He towered amongst everyone else out there. They seemed to be the center of attention with the rest of the people at our table. The sound of everyone's snickering floated down to our end of the table.
I felt for both of them. Their lack of dance skills was obvious to everyone apart from them. The song was a fast tune; Megan was doing some old dance flailing her arms up and down called ‘the Monkey.’ Her arm waddle said it all.
Trey and I were hard pressed to contain our laughter as was the case with the others at our table. It made for some great entertainment. As the song ended, we realized Megan and Gordon were making their return to the table. I wasn’t anxious to continue having to socialize with them.
“Trey - can we go for a walk on the deck or something?” I asked.
“Let’s do,” he replied, anxious to be rid of our dinner partners for this evening.
We carried our margaritas with us as we went up onto the port side of the deck. It was a beautiful evening for cruising. The moon was out and the stars seemed brighter reflecting off of the ocean than when on land. The sea breeze gently blew across our hair caressing our skin with a salty fragrance.
The ship’s photographer came up to us as we were leaning against the rail looking out over the water. He asked if we would like to have our picture taken. We did. Trey put his arm around me as we turned for the picture. We gave the photographer the number of our suite. All photos were available to be picked up at the conclusion of the cruise.
“It's so beautiful out here this evening,” I said. “I'm so happy we did this.”
“Me too, baby,” he said, pulling me against him. He lowered his face, his lips softly kissing my forehead; his hand brushed through my hair. I could feel his strong heartbeat against me.
“Are you missing Preston?” Trey asked.
“I’ve thought about her a few times, but I’m not worried or anxious about her. I know she's safe and I’m happy that it’s just you and me right now.”
“Good,” he replied. “I love you so much, Tylar. I’m sorry that I’ve taken you for granted along the way. I want things to be different going forward with us.”
“What do you mean, Trey?”
“I want to be married to you; not my career. I can see that I’ve missed out on a lot by being
so wrapped up in the firm.”
“It’s your job; I understand that. It’s what you do.”
“It doesn’t have to be what I do forever, though.”
I looked up at Trey. I saw that he'd done some serious thinking about this. I wasn’t sure where he was going with it; I wasn’t sure if he had a plan.
“You love the law. It’s your passion. What would you do if you didn’t practice?”