by Shelby Gates
“Where did you go?”
“Just out. Had a couple of beers. Watched some sports. Nothing exciting.”
His calm and unwillingness to engage unnerved her. “You didn’t have to leave like that.”
He finally looked at her. “Yeah, I did. You were uncomfortable. I didn’t want you to be.”
“Well, I would’ve gotten over it in about twenty minutes.”
“I didn’t know that. I didn’t want to make it worse.”
She sighed, exasperated. “You weren’t making anything worse, Griffin. I was just…I don’t know. I was just…”
“Claire, you don’t have to explain anything to me,” he said. “I’m sorry I got carried away last night. I overstepped my bounds and I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t overstep anything!” she cried. “I kissed you! Do you not even remember?”
“Of course I remember,” he said, frowning. “But I was the one running my mouth, telling you how I felt. I didn’t mean to smother you with all that. So, I thought I should give you space.”
She rolled her eyes. Just like him. Giving her more than what she needed. Assuming he knew what she wanted. Apologizing for something he hadn’t even done.
“Griffin, I…”
The loudest screeching she’d ever heard in her life interrupted her. She stuck her fingers in her ears, barely blocking out the high pitched pulse that filled the room.
Griffin winced on the bed, then pointed at the ceiling. “Fire alarm.”
She looked up. The small red bulb was blinking furiously.
A calm voice came over the loudspeaker, asking all passengers on their deck to leave their rooms and move to a higher deck.
“What’s going on?” she yelled. “Oh my God! Are we sinking?”
Griffin smirked and slid off the bed. “Probably.”
“What??”
“Put your shoes on and let’s go!”
She slipped on her flip-flops and he led her out the door, his hand on her elbow as she hobbled along. The piercing alarm was even louder in the hallway and dozens of people had already emerged from their rooms in the same stage of confusion. Several of the ship’s personnel were stationed in the halls, directing them out, smiling and telling them it was going to be okay.
“We are totally sinking, aren’t we?” she yelled in Griffin’s ear as they made their way up a stairwell.
He nodded. “Probably on fire, too.”
She smacked him in the shoulder. She knew something terrible was going to happen on this stupid cruise. She’d known it even before they’d lost her reservation. And now she’d probably get up to the deck to find out that the life preservers were gone and sharks were waiting in the water.
They climbed several more sets of stairs, Claire’s almost-healed ankle throbbing in protest. Finally, the screeching began to subside. The ship personnel guided them outside of the stairwell and to one of the outdoor upper decks. Clair looked around, shading her eyes from the sun. The ship seemed to be upright. She didn’t see or smell smoke. She looked over the railing, but didn’t spot any ominous fins.
The loudspeaker crackled again and the ship’s captain introduced himself and apologized for the fire alarm. They listened as he explained that even though it looked like a malfunction, they were going to have to keep that deck clear until everything checked out, which might take several hours.
Claire collapsed in an empty deck chair. “Several hours?” she repeated.
Griffin shrugged.
“No way,” a voice said behind Griffin. “Griffin and Claire! Like old times!”
Griffin turned and Claire saw Luke Motohari behind him, grinning and shaking his head.
“Hey, Luke,” Griffin said, shaking hands with him. “Good to see you.”
“Oh, man. It’s good to see you,” he said. He held up a hand. “Hi Claire.”
Claire waved and tried to smile. “Hey, Luke.”
“Man, I heard you guys were together still, but I couldn’t believe it and hadn’t seen you guys until right now,” he said in a rush of words. “And now this fire drill. Crazy, right?”
Griffin glanced at me, then back at Luke. “Yeah. Crazy.”
Luke stared at Claire, grinning, and she cringed. She knew what was coming.
“Hey, do you remember the time the fire alarm got pulled senior year?” Luke asked, still grinning.
Yep. She’d sensed correctly.
“Uh-huh,” she said.
“Griffin you remember?”
“Can’t say that I do.”
Luke threw his head back, laughing maniacally. “Oh, man! Was after lunch one day. They had just mopped the senior hall for some reason and then someone pulled the alarm. I don’t even remember who it was. But Claire was the first one out of class and she took a flyer on the wet floor.”
A flyer was a kind way of putting it. She had been the first one out the door, startled by the alarm. Her arms were full of books and she’d gone flying as soon as her feet hit the floor. The books flew everywhere, but her main concern was that her skirt had flown up, too, and as she slid down the hallway, she frantically tried to keep it from exposing her ass to the world.
Luke stood there for a few more minutes, making small talk with Griffin before he wandered off into the crowd. Servers were now coming around with platters full of snacks and free drinks.
“Luke was always kind of a loudmouth,” Griffin said, leaning against the railing.
“And I was always kind of a disaster,” Claire said. “Always good to be reminded of that.”
Griffin rolled his eyes and laughed. “Right.”
“I’m serious,” she said. “I was a walking disaster. Probably why I thought you’d never be interested in me.”
He stared at her for a long moment and she couldn’t read his expression. Probably because his eyes still managed to awaken the butterflies that lived in her stomach.
“What did you see in me?” she said, shaking her head. “I mean, I think I was a bigger basket case then than I am now. And that is seriously saying something. What the hell did you see in me?”
He tilted his head to the side, studying her. It both thrilled her and made her uncomfortable, like he was looking right into her.
“I saw you, Claire,” he finally said. “That was all. Just you. Everything about you. And the entire package was everything I wanted. I didn’t want it altered or changed one bit. I just saw…you.”
If she hadn’t thought there was a chance that she might knock him overboard, she would’ve launched herself into his arms right at that moment. It didn’t erase the hurt of him breaking up with her or the doubt she still harbored, but no one had ever said anything like that to her and meant it.
And in her heart, she knew he meant it.
“Thank you,” she said. “For feeling that way about me.”
“I always have, Claire. It’s never gone away.”
Gingerly, she stood up and slid in close to him against the railing. She just wanted to be near him.
“We’ve got one night left on the ship,” he said, his eyes on the horizon.
She sighed. “I know.”
“I’d like to do something special. With you. If you want.”
She wanted. “Okay. What?”
He turned to her. “Do you trust me?”
She hesitated, then nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “Wear the other dress.”
“What?”
“You brought two dresses,” he said. “Wear the other dress tonight. I’ll come pick you up.”
“We share the same room,” she reminded him.
“Yeah, I’m gonna get out and come pick you up,” he said. “But wear the other dress.”
“For what?”
“I’ll tell you when I pick you up,” he said, smiling. “But will you wear the dress?”
Her heart pounded inside her chest as she nodded yes.
TWENTY-TWO
Griffin pulled at his bow tie, trying to give himself just
a little more room in between his neck and his shirt collar.
He stood in front of the full-length mirror and took stock. He hadn’t thought he’d ever find himself in a tuxedo again. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to wear one for the Captain’s Dinner and he regretted it.
Go big or go home.
So he rented a tux from the men’s shop on the ship and was using their dressing room to dress.
The Captain’s Dinner hadn’t gone the way he’d planned. In any way. And maybe he was still pressing too much. But it was their last night and he was ready to go down swinging. If Claire wasn’t interested, at least he’d know that he’d given it everything he had.
He took a deep breath, took one more look in the mirror, deemed himself passable and headed for their stateroom.
He stood outside the door for a minute, trying to quell the butterflies in his stomach. He took a couple deep breaths, then knocked three times on the door.
The door opened and he tried to keep his jaw from hitting his shiny black shoes.
Claire’s soft curls framed her face perfectly and the dress fit like it had been tailored specifically for her. Just the right amount of makeup to make her lips a hundred times more kissable and her eyes big enough to dive into.
“Hi,” she said, smiling.
“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, hi.”
She stood back so he could enter the room and he commanded his legs to move. She shut the door behind him.
“A tux?” she asked. “Now I’m really curious.”
“I feel like a penguin.”
“You don’t look like a penguin.”
“You don’t either,” he said. “You look incredible.”
She smiled. “So do you.”
They stood there awkwardly for a moment.
“I want to give you the Prom,” he blurted out.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I want to give you the Prom,” he repeated. “That I took away from you.”
She stared at him, disbelieving.
“I took it away from you,” he explained. “From us. And I want to give it to you. I thought we could get dressed up, go have dinner and then find some place to dance.” He stopped for a moment. “I wasn’t kidding, Claire. It’s a huge regret for me.”
She stayed frozen in place, staring at him and he was starting to think he’d been an idiot.
“Or not,” he said. “Maybe it’s a dumb idea.”
She walked over to him and put her hand on his cheek. “It’s not dumb. At all. It’s…I don’t know what. Romantic. Amazing. Sweet. But not dumb.”
He closed his eyes, pressing her hand to his face with his own.
“But I have to ask you something first,” she said.
He opened his eyes. There was something in her voice. A different edge. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew there was something there. “Okay.”
She pulled her hand away from his face and sat down on the edge of the bed. She stared at him for a long time.
“What?” he finally asked. “What?”
He saw her swallow, saw her struggle to form the words.
“Were you engaged?”
He blinked several times, feeling the air leaving his lungs. How the hell had she found out about that?
He sat down next to her on the bed. Her eyes stayed on him.
“Yes,” he said. “I was engaged.”
She didn’t scoot away, but it was like he could feel the distance between them increase.
“Sarah Polk,” he said, leaning back on his hands. “We were engaged for several months. I met her when I was doing some writing in Sydney. She’s a surfer. I landed a profile piece on her. We hit it off. I’d been alone for a really long time. We had a few things in common and I was staying in Sydney for awhile. So, we were together.”
He paused, wondered what was going through her head, wondering if she was mad at him or bewildered or a hundred other things.
“We dated for about six months,” he said. “She really wanted to get married. She thought it would be good for her career. Make her more stable, more appealing to sponsors. I was…ambivalent. But she stayed on me and I started to feel guilty. Not exactly sure why, but like I was leading her on or something. So, I finally asked her. Over dinner one night. Nothing special or out of the ordinary. I didn’t even have a ring.”
Claire shifted on the bed. He knew it was making her uncomfortable and he hated that.
“But my heart wasn’t in it. She was doing all the planning and I was just along for the ride. Mainly because I knew I didn’t love her. I felt like a huge jerk. And she started to see it, too. Asked me if I was in love with her.” He sighed. “Had to tell her no.”
He remembered the look in Sarah’s eyes when he’d been honest. Like he’d ripped her heart out. He’d felt like the smallest person on the planet.
“So I told her I couldn’t go through with it,” he said. “That I didn’t want to get married to her.”
“You broke it off?” Claire asked.
He nodded.
Claire’s mouth twisted and she folded her hands in her lap. “That’s not what I read.”
He chewed his lip and stared at his feet. “Yeah, the announcement. See, Sarah was also very concerned about how all of it would be perceived. She thought it might hurt her endorsements or some crap like that. I don’t know. But she got out in front of the story. Her PR guy released a statement saying she’d broken off the engagement. Can’t even remember the reason they concocted. And, honestly, I didn’t care. It didn’t matter to me. I didn’t want to be with her.”
Claire shifted again on the bed. “Why not? I mean, I saw pictures of her. She’s stunning. Totally gorgeous. Why wouldn’t you…”
He cut her off.
“Because she wasn’t you, Claire,” he said, his voice raised. He ran his fingers through his hair, shook his head like he couldn’t figure out how to explain. “Just like every other woman I’ve dated for ten years, she wasn’t you. Sure, I could find things I liked about them. But then I’d compare them to you and all of a sudden, they’d look different. Less attractive. Less intelligent. Less funny. Less whatever. Sarah was as close as I could find. But in the end?” He stared at her. “She wasn’t Claire Woodward.”
She sat for a moment, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open. He waited and for one horrified moment, he thought he’d said too much. Scared her and ruined things for good.
But then she leaned over to him. Hesitantly, she put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him. The butterflies were back in his stomach. He found her waist and pulled her to him, heard her groan softly. She kissed him harder, her tongue flicking at his lips. He pulled his mouth away from hers and buried his face in her neck, pulling her in even tighter, kissing the soft skin beneath her ear. Her fingers tightened on his arm.
He pulled back, brushed her lips with his. “Claire,” he whispered.
She murmured something unintelligible, her hands moving to his chest, then to his neck, her body pushing into his.
He found her mouth again, volts of electricity firing through his body.
Her hands found the bow tie and he felt it unclip.
His hands found the zipper at the back of her dress and he pulled down on it. She sighed, but continued kissing him. He shifted his weight and eased her down onto the bed.
Her fingers were on the buttons of his shirt. He laid down on top of her, pressing his body into hers, his mouth next to her ear.
“Maybe we can’t have the Prom,” he whispered, biting softly on her earlobe.
She arched her back and moved into him, her eyes clamped shut. “No?”
He leaned into her, began sliding her dress down. “But we can have the night in the hotel. The night I wanted.”
She opened his shirt and then her eyes, staring at him. “The night we wanted. We.”
Her dress was off and he buried his face in her hair. Her fingernails dug into his back as she pulled him to her.
; “We,” he whispered. “We.”
TWENTY-THREE
Sunlight streamed through the open window of the cabin and Claire shifted on the bed. Warmth enveloped her and she snuggled deeper under the covers and sighed. It felt as though arms were wrapped around her, hugging her in her sleep.
Her eyes flew open. Arms were wrapped around her. Griffin’s. She twisted a bit, careful not to wake him, and turned her head so she could look at him. Dark eyelashes rested on tan skin, a soft almost-smile poised on his lips. He looked softer, vulnerable and her heart swelled. She couldn’t believe she was with him. Again.
Last night had far exceeded any expectation or any dreams she might have entertained about being with Griffin again. She let her eyes move from his face to his chest and let her thoughts drift back to the night they’d shared. She shivered. No man had ever desired her or wanted her or loved her like that. No man except Griffin. Because even as a teenage boy, he’d turned her insides to jelly that night on the beach, that night they’d given themselves fully to each other, that night that had been a first for both of them.
“Good morning.”
Claire’s eyes flew to his. “Good morning.”
He smiled at her with half-lidded eyes. “How did you sleep?”