Unstoppable: A Sweet Romance (Jersey Girls Book 2)

by Lisa-Marie Cabrelli

  Stephen took a step backward, away from the crazy lady. She blushed again. “Okay, well, if you aren’t up for dinner, then we will do it another time.” He turned to leave.

  He bumped directly into the stone cliff that was Joe's chest, which had appeared suddenly in the hallway behind him.

  “Stove’s broken,” Joe said.

  “What?” Stephen stepped back into Maureen’s cabin—Joe took up a lot of space. “The stove’s not broken.”

  “Stove’s broken,” he insisted. “I’m very sorry, Mommee, but there will be no food available on the boat tonight. You must go out with Stephen.”

  Maureen wasn’t about to argue with Joe. Even though he gave her the sweetest smile, his presence was pretty intimidating, and he sounded so firm and authoritarian that she nodded without realizing it. She usually did as she was told, anyway.

  She wasn't sure it was the right thing to do, but the thought of being on this boat alone for the evening, stressing about why she was even here in the first place, made her crazy. “So, let’s go then,” she said to Stephen, “to this local place you know. Can I have a sky juice?”

  Stephen laughed and nodded. “Sure. Do you know what a sky juice is?”

  “No, but it sounds like a very sophisticated cocktail. Just let me change.”

  Stephen grabbed her arm again and she stopped. “Why? You look great.”

  She looked down at her outfit in surprise. When she had arrived back at her cabin after Brad’s departure, the first thing she had done was head straight to the bathroom to wash off her makeup and change her clothes. She was wearing khaki shorts, a black t-shirt, and white tennis shoes—not exactly the height of glamor.

  “I do?” She was still looking down at her outfit, but she felt Stephen’s gaze lingering on her face.

  “You do.”

  She looked up to stare directly into those blue eyes. To her surprise, she felt a little flip of her tummy, and she blushed.

  27

  Arawak Cay

  Now that Stephen was tucked in the driver’s seat of the yacht van with Maureen sitting quietly beside him, he wondered if he had made a mistake. Joe had guilted him into going to apologize, but he was right; she was a guest on the boat. If she was dumb enough to fall for a guy like that Brad asshole, what did that have to with him? He had one job, though, and he had promised Don that he would do his best.

  What he hadn’t expected was the dinner invitation—it had kind of just popped out. He had felt sorry for Maureen when she was making excuses for Brad’s absence, plus he hated to think of anyone alone in a place where they knew no one. He knew what it felt like to eat dinner alone when you were craving company: it sucked.

  Now that they were on their way to dinner at the Fish Fry though, Stephen was questioning his decision. What was his real motivation behind asking her to go out with him? Was it fair? Aside from the fact that she was beautiful, he also found her so intriguing. Her shyness was out of odds with the kind of character he would expect in one of Brad's girls. Her lack of awareness of her beauty and that adorable blush also drew him in. She was the exact opposite of the overly-confident social whirlwind that was Lulu.

  “How long have you worked on the boat?” Maureen asked, fastening her seatbelt as he pulled into the traffic circle that would take them across the bridge and back to Nassau.

  “A week or so,” Stephen said. “I’m doing it as a favor for Captain Don.”

  “He’s a friend of yours?”

  “Yep! I’ve known him for years—we were college roommates. I needed a break from work and… stuff… so he suggested I help him out on his current job. That’s why I flew back to the Lauren Belle.”

  “Back? You've been here before?”

  “Yeah, I have.” He went silent. If he said any more, it would be difficult not to give himself away. He didn’t want Maureen to know his real purpose in Nassau.

  “It must be nice to have a friend who works on a boat—an any time, instant vacation.”

  Maureen was gazing out the passenger window. The sun was dropping and two large cruise ships at the main dock dominated the view with orange and red exploding behind them like slow, silent fireworks. He watched her lips lift into a gentle smile and caught himself smiling, too.

  Oh God, he thought. This is troubling. In the past two years, he had forgotten there were women in the world other than Lulu. Now he had remembered and he found himself attracted to the girlfriend of his employer. Not cool, Stephen.

  The rest of the ten-minute drive passed in companionable silence, unlike the silence of this morning, which had been wrought with tension caused by his irritation. He shouldn’t have been so bad-tempered.

  They parked the car in the wide dirt parking lot in front of the ocean at Arawak Cay, and he led her toward the restaurants.

  “You know those old western films that have the dusty old main street in them?” he asked Maureen. She was looking around eagerly, drinking in the lively atmosphere.

  “Yeah, sure,” she cocked her head at him.

  “Arawak Cay always makes me think that, somehow, someone picked up one of those streets, dropped it down here, painted everything pink and green and blue, and turned the music on.”

  He watched Maureen concentrate on the view of the pulsing, shack-like restaurants in front of her. “Yeah, I see it,” she smiled. “Any shoot-outs planned for this evening?”

  Stephen laughed uncomfortably. “Don’t curse us,” he said. “No—it’s perfectly safe around here.”

  Arawak Cay was crawling with activity. The row of restaurants along the single sidewalk was bursting at the seams with Bahamians and tourists, alike. People crowded around the fresh conch salad shacks with their palm-covered roofs and faded, wooden stools. There were kids running around everywhere and Stephen gave up trying to match them with parents—whoever was closest to them scooped them up and out of trouble, if they found themselves in it. The music was blaring from every doorway, and each restaurant was playing an entirely different song, so the noise became one giant thrum in his jawline.

  He muscled his way into Oh Andros and asked for a table. They were seated at a quieter, dimly-lit wooden bench in the back of the restaurant, apart from the rest of the diners.

  He handed her a sticky menu and their fingers touched briefly. “Are you ready for your sky juice?”

  “Yes, please,” she said. “It’s not too strong, is it?”

  He laughed. “It’s incredibly strong. It’s gin and coconut milk—tastes like a milkshake, so you need to be careful and drink it slowly. After about ten minutes, it goes straight to your head."

  “Oh, well, perhaps I shouldn’t have one, then,” Maureen blushed and her hand flew up to twist her hair. Stephen decided it must be a nervous habit, but it was very cute.

  “Of course you should have one! As a guest of the Lauren Belle, you are under my protection, and I insist. I'll make sure you stop, and if one's too much, don't worry: I can always call Joe to come carry you home.”

  Maureen laughed and her blush faded. “Well, I don’t think I’ll be as bad as all that, although I don’t drink much, so we’ll see how I do. Let’s go for it. Will you have one, too?”

  “I have to drive,” Stephen said, “but I will enjoy you enjoying yours.”

  “Tell me what you love about the Bahamas.”

  He spent the next hour with Maureen, chatting comfortably. They started on the Bahamas and then he shared his other favorite places around the world. Luckily, he managed to avoid the conversation going in the direction of his job or his past, and they just focused on his travels. She asked insightful questions, gasped at his tales of adventure, and laughed in all of the right places. She seemed quite comfortable chatting about his life, but he found himself eager to hear more about her. He decided to start with the question he most wanted to ask. It was a dangerous one.

  “So, how did you meet Brad?”

  She looked up at him and blushed that lovely blush again. She must have strong fee
lings for him—only God knew why. “Friends,” she said. “Brad buys art from a good friend of mine. I’ve been having some trouble at… work… and when Brad invited me, my friends and my boss thought this would be a good trip for me to take." She looked down at her plate and picked at the remains of her fried snapper. "I’m kind of trying to reinvent myself.”

  “A career change?” he asked, watching Maureen move to her sky juice. She slurped from the bottom of the styrofoam cup.

  “Yeah. That and a few other changes I need to make. I’ve decided to take charge of my life, instead of letting people walk all over me.”

  She slowly brought her eyes back to his and gave him a smile. Damn! he thought. If he ever caught anyone walking over her, he would have something to say about it. The feelings of tenderness surged up in him again, and he had the urge to squeeze into her side of the booth and put his arms around her. Was Brad the one walking all over her? He would be watching him like an eagle from now on.

  “Who were you letting walk all over you?”

  She slammed her cup down onto the table. “Just people,” she said. “Guys are pretty crappy in general, aren't they?" He didn't answer, but she kept talking loudly, and he could practically see the sky juice racing through her bloodstream. "I'm not letting people walk over me, anymore, though. I am going to make myself into a new person, completely unstoppable! By the way, I think you should call me Mo.”

  The waiter had looked over at the sound of her raised voice and Stephen motioned for the check. “Mo? Now, why would I call you that? I like Maureen.”

  “You do not!” She leaned back and studied him. “Nobody likes Maureen—it’s mousy. It's a mousy name for a mousy girl.”

  He knew he should keep his mouth shut, but he decided to say what was on his mind. It made him angry that anyone could make this girl believe she was less than. “I don’t think the name Maureen is mousy—it’s a beautiful name—and I don't think you're mousy, either. I think you're pretty amazing, actually."

  Maureen looked back down at her sky juice and shook the ice in the bottom of the cup. She was blushing.

  28

  The Boat Guy

  Maureen rarely spoke to her older brother, Frank. He was the pride and joy of her parents’ lives and the childhood nemesis of her own. Frank was now a big-time lawyer somewhere down in Texas. He had a beautiful house, a beautiful wife, and a beautiful, new baby. He had a beautiful everything. He was charming and outgoing, and everyone thought he was the crème de la crème—especially her parents. What he didn’t have was much time for his baby sister.

  It seemed that everything she did pissed off her big brother, starting with the fact that she was born. Before she came along, he had enjoyed six years as the star of a magical world that revolved around him. That was when this demanding, bawling, little creature entered his life, and it was as if he’d decided he was going to make damn sure she didn’t get any of the limelight, not that she could have, anyway. It would have been impossible to outshine Frank. He was a straight-A student and the star quarterback of the football team, while also being the star of every school musical. No one ever believed her when they found out she was his sister, and he had been happy to keep it that way.

  “You’re so insecure that you’re embarrassing, Maureen.” His insults were so ironic, given that he’d had a major part in creating the trait he detested the most. Ever since she was a toddler and began following him around, in awe of her big brother, he had never missed an opportunity when their parents weren't around to tell her how insignificant she was and how stupid she sounded. “Even worse," he would say, "you project every insecurity you have, so everyone knows. Can’t you control your own emotions? It’s not attractive how you blush all the time. You're embarrassing.”

  The put-downs, of course, had only made Maureen blush deeper. Her blush had followed her through life like a thwarted lover with an unsettled grudge, always appearing at the most inopportune moments.

  Magnificent Mo wouldn’t blush, she decided.

  She was lying on the bed in the quiet of her cabin, stuffed with fried snapper, peas, rice, and coleslaw. She was thinking about Stephen—and she was blushing. Stephen was not the reason she was here. Plus, she didn’t know much about him at all. She knew he worked on a boat, but she didn't know what his other job was—the work he needed a break from. She had discovered tonight that he had traveled a great deal and enjoyed exploring the world, probably doing jobs just like this one. She knew he was moody, that was for sure, and she knew he was cute as hell. She had also discovered tonight that he was funny, kind, undeniably sweet, yet still incredibly masculine, and although she had been blushing in his presence, for the first time, it wasn't out of insecurity, but humility. Aside from Claire, she had never met anyone who made her feel so confident—so okay—just as she was.

  Maureen had always been drawn to more average men, like Nick and his desk job flabbiness, or Phil and his beer belly. Both Brad and Stephen were way out of her league; Brad because he was rich, handsome, and sophisticated, and Stephen because he was mega-hot. No mega-hot guy had even looked at Maureen twice, yet she thought that maybe, just maybe, Stephen had been flirting with her tonight. Had he been flirting, or had the sky juice just added a nice, illusionary haze to everything she was experiencing?

  She needed Claire. Claire would straighten her out. She looked at her watch: 10:30 pm. Was it too late? She dialed Satish's home phone, knowing she could probably catch her there.

  “Hello, speak to me!” It was Sally, not Claire.

  “Sal? What are you doing there? It’s Maureen.”

  “Oh my god, Maureen, how’s Heaven? How’s Brad? Why are you calling me right now when you should be in Brad’s bed, making all his dreams come true?”

  “For goodness’ sake, Sally, I’ve been here less than twenty-four hours. Even you don’t work that fast.”

  Sally sighed on the other end of the phone. “Oh, you didn’t know me in my golden years, Maureen. I was good—really good. Now I spend my evenings baby-sitting nineteen-year-old girls while my fiancé lies in bed alone. Times have changed.”

  “Babysitting? For Nandita? What’s going on?” Maureen got up from the bed and wandered her cabin. She discovered a basket filled with luxury bath and body products and got started opening the tiny bottles and sniffing, she would choose something decadent and have a long, luxurious bath.

  “Nothing that I can tell—just Satish being a freak, as usual. Honestly, that man needs to back off. Apparently, Nandita’s been acting secretive since our dinner party and Satish thinks she’s planning on sneaking out. Claire wanted some alone time, but the only way Satish would agree to dinner was if I came over to play security gal. I’m expecting them any minute.”

  “Poor Satish,” Maureen said. “Claire said he’s really nervous about screwing up this whole Nandita responsibility. I think it’s hard on their relationship, as well.”

  “Pfft. They were all over each other leaving for the restaurant. You’d think they had just met each other yesterday. Even Tod says, ‘hashtag relationship goals,’ when he sees them together. I mean, what a way to make your girlfriend insecure.”

  “You insecure, Sally? That’s about as likely as me being secure.”

  “Okay, enough with the chit chat. I want the dirty details. What’s going on? Give me a progress report.”

  Maureen settled on a bottle of jasmine-scented bath salts and matching body lotion and walked into the bathroom to get the hot water started. A bath on a boat, who would’ve thought? “Well, Brad hasn’t been around much, to be honest, but I went to dinner tonight with this guy, Stephen—he works on the boat—and we had such a great evening. He’s cute as hell, and…”

  Sally interrupted, “Oh no. Nope, nope, nope.”

  “What?” Maureen sat down on the edge of her bath and spilled the salts under the running faucet.

  “You did not go there to hook up with a boat guy, Maureen. Seriously? Do you mean to say you have the opportunity
to catch a guy like Brad, who has everything, and you are picking the boat guy? This is so like you!”

  “What is so like me? What do you mean?”

  “You don’t think you are good enough for Brad. You're feeling all Maureeny and insecure, so you set your sights on someone who would be easy for you to catch—someone who will walk all over you, like Phil!”

  Maureen felt a bit teary. Was Sally right? Was she doing it again? Was she settling?

  “This Stephen guy, Sally—he’s totally out of my league. I mean, he is smart, well-traveled, and so handsome.”

  Sally blew air through her lips in frustration, making a raspberry sound down the phone. “Maureen, listen to me and listen to me closely. You think everyone is out of your league. I can assure you that this Stephen is not out of your league. For God’s sake, he is a boat guy! You are on a luxury yacht with a guy who could probably buy it for you, and you pick the boat guy?”

  Sally was getting worked up, and Maureen felt even closer to tears. She was always getting it wrong. “This is not what Magnificent Mo would do, Maureen. Now, come on! Bust out some of those amazing outfits I bought you and spend tomorrow focusing on getting Brad’s attention, so he sticks around.”

  “Okay.” Maureen watched the water rise in the bath and decided maybe she didn’t want one, after all. She turned off the faucet and pulled the plug. “I’ll try, Sally. You’re right: I didn’t give Brad much of a chance. I only saw him for five minutes today, and it didn’t go too well. I’ll do better tomorrow.”

  “You go girl! Go get ‘em!” She heard a click as Sally hung up the phone.

  Her sky juice high had definitely faded. It was time for bed, she decided. She should stop imagining that Stephen was flirting with her. Of course, he wasn't flirting—he was doing his job and taking care of a guest on the boat.

  She needed to focus on her objective for this trip: her transformation to Magnificent Mo. She would get up early tomorrow, get herself pretty, and review the “Make Every Man Want You” article for some more tips. Based on what happened with Brad today, it seemed that the effectiveness of step one had faded, along with her enthusiasm.