Caribbean Cruising (8 page)

"I want you two to have loads of fun while you're on this cruise," Walter said. He reached into his jacket pocket, and handed an envelope to Ryan. "I got you tickets to the show."

I leaned toward Ryan. "Which movie?"

Laughing, Ryan handed me a ticket. "Not a movie, but a dance show. Kinda like a cabaret."

I looked at the ticket. Eight o'clock tonight. That was not going to work.

I lifted my eyes to Walter. He was beaming like he'd just handed me a diamond. I knew he meant well, and I simply didn't have the heart to disappoint him.

"Thank you."

He reached over and patted my hand. "You're more than welcome. You're my daughter now, and anything you want is yours."

Dinner seemed to go on forever. Walter and Ryan talked about the upcoming Tour de France. I spent my time reassuring Mom that I would be fine exploring the islands with Brooke, and that she really didn't need to worry about me anymore. After all, I was old enough to vote.

When we finally finished with dinner, Walter and Mom headed off in one direction. Ryan and I turned in the direction of our rooms.

"Come on and smile," Ryan urged. "Dinner wasn't
that
bad."

I held up the ticket that Walter had generously bought for me. "I had plans for tonight. Brooke and I were going to Cruisin'. I was supposed to meet her at eight."

Ryan snatched the ticket out of my hand. "I'll take care of it."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll trade them in for another night and time. Tomorrow night we'll be in St. Thomas. How about the night after?"

It seemed I was destined to keep changing my plans on this cruise, but I found it difficult to turn down Ryan's offer. I really felt like I owed it to Walter to go see the show. But I had worked myself up into looking forward to spending tonight at the nightclub.

"The night after tomorrow will be fine," I told him. "Do you think we could get an extra ticket for Brooke?"

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"Your new best friend?"

I grinned. "Yeah."

"Sure. Shouldn't be a problem."

"Thanks, Ryan."

"I'd better go take care of these before tonight's show starts, or they might not exchange them. I'll see you later."

I watched him walk off, then made my way to my cabin. I'd dressed up a little for the fancy dinner, and I wanted to dress down just a bit for tonight. I slipped into a pair of comfortable jeans and a white blouse that laced up the front and had billowy sleeves. It had a medieval look about it that I just loved.

I sat down at the table and made some notations for the night.

+ Drink margaritas by the pitcher.

+ Dance all night.

+ Meet some guys.

I slipped the key to my room into my jeans' pocket, along with the credit card Walter had given me to use when purchasing items on the ship. I put my purse into the safe in my closet, then headed for the club. I was so glad that I'd met Brooke. Going by myself would have really made me look desperate.

And even though I was…I didn't want to look that way.

CHAPTER 10

C
ruisin' was a happening place. Colored spotlights roamed over the dance floor. Even with all the lights flashing here and there, the place still seemed dark and mysterious.

It took me almost ten minutes of weaving through the crowd and peering around people to find Brooke.

And then we had to yell in each other's ear to be heard.

"Hey!" I yelled.

"Hey! Let's find a table."

Her suggestion was easier said than done. We wended our way around full tables and standing people. I decided that next time it would be a good idea if we got here a little earlier.

We finally located an empty table at the back, not nearly as close to the action as I'd like to have been.

"Getting picked up is like real estate!" Brooke shouted. "Location, location, location. Keep your eyes open for a table opening up closer to the dance floor."

The waitress came over. Brooke and I each ordered a frozen daiquiri. It would be my first daiquiri that wasn't a virgin, which may be a mistake considering how I handle champagne. But it seemed a little too mhtml:file://C:\Program Files\eMule\Incoming\+ Hawthorne, Rachel - Caribbean Cruising....

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much to be a virgin, drinking a virgin daiquiri, and heading to the Virgin Islands. I could see some country singer turning my vacation into a twangy song.

As soon as the waitress brought the frozen concoction over and walked away, Brooke tapped her glass against mine.

"To good times and hot guys!"

"I'll drink to that."

I looked out over the dance floor.

A lot of people were dancing to the music provided by the live band. I saw immediately that dancing here was way different from dancing at the prom.

Here, no teacher was going to tap me on the shoulder for dancing too closely or too provocatively.

"Drink up!" Brooke shouted at me.

I dropped my gaze to her glass. Half empty.

Mine was one sip short of full.

I sucked through the straw…too much, too fast.

Brain freeze!

Oh! I pressed my hand to my head. When the pain eased, I was hot. I didn't know if it was because of the rum, or the crowds in the place. It was like there suddenly was no air.

The music stopped, and the abrupt silence was almost deafening. Then conversations started buzzing around us.

"We'll never meet anyone way over here," Brooke said. She tapped my arm. "Come on."

I grabbed my drink, and followed Brooke through the crowd as the music started up again. I wanted to be on the dance floor, to be having a good time.

Having never frequented bars or nightclubs, being surrounded by strangers was a little harder than I had expected it to be. I nearly bumped into Brooke before I realized that she'd come to an abrupt halt. I peered around her. A table. Three guys. No girls.

This scenario had promise.

I could see one guy's mouth moving, but it was impossible to hear any of the words he was speaking.

Brooke nodded and smiled, so I nodded and smiled.

The next thing I knew the guys were shifting around the table, and two empty chairs appeared. Brooke dropped into one, so I dropped into the other.

When the song ended, we all made quick introductions: Cameron had blond spiked hair and a pierced mhtml:file://C:\Program Files\eMule\Incoming\+ Hawthorne, Rachel - Caribbean Cruising....

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ear; David had black hair and a goatee, very artsy-looking; Michael's hair was cropped so short that he looked almost bald in a Bruce Willis sort of way.

As I sat there, I was having a difficult time thinking of anything interesting to say. Another song was blasting over the speaker, but I couldn't blame it for my failure to communicate. I simply wasn't skilled at carrying on a conversation with guys I'd just met.

A couple of days earlier, Julie and I had taken a quiz that tested flirting styles. Answering all A's meant you were a vixen; all B's, mysterious; all C's, a comedian. I was all over the board, which obviously meant that I didn't
have
a flirting style. Maybe that was the reason that I had so little luck with guys.

Brooke, without a doubt, was a vixen. She kept touching her shoulder to David's like they were sharing a secret and were in danger of losing each other if they didn't keep in physical contact.

Mine was more along the lines of a I'll-give-you-a-stammering-reply-if-you-ask-me-a-direct-question style.

"Where are you from?" Cameron yelled in my ear.

I smiled. A question to which I knew the answer. "Dallas."

"We're from Oklahoma."

"Not much beach in Oklahoma." I thought that statement might fall under the comedic category.

He smiled. "None at all."

The music died. I expected everyone to start talking since we'd be able to actually hear one another, but no one said a word. As soon as the band started up again, Brooke and David headed to the dance floor.

Michael got up and moved around so he was on the other side of me. I was sandwiched in between him and Cameron.

"Where are you from?" Michael asked.

I was beginning to think that all relationships began with that question. "Dallas."

"Oklahoma."

So these guys obviously had known one another before they came onboard the ship.

"So you and Brooke are friends?" Cameron asked.

"Actually we met this afternoon."

"So who are you on the cruise with?" Michael asked.

Admitting I was here with my mom sounded so lame….

"I'm by myself."

"Really?"

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"My graduation gift."

"From college?" Cameron asked.

I laughed—torn between offering the truth and another lie. I went with the truth. "High school."

"You look older than that," Cameron said.

"I'm old enough."

With a grin that made me think I'd moved into the vixen category, he took my hand. "Let's dance."

And that's how I ended up in the middle of the colored lights on the dance floor. Bumping and grinding.

Having a blast.

Cameron's moves included quickly jabbing his fists at the floor, then at the ceiling. A quick spin. Jab down. Jab up. Spin. But he was obviously having fun with it, and I enjoyed dancing with him…. Until I spotted Ryan.

The red light moved over him, darkness; the blue light, darkness; the green light, darkness.

And the cycle started again.

Each passing light revealed him dancing with a girl in a way that would have a teacher up in arms, rushing across the dance floor, ruler in hand. Close. Sensual. Hot.

Not at all like the way he'd danced with me last night. It was obvious that if this girl went to his cabin, they were going to do a lot more than sleep.

"What's wrong?" someone shouted in my ear.

The someone was Cameron, his brow deeply furrowed. Only then did I realize that I was standing there like an idiot. The music thankfully stopped.

"I like to wind down before the song ends," I said.

He nodded like I was a genius. "Cool!"

Then Michael was standing beside us. "My turn," he announced.

I'd never been so popular, and it was a heady feeling. Two guys were interested in me. I would have thought they'd be fighting over Brooke, the vixen.

Maybe my flirting style was better than I thought it was.

The drumbeat lead into the next song, and Michael and I were…well, I was dancing. I wasn't quite sure what Michael was doing. He was all arms and legs, punching the air, kicking, and spinning around.

It didn't help that my gaze fell on Ryan who was still dancing close to his—whatever she was—looking in my direction, and obviously fighting to hold back his laughter.

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Still, I admired Michael's enthusiasm, and while I didn't quite match it, I didn't think I danced too badly.

Michael seemed to think sticking his tongue out added to his charisma as he rolled his shoulders toward me.

It occurred to me that maybe, like Brooke, he had a pierced tongue, and was trying to make sure that I knew it. But in the fluctuating gloom of the club, a pierced tongue wasn't readily visible unless the stud came with a blinking light.

When the song ended, I patted Michael's shoulder and decided that his enthusiasm needed to be spread around.

"Thanks. That was fun. I bet Brooke would enjoy dancing with you."

"I doubt it. She and David took off to her cabin."

Whoa! That quickly? One dance and she was inviting the guy to her cabin?

So it wasn't that two guys were fighting over me because I was such a spectacular babe. It was because I was the only babe.

I was a little bummed that she hadn't even said good-bye. Truthfully I resented it a little because we'd agreed to come here together, and then she'd taken off with the first eligible guy to come around. My excitement over the evening deflated like a pinpricked balloon.

Michael and I walked back to the table where Cameron had ordered another round of drinks. My daiquiri definitely wasn't a virgin. Although I had a feeling that I was going to remain one for a while longer.

Not that there was anything really wrong with Cameron or Michael. They were fun guys, but I just couldn't see myself getting up close and personal with either one of them.

Besides, I rationalized, I didn't want to hurt either of their feelings by choosing one over the other.

I didn't quite know how to gracefully leave. I was also a little more miffed at Brooke for taking off without even telling me.

"Did Brooke say anything about me before she left?" I asked.

"She told us to take good care of you," Michael said. He wiggled his eyebrows.

"I see. Well, you've certainly done that."

I took a big sip of my daiquiri, and closed my eyes against another brain freeze. I'd gone from fascinating flirt to dead-girl flirt in a heartbeat.

I opened my eyes, and saw Ryan standing between Michael and Cameron. He jerked his head to the side, turned, and headed for the dance floor.

Was that an invitation?

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"I'll be right back," I promised, without thinking.

When I caught up with Ryan, I discovered that indeed he'd asked me to dance because he started in close, his gaze holding mine.

"Where's the girl you were with?" I asked. Immediately I wanted to bite off my tongue. It was not cool to admit that I'd noticed him dancing with someone else.

"I'm playing the field," he said with a grin. "So which is it going to be for you? Tweedle Dee or Tweedle Dum?"

I slapped his arm. "They aren't that bad."