Devin came out from behind the bar and fell into step beside Paul. “We’ll take the staff elevator down. It goes directly where you need to go,” he said. “What are you going to do tomorrow? We make port in Grand Cayman, and most of the crew will be leaving the ship. I assume you need to learn the ports of call, too, since you were interested in the lectures.”
“I don’t have any plans for tomorrow,” Paul said. He’d thought about leaving the ship and maybe taking a tour, but he didn’t need to know about the ports as much as he needed to know about the ship. He’d just wanted to see how the cruise director handled the lecture.
“Grand Cayman is beautiful,” Devin said, as he held the door leading from the pool area into the guest room hallway. “If you’re into the physical pursuits, there are snorkeling, windsurfing, and hiking tours.”
Paul shoved his hands into his pockets and made a conscious effort not to hunch his shoulders. In the past, he would have loved to do any of those activities, but now….
“Not really an option,” he said stiffly. “I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”
“You didn’t?” Devin was obviously taken aback. “Well, the ship shops sell them, so that’s not a problem if you want to go swimming. Or you can get one in port, if you don’t like what we have on board.”
“I didn’t bring a bathing suit or any shorts.” Paul’s heart pounded hard, and a knot tightened in his stomach. At this point, his family, friends, and colleagues all knew about his leg, and he hadn’t had to tell anyone new about it in quite some time. He didn’t want to tell anyone on board and have to face their reaction. Seeing the inevitable flash of pity in their eyes had gotten old fast. “I’m not going to buy any either. I don’t need them.”
They reached the staff elevator, and Devin swiped his ID card, then pressed the button. He didn’t say anything until they stepped into the elevator and the door closed behind them.
“Are you self-conscious about something, Paul?” Devin asked quietly. “Believe me, you don’t need to be.”
Paul released a slow breath and stared at the closed elevator doors. “This is why,” he said flatly as he hiked up his pants leg to reveal his prosthetic leg. Its design was basic: a somewhat realistic foot at the end of a sturdy metal shaft. But there was a flexible joint at the ankle to let him walk without obvious stiffness, and the prosthetic had been custom designed to fit his residual limb perfectly.
Devin leaned down, taking a closer look, then straightened up. He met Paul’s eyes with a direct gaze, and there was no pity in his expression. “Are you worried about getting it wet?” he asked. “If yours is like my cousin Joel’s, it can take the salt water just fine.”
A little of Paul’s wariness faded, and some of the stiffness in his shoulders eased up. People who were familiar with prosthetics tended not to ask as many intrusive questions as those who weren’t.
“It’s not that,” he said. “I’m not comfortable revealing it to the general public.” His scars were also an issue, but Devin didn’t need to know about that.
“That’s your right, of course,” Devin said quietly. “It’s just too bad you’re going to miss out on some wonderful experiences in order to spare the feelings of a bunch of people who don’t matter at all.”
“I don’t want to deal with the questions,” Paul said, averting his eyes. “Does it hurt? Do you feel phantom limb pain? Can you climb stairs? What if you trip? Even if they don’t ask questions, I can see it in their faces. The pity. Suddenly I’m not a whole person anymore.” He couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of his voice, which he knew was probably because of his ex. He’d hoped Jack would help and support him after he lost his leg, but instead Jack had seen him as someone who was too broken to deal with any longer.
“Bullshit,” Devin replied baldly. “Anyone who thinks that is a moron.”
“I know that,” Paul said, meeting Devin’s gaze at last. “I’ve been in therapy. Still am. I don’t want to have to manage other people’s feelings aboutmybody when I’m trying to do my job. That’s all.”
“I see.” Devin paused for a moment. “Well, if you don’t want to do the sporty excursions, there are others. I’m going to go to a restaurant on the east end of the island. Would you like to come along? The woman who runs the place has a collection of pirate artifacts that is better than anything you’ll find in a museum. Before you say no, I’m not asking because I feel sorry for you. I like spending time with you, so I’d be happy if you wanted to come with me.”
“You barely know me,” Paul said, giving Devin a dubious look.
“But what I know, I like,” Devin replied. He paused. “You’re not reluctant because I’m gay, are you? I mean, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me. Lots of straight guys are, so I wouldn’t hold it against you.”
Paul shook his head vehemently. “No, that’s not it.” He pushed his fingers through his hair and blew out a sharp breath. How had he gotten to the point of having to reveal things to Devin that he’d rather keep private? “I’m not straight,” he said at last.
“Then that shouldn’t be a problem. So you’ll come with me?”
“Sure,” Paul said, giving a little shrug. He didn’t see how he could refuse without appearing either ungracious or cowardly, and at least he could use the opportunity to add a little information about the experience at port to his report.
“Great!” Devin said. “I think you’ll really like it, and it’ll give you a basis of comparison for the food on the ship. They try to serve one entree from each port during the course of the cruise.”
“Sounds good. I’ll talk to the kitchen staff about that,” Paul said, eager to get back on more neutral ground. He’d always been a reserved and private person, and he’d become even more so over the past couple of years.
“You should—they love talking about the recipes,” Devin said. The elevator stopped, and Devin gestured for Paul to step out. “Here we are. After you.”
Paul exited the elevator and followed Devin to the kitchen, more than ready to focus on his job for a while. He felt unsettled after making two personal revelations within ten minutes to a virtual stranger, especially since he’d hoped to keep his orientation to himself. But just because Devin knew he was gay, that didn’t mean anything, he told himself sternly as he followed the executive chef around, listening to a rapid-fire explanation of how state-of-the-art thePearl’s kitchen was. There was no potential if he didn’t want there to be—and he definitely didn’t want there to be.
From now on, he was going to be strictly professional. Anything else was too dangerous, and Paul was nowhere near ready to risk his heart again.
