He was so sweet and gentle last night as he took care of me. Tiff says that I’m terrible and needy when I drink too much, but Anson didn’t act like I was. Maybe that’s in the parts I don’t remember and I hope it stays that way.
The Oliviers are returning from their overnight stay later this morning and then we depart for our return trip. We’ll stop at some ports along the way, but our three weeks are coming to a close.
Since we were gone all day yesterday, there’s a lot that needs to get done before Grace and Mark arrive. Stopping for a quick sip of my morning coffee, I take the stairs down to the guest cabins. I haven’t seen Keeran this morning, so I’m assuming she and Robbie are still enjoying their time together.
Good for them.
I work quickly to strip the sheets in the master cabin and scrub the bathroom clean. They’re probably going to want some relaxation time, so I add double towels and set out a face mask for Grace.
After working for some time, my stomach lets out a long, low growl. Damon should be awake by now and working on crew breakfast. My mouth waters at the thought of a warm muffin topped with melting butter.
“Morning, cheffy,” I sing as I step into the galley. His back is to me, the sound of bacon sizzling and the smell of them cooking on the grill has me moaning. “Whatcha cookin’ up for us today?” I ask as I plop myself onto the countertop and watch him work, sipping at my now cool coffee.
He doesn’t turn around, but calls over his shoulder, “Hannah, love, can we have a little chat?”
“If you’re wanting to talk about your major loss to me last night, then you’ll be sorry. I won that round fair and square.” Aidan had been the judge on our first round of hot tub sports, and he clearly stated that I was the winner. Ithink.
He chuckles and reaches for the nob of the stove, lowering the heat before turning to me. “Nah, it’s non-contested.” He placed both palms on the counter across from me, the only space between us being the small walkway. “I wanted to talk with you about last night.” His voice is lower and has a more serious ring to it. We’re normally fun, flirty banter, but this is different.
My hand grasps the handle of the mug beside me, bringing it to my mouth. “Okay?”
“What’s going on between you and the captain, love?” His blue eyes skewer into me, full of concern. My sharp intake of air has the liquid going down the wrong pipe, and I cough uncontrollably while he stands there watching me.
How does he know?
My mind sifts through garbled memories of last night and nothing comes to mind. We were laughing and having fun, and then Anson showed up. He carried me to bed and stayed the night with me.
Wait…he carried me to bed. Were Damon and Aidan there when he picked me up? For the life of me, I can’t remember.
Damon sighs and turns back to the stove, flipping over rows of bacon before turning back to me when my coughing subsides.
“What do you mean?” My first thought is to play dumb because I genuinely am at this moment. I’m not sure what he’s alluding to, and I’m sure as hell not going to give myself away.
“I mean,” he whispers, “the way you were rubbing all over him. It looked,” he pauses, glancing around the small galley, “familiar. Like you’ve done it before.”
“What?” I sputter, completely shocked. Did I lose my shit the moment Anson stepped on deck last night? It’s one hundred percent possible. I’d been thinking of the man all day and I was drunk…
Fuck.
Damon holds his hands up apologetically. “It’s not my business, love, but I wanted to check on you. Make sure you’re alright.”
I’ve ruined everything.
My hands begin to shake, terrible tremors that threaten to spill what little coffee is left in the mug. I’m panicking at the realization that something is going to happen, that I won’t see Anson again, that one of us—or both—is going to get fired.
Shit, shit,shit.
“It’s alright, love.” Damon walks around the counter and gently takes the sloshing mug from my grasp, setting it next to me. His warm hands glide up and down my arms in comfort. “I’m not going to tell anyone.”
He’s not going to tell anyone. The thought repeats through my head, my heart rate slowing as I take deep, soothing breaths, letting them out slowly.
“T-thank you, Damon. I’m alright," I stammer, doing my best to sound convincing. “There’s no need to worry about me. Orthat,” I add with a pointed look.
“Well, alright then.” He pushes away from me and goes back to the stove, completely unfazed.
I’ve got to get out of here.
My body is on autopilot as I head down to my room. I need time to think.
