“James Thomas Morrow.”
James’s head snapped up toward the now-familiar voice. Mr. Livingston was strolling into the room, his swimming suit slung over his shoulder, a small, wolfish smile stretched across his face. Immediately, James’s stomach began to roll even more violently than the water in the pool.
“Did I have that right?” the man asked.
James swallowed thickly.
“Yes.”
It was all James could manage. Mr. Livingston lifted his chin, gesturing to the cup in James’s hands.
“Coffee?”
“I brought it for you.”
“Hm. And here I thought that you weren’t working the bath complex this morning.”
“I . . . uhm, well, I switched with someone.”
Mr. Livingston’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Why?”
“Just... wanted to.” James shrugged, his stomach still topsy-turvy. He extended his hand that was holding the coffee. “Cream, no sugar.”
Mr. Livingston’s smile broadened the tiniest bit. “You remembered.”
Warmth flooded James’s cheeks, and he smiled back.
“I remembered.”
Mr. Livingston took the cup from him. He only had one little sip before handing it back.
“Decent enough,” the man said. James would have been offended had the shimmer in the man’s eyes and the particular curve of his lips not betrayed his real feelings. “I’ll have more after I change.”
He walked past James and entered the closest changing cubicle. James raked his free hand through his hair. Dear God, why was he torturing himself like this?
Moments later, Mr. Livingston emerged looking... Oh, he looked nothing short ofspectacular. Lean and muscular, the man’s physique was exquisite. And the curls of chest hair peeking out from his blue one-piece swimming suit were bloodyperfection. James could barely even stand looking at him.
His eyes flickered southward, and he caught sight of Mr. Livingston’s bulge. Heat flooded his cheeks, and his heart began to hammer.
Alright,nowhereallycouldn’t stand to keep looking at him.
Mr. Livingston chuckled softly. “It’s a bit snug, isn’t it? It seems as though Mr. Quinn must have forgotten to pack the replacement I purchased before we left home.” He paused to survey his own body. “But this one fits well enough. In most places.”
In James’s opinion, it fit too well. Inallplaces.
Frazzled, he thrust the coffee cup into Mr. Livingston’s hands before quickly turning away, knowing that he might not surviveanother second of bearing witness to every magnificent curve of the other man’s physique. Not that the whole of it wasn’t burned into his memory now.
James shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Mr. Livingston savor the coffee, the man letting out not one, buttwocontented-sounding hums as he finished the beverage. Each one made James’s knees wobble.
He wanted to coax forth more of those hums. In a much more private area of the ship.
“Here you are, James,” Mr. Livingston said, handing the cup and saucer back to him. “I’m not sure how you knew that I’d need that first thing in the morning.”
James’s stomach fluttered once more. But he couldn’t make himself respond, much less look the other man in the eye. Mr. Livingston clapped him on the shoulder as he passed. After placing the cup and saucer by his feet, James continued to stare at the floor tiles as he waited for Mr. Livingston to loop around to the stairs and enter the swimming bath.
“It’s surprisingly pleasant,” the man said. James finally let himself look up. Mr. Livingston had gone in up to his torso, though the water kept lapping up even higher, wetting his chest. “I wish you could come in with me.”
James smiled a bit.
