Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four (143 page)

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Love,

his right shoulder startled him. He smiled and

Dee

shook his head, both at her question and her

stealth. His sister always could sneak up on him

without really trying. Her slender finger reached

past to point into the crowd. “How about him?”

“Who?” He glanced at her and then

followed her gaze to a guy with white-blond

dreadlocks and a guitar case slung over one

shoulder. His jeans looked ripped and worn

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 877

through natural use and old age instead of the fashionably ruined look

of designer slumming.

“Really, Maggie?” Nick rolled his eyes and grabbed her wrist,

lowering her hand.

“You like musicians.”

“I swore off starving artist types.”

She giggled. “But you and I both know you can’t resist for long.”

Nick turned to face Maggie. “Look here Margaret Walker, I’m not

as hopeless as—”

He stopped short when Maggie threw her hands over her ears

squeezing her eyes shut and squealed. “La la la la!” She paused and

peeked at him through one eye.

“What are we? Four?” He smothered a giggle but his smile

escaped.

She lowered her hands and opened her eyes to fix him with an

indignant stare. “Six,” she said with a stomp of her foot.

At just barely five feet tall, her long, dark hair pulled into low pig

tails behind her ears and an exaggerated pout on her heart-shaped

face, Maggie could look like a kid. It escaped all but their closest

friends that she had two and a half years on Nick.

“I am
not
a Walker anymore.”

“Oh, good. Here I thought I was about to get decked for calling

you—” He bit his tongue, choosing not to push his luck. “Did you

make it to the restrooms?”

She nodded. “I’m fast. Even if I can’t just whip it out.” When

Nick grimaced, she laughed and continued as if she’d said nothing

crass. “It’s a shame,” she said. “I liked the name better than “Boden”,

but no way do I want a lingering connection to that man.”

Nick picked up his backpack. Maggie fell in beside him as he

followed the signs for Baggage Claims. “I thought you were going to

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 878

remain friends with him?” Nick asked. He immediately wondered if

he was poking a bear.

“That’s unlikely after he stuck me with my brother for our big

special vacation.”

Nick paused and hooked a thumb over his shoulder back the way

they came. “I can go,” he said.

She caught his hand and held it as they continued their journey

down the long, wide corridor. “You are not backing out now,” she

said. “We’re going on this cruise and we’re going to enjoy it.”

“Of course we are,” Nick mumbled under his breath.

****

Tad Eglington shifted on his toes – left foot, right foot, left foot.

He tipped his head trying to get a glimpse between the strips of plastic

separating the baggage handlers from the travelers. He could hear

them back there, and yet the belt still hadn’t been started. He sighed

and lifted the paperback dangling from his hands, his forefinger

holding his place. Again. He’d read the same paragraph several times.

The story was good but he was eager to get on with his first vacation

in three years.

Will, his ex
good riddance
, wouldn’t have approved of such

frivolous spending, and with that thought, Tad settled into a wide-

legged stance and grinned. Will had hand-cuffed him for nearly two

years. The man had been wild in the sack. He’d been smart and clever

and fun, but Tad couldn’t picture his future living under Will’s penny

pinching ways. Will would’ve fainted if he saw Tad’s bill for one

single week on the cruise ship Freedom, even without the balcony

upgrade.

And, the balcony was a must. Tad had little desire to hang around

on deck all day with a crowd of strangers. He wanted warm sun and

good food. He needed nothing more, except to catch up on several

books by his favorite authors. He folded down a corner and flipped

the book closed, giving up on page forty-two in favor of reassuring

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 879

himself once more that vacationing alone didn’t mean he should start

seeing a shrink. Granted every one of his friends and extended family

thought him crazy for it, but Tad eagerly anticipated the relaxation

and lack of responsibility vacationing alone granted.

Tad could hear faint voices in the back. He imagined baggage

handlers sitting around playing cards while the entire flight huddled

around the quiet conveyor belts, anxiously awaiting their belongings

so the true vacation can start. As he tried to peek through the curtain

again, a slim blonde woman in a cute red skirt suit touched his arm

and smiled up at him.

“Hello, will you be on our shuttle?”

He glanced at her name tag. Sandy, from Freedom Cruises.

“Yes, Sandy.”

“Welcome to Miami!” Her smiled brightened. “What’s your

name?”

“Theodore Eglington.”

She checked his name off of her list. “Okie dokie. And who are

you traveling with?”

“No one.”

Her pen hovered over the checklist for three seconds before she

looked up, a quizzical look on her face. “You’re visiting us alone?”

He resisted the urge to argue with her. He’d had enough of

defending his choice among his friends and colleagues. “Yes, I am.”

He offered his best charming smile and nodded.

Her smile faltered for all of a second before she grinned wider and

said, “Okie dokie, Theodore.”

“Call me Tad.”

“Uh-huh, Tad, you got it.” She paused. “Okie dokie then,” she

said with too much enthusiasm. “We’ll meet the bus outside that

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 880

door.” With her pen, she pointed toward the sliding glass doors on the

far side of the crowd.

“Got it.”

She looked up at him once more, and he thought she was going to

say something else, but instead she pushed a smile across her lips and

then looked around for her next check-in victim. She walked away

without saying a word. At first offended, Tad shrugged it off and

decided he’d prefer she didn’t offer false wishes for a fun-filled

vacation. Besides, he didn’t want to hear her chirp “okie dokie” again.

Tad let his gaze wander over the crowd. He sucked in a breath as

his gaze landed on a man who blew away the tired old trope “tall,

dark, and handsome.” Easily matching Tad’s six-foot-two height, the

man had wild black hair dusting sharp cheekbones while not quite

hiding the roll of his eyes as he stumbled through the crowd. Tad

followed his movements and found his leash in the form of a short

woman in pigtails and a vibrant smile. Tad sneered at her and then

sighed, forcing himself to relax. She was actually his type—when he

was in the mood for a woman, and only if she hadn’t been attached to

a much better looking specimen. Tad returned his study to Tall, Dark,

and Handsome. Nothing wrong with enjoying the view, he decided,

even if the man was straight and spoken for. With facial hair in a style

Tad usually didn’t like — a goatee sans mustache — Handsome needed

to shave the foolish anchor-shaped splash of hair on his chin, but at

the same time, Tad remembered a beard like that could create a

pleasant tickle during oral play. He shifted his weight and his

daydreams, willing his groin to remain calm despite the erogenous

thoughts.

As Handsome stopped near the front of the crowd, he pulled the

woman back, threw an arm around her slender shoulders, and then

kissed her temple. The tender gesture ruined Tad’s fantasy. He shook

himself from the shattered daydream and scanned the other faces in

the crowd. No one caught his fancy, not like the stranger with the tiny

girlfriend. She had moved away from him, slinking her way to a spot

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 881

in front of the belt. She looked like she weighed less than the suitcases

most people used for vacations.

If you’re into that,
he thought dourly. As soon as the thought

crossed his mind, he frowned and mentally kicked himself. He had

never been one to give into selfish attitudes, even in the privacy of his

own mind. He stared at the stranger, wondering what about the man

had Tad so damn possessive and jealous.

More than before, Tad wanted to hurry up and get to his room on

the ship. He needed to get away from the temptation in raven locks

and olive skin. The baggage handlers answered his wish. The belt

leapt to action with a wail and a creak. A half-hearted cheer undulated

through the crowd and, as one, they pressed forward, inching closer to

the still empty, but now moving, conveyor belt. His single large

suitcase rolled out second, behind a bright pink hard-sided model

decorated with sparkly stickers. He grabbed his plain black luggage

and veered through the crowd toward the door Sandy had indicated.

Once the driver stowed his suitcase under the bus, Tad climbed

on, hugging his carry-on with confirmation details and wallet to his

chest. He slid into the last seat and proceeded to ignore the other

passengers while the driver flung bags into the undercarriage

compartment with enough force to shake Tad’s seat. He stared out the

side window, watching tall palms sway against a nearly cloudless sky.

Vacation. Finally. He smiled.

When they arrived at the port, Tad zoned out, letting himself be

guided by the flood of people and cheerful cruise employees. By rote,

he disembarked from the bus, marked his luggage, and followed the

crowd to the long, weaving check-in queue. The press of passengers

thinned out briefly on the other side of the long line of windows

confirming passengers’ identities and assigning room keys, but within

a short two minute walk, Tad caught up with the crowd to stand in

another line, this time to board the ship. He craned his head to the side

and could barely see the gangway, packed with passengers. So close,

and so far at the same time.

Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 882

As close as he was, with paperwork in hand, and the ship in his

view, Tad found himself relaxing. He was a few minutes from

actually boarding, but he smiled and called it the official start of his

vacation. Travelling exhausted him; now he could relax. He dug his

book out of his bag and read as he shuffled his feet behind the person

ahead of him in line, glancing up only once in a while to check his

progress.

Once through the door, the crowd took a few moments to spread

out into a large room circling an elegant bar with a black, marble bar

top, plush mahogany stools, and scrubbed silver trim on everything.

Several small, two-person tables surrounded it, but Tad saw an

opening and took it. He fled down a corridor, past an unmanned help

desk, and didn’t stop as he passed a group waiting for the big glass

elevators to bring them to another level of the ship.

Free of the press of tired, anxious bodies, he slowed and took a

deep breath, exhaling with a sigh. As he left everyone else behind, he

veered to a switchback staircase and climbed the steps two at a time.

He arrived in front of the gift shop, doors closed, but lights in the

windows illuminated mannequins wearing white slacks with Hawaiian

shirts, and sundresses designed to do little more than cover a swimsuit

in the dining room. Through another window, shelves of rum balls,

liquor bottles, and assorted candy beckoned, and behind the register, a

forgetful traveler could find aspirin, sun screen, and a variety of

personal needs such as deodorant, toothpaste, and other sundries at

what Tad assumed would be double or triple the price of the local

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