Murky Seas (A Rowan Gray Mystery Book 2) Page 2

  “You look like a dreamboat,” Demarcus teased, amused.

  The corners of Quinn’s mouth tipped down as he shifted a dark look over his shoulder. “You don’t have to be here,” he reminded the chatty head bartender. “If you’re bored, by all means, the door is that way.” Quinn jerked his thumb for emphasis.

  Demarcus didn’t bother muffling his snort and he was almost certain he heard Quinn mutter something about “not needing any of this” before turning back to his reflection. Quinn hadn’t been on the ship all that long himself before Rowan showed up on the scene, although he certainly wasn’t a newcomer. Over that time he’d been friendly with other workers but refused to embrace lasting bonds. That’s why Demarcus took it upon himself to force a friendship. He figured Quinn needed it, whether he realized it or not. Life at sea could be lonely if you shut yourself off to possibility.

  “You wanted me here,” Demarcus reminded him.

  “I did not!” Quinn’s eyes flashed with protest. “You invited yourself to watch me get dressed, and you brought martinis, for that matter. I didn’t invite you to do anything.”

  Demarcus ignored Quinn’s tone. “Martinis you haven’t so much as sipped yet.”

  “I’m not in the mood to drink.” Quinn ran a hand over his dark hair before smoothing the front of his shirt. “I’m fine.”

  “Uh-huh.” Demarcus dubiously downed the remainder of his martini. “This is a watermelon martini, man. I made it especially for you. You’re hurting my feelings by not drinking it.”

  Quinn scowled, his dark eyes filling with disgust. “Are you trying to make me kill you? If so, you’re doing a good job. I really do want to wrap my hands around your neck and give it a good squeeze.”

  Demarcus shrugged, unbothered. “I’m trying to get you to relax, man. You’re coiled like a snake. If you’re not careful, you’re going to strike … like a snake. Like a mean snake.” Demarcus got lost in his description before regrouping. “What was I saying?”

  “That I’m a snake.” Quinn’s tone was dry. “Then you got distracted by the sound of your own voice. I’m pretty sure that’s the alcohol’s fault.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Demarcus flashed a winning smile, the stark white of his teeth standing out against the rich brown tones of his skin. “Dude, seriously, you need to take it down a notch. That’s why I brought the martinis.”

  Quinn stared at him a moment, his expression unreadable. “I think I’m nervous.” It was hard to admit, but the second the words left his mouth he felt better. “Seriously, dude, I think I’m nervous. I don’t even know how it happened.”

  “You met a certain photographer and fell head over heels the second she opened her mouth.”

  Quinn shot Demarcus a withering look. “I hardly fell head over heels. I find her interesting. That’s all.”

  Demarcus knew it was more than that, but he didn’t want to risk pushing Quinn when he clearly wasn’t ready to admit anything of the sort. He worried he might cause the man to take a step back, inadvertently hurting Rowan in the process. Quinn would come back – Demarcus was certain about that – but he didn’t want to derail the Quinn and Rowan train before it had a chance to gain steam.

  “She’s an interesting woman,” Demarcus said, pouring the remaining contents from his martini shaker to a glass and holding it up. “You’re nervous because you really like her and you want this date to go well. That’s why I brought this.”

  Quinn eyed the pink drink with distaste. “I don’t want to get drunk.”

  “It’s one drink, man,” Demarcus prodded. “It will settle your nerves. Do you want Rowan to think you’re a spaz? You’re risking exactly that if you don’t take a chill pill.”

  Quinn rubbed his chin. “Is that what the drink is, a chill pill?”

  Demarcus nodded. “It’s not enough alcohol to make you drunk. You need to calm down, though. You’re making me nervous and I’m not even the one who will be kissing you tonight.”

  Quinn balked. “Don’t say things like that!”

  “I could kiss you if you think it will make you feel better.” Demarcus winked, causing the corners of Quinn’s mouth to curl. “In fact, if you don’t taste my masterpiece, I’m going to chase you around this room until you do kiss me.”

  “See, now I know you’re trying to make me uncomfortable.” Quinn strode forward and grabbed the martini glass. “I’m not drinking this because I’m afraid of you trying to kiss me, so don’t spread that rumor.”

  Demarcus mustered a perfunctory nod. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Quinn glared at the pink liquid. “I’m drinking this because I might throw up otherwise and it’s freaking me out.” He downed the drink in two large gulps, slamming the glass on the table before resting his hand on his stomach. “Okay, now I might throw up for a different reason. That thing was straight sugar.”

  Demarcus leaned back in his chair, grinning. “It will settle in a second and you’ll be glad for it. Trust me.”

  Surprisingly, Quinn found he did trust the extroverted bartender. He couldn’t explain why, but there was something open and warm about Demarcus Johnson. He actually enjoyed spending time with the man. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Quinn turned back to the mirror and ran his hand over his short-cropped hair. It wasn’t long enough to style, which given the humidity today, was a good thing. “I’m ready.”

  “You look nice,” Demarcus said, nodding approvingly at the black shirt and cargo shorts. “Out of curiosity, where are you taking her?”

  “The seafood restaurant down on the beach,” Quinn replied. “She loves crab legs and they have the best in the area. I reserved a table on the deck so we could relax.”

  “That sounds like a plan.”

  “Yeah.” Quinn scratched his cheek as he glanced at the clock on the wall. He still had fifteen minutes before he had to pick up Rowan. “Maybe I should try another shirt.”

  Demarcus chuckled. “Knock yourself out, man.”

  “THIS IS A beautiful spot.”

  Rowan worked overtime to tamp down her nerves as Quinn pulled out her chair for her. She flashed a smile as she sat, thankful for the night breeze as it kissed her skin and cut down on the overpowering heat from earlier in the day.

  “I thought you might like it.” Quinn returned the smile, hating the way his heart thumped in his chest as he struggled to relax. There was a reason he didn’t date. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like getting to know someone. Heck, he didn’t want to know anyone. That’s what he always told himself, anyway. Of course, that changed when he met Rowan. He didn’t feel as if he could discover enough of her secrets … ever. The internal admission only made him feel more uneasy.

  Rowan flipped open her menu and scanned it, her stomach rolling when she saw the prices. “We’re both paying for our own meals, right?”

  Quinn cocked an eyebrow, surprised. It was only then that he realized she was just as nervous as he was. “No.” He shook his head. “This is a date. I’m buying dinner.”

  “But … it’s too expensive.”

  Quinn chuckled, the warm emotion attached to the sound allowing him the chance to unclench his fingers, which were busy holding the arms of the chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “I make more money than you,” he reminded her. “Besides, it’s a date. I’m not known for spending a lot of money so I have quite a bit put away. Don’t worry yourself about it.”

  Rowan nodded, although she wasn’t convinced. “Maybe I’ll just get a salad.”

  Quinn scowled, not bothering to wipe the expression from his face when the waitress approached.

  “Are you ready to order?”

  Quinn nodded, never moving his gaze from Rowan’s pretty features. “We’ll have a bottle of the house merlot. We also want two orders of the Thunder Bay Feast.”

  Rowan scoured the menu for the item in question, her mouth dropping open when she realized what Quinn had ordered. “You can’t be serious.”
>
  “Oh, I’m serious.” Quinn leaned forward and snagged the menu from her hand. “I’ve seen you eat. I happen to know you like everything in that entrée and they have big portions here, which is good for both of us.”

  “That’s a wonderful choice,” the waitress said, adopting a flirty smile as she swayed back and forth in front of Quinn. “Do you want soup or salad?”

  Quinn barely mustered a glance for the waitress, much to her chagrin, and instead remained focused on Rowan. “You can order that part yourself, right?”

  Rowan’s eyes darkened, but she flashed a grimace that resembled a smile and nodded. “I’ll have the salad with ranch dressing.”

  “I’ll have the same,” Quinn said. “We need water to go with the wine, too.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Rowan waited for the waitress to disappear to make her feelings known. “It’s too much. I have money back in my room. I’m going to pay you for my half of the bill when we get back.”

  “No, you’re not.” Quinn crossed his arms over his chest, squinting one eye as he regarded her. Strangely enough, the mere act of arguing with his date was enough to allow the unease to seep from his bones. “This is a date, Rowan. That means I pay.”

  “Only if you believe in antiquated sexual roles,” Rowan shot back, unruffled. “I don’t happen to believe in those roles, by the way. I believe a woman can do anything that a man can do … sometimes she can even do more.”

  Quinn’s lips curved as he grabbed a breadstick from the basket at the middle of the table. “Oh, yeah? Can you bench press two hundred and fifty pounds?”

  Rowan shrugged. “I have no idea. If I worked up to it, I’m guessing I could.”

  “Can you pee standing up?” Quinn smirked as he asked the question.

  “Yes. It won’t be hygienic, but yes. Can you have a baby?”

  Quinn opened his mouth to answer and then snapped it shut. “Hmm.”

  “Didn’t think of that, did you?”

  “I guess I didn’t.” Quinn grinned as he leaned forward, handing half of the breadstick to Rowan. “This is going to be fun.”

  Rowan widened her eyes, surprised. “It is? Wait a second … you’re getting off on the fighting.”

  “This is hardly what I would consider fighting,” Quinn corrected. “I am enjoying the conversation, though. In truth, I was a bit nervous earlier. I have no idea why. The fact that you decided to pick a ridiculous fight eradicated all of my nervousness, though, so thank you.”

  “It was not a ridiculous fight.”

  “Oh, it was ridiculous.”

  Rowan rolled her neck, exasperation wafting off of her. “You’re kind of a pain in the butt. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “More people than I can count on both hands.”

  “Well, you might want to take it to heart.” Rowan took a bite of the breadstick and sighed, munching it thoroughly before continuing. “I was nervous, too. It seems ridiculous because we’ve spent so much time together over the past two weeks, but … there it is.”

  Quinn’s grin had a magical effect on Rowan’s frayed nerves. “Well, you look beautiful. As for the nerves, something tells me we’ll get over them.”

  “Oh, yeah? How?”

  Quinn held his hands palms up. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

  Rowan realized what he was suggesting after a moment’s contemplation. They’d been getting to know one another for two weeks. This was merely a continuation of that. There was no reason to be nervous. “Yeah. Let’s find out.”

  TWO HOURS later Rowan stood in the shadow of the Bounding Storm, her sandals resting on a rock as she waded in the water and let the sand bunch between her toes. Her stomach hurt from laughing – Quinn was funnier than she gave him credit for – and she couldn’t remember ever being this relaxed on a first date.

  “It’s your turn,” she challenged, shifting toward him as he sat on the beach flipping through seashells. “What’s your favorite horror movie?”

  They’d asked each other a series of inconsequential questions over dinner before taking their game to a private spot on the beach. Quinn was thrilled with the meal, but the company was even better. They hadn’t done anything big and yet he knew he would never forget this night.

  “Jaws.”

  Rowan stilled. “Are you serious?”

  Quinn nodded. “I love that movie. It’s a classic for a reason.”

  “But … you work on a cruise ship,” she reminded him. “Don’t sharks frighten you?”

  “I don’t really give them much thought. Do they frighten you?”

  Rowan nodded without hesitation. “I dream about sharks a lot … weird dreams, where they come up from beneath the carpet and try to eat me in my bedroom and stuff.”

  “Really?” Quinn’s eyebrows flew up his forehead. “I’m betting a psychiatrist would have a field day with that admission. What do you think it means?”

  “That I don’t want to get eaten alive.”

  Quinn chuckled, delighted. “You have a very literal mind sometimes.”

  “I know.”

  Quinn lifted a shell so he could study it in the muted moonlight and then added it to a pile on his right. “What’s your favorite horror movie?”

  “The Shining.”

  Now it was Quinn’s turn to be surprised. “That’s a little darker than I was expecting.”

  “Oh, yeah? What were you expecting?”

  “I thought you were going to say something like Shaun of the Dead or Zombieland. You know, mix a bit of humor with your horror. I didn’t realize you liked serious horror movies.”

  “I do like horror movies.” Rowan pursed her lips as she hopped from one foot to the other, enjoying the way the water rushed around her calves. “My father was a horror movie fanatic and we used to watch movies together on the weekends quite often.”

  “Ah.” Quinn knew that Rowan’s father disappeared almost ten years before, leaving an orphaned girl on the cusp of adulthood to fend for herself. He had no idea what happened to the man – only that Rowan spoke fondly of him – but he was angry on her behalf. He wasn’t angry because the man was gone. Rowan believed he was dead and Quinn couldn’t help but agree. They simply hadn’t found his body yet. He was angry that she was left alone at such an impressionable age. She didn’t know it, but she was marked by the experience. It made her standoffish – apparently with everyone but him. “What about science fiction? Do you like science fiction?”

  “Like space movies?” Rowan wrinkled her nose. “Are you a Trekkie?”

  Quinn grinned, legitimately amused. “I like Star Trek. I wouldn’t call myself a Trekkie, though.”

  “What would you call yourself?”

  “Easily entertained.” Quinn dusted off his hands as he stood, taking Rowan by surprise when he offered her a seashell. “This is for you … to remember our first date.”

  Rowan watched as Quinn dropped the shell into the palm of her hand, smiling when she saw the delicate purple accents. “It’s beautiful.”

  “So are you.”

  Quinn’s response was simple and it caused Rowan to suck in a breath when she lifted her chin and found Quinn staring at her. They were close, their faces only inches apart. All Quinn had to do was lean in closer and press his lips against hers and then … .

  “What are you thinking?” Rowan felt breathless.

  “That this has been a great night.”

  “It has.” Rowan bobbed her head. “The shell is beautiful, but I didn’t need it to remember this night. I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to forget.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “Really?”

  Quinn nodded as he leaned a tad closer. “In fact … .” Whatever he was about to say died on his lips when the sound of sirens assailed his ears. He jerked his head up, years of military training taking over as he took a protective stance in front of Rowan.

  “They’re not coming for us,” Rowan said, resting her hand on his forearm. �
��They’re going down there.” Rowan pointed to a spot down the beach. It had to be a good half mile away, but since it was a clear night, no clouds in sight, the myriad of police lights were obvious in the darkness. “I wonder what they’re doing.”

  “I don’t know.” Quinn absentmindedly rubbed Rowan’s back as he pressed her body closer to his. “Let’s go back to the ship, though. It’s getting late.”

  Rowan acquiesced without complaint. “By the way, thank you for dinner.”

  Quinn pursed his lips as he dragged his attention away from the swirling lights and focused on his date. “Thank you for the new dress … and the conversation … and your smile.”

  Rowan was thankful that it was dark because she could feel her cheeks burning. “How did you know it was a new dress?”

  “It was just a hunch.”

  “Okay, well … shall we go?” Rowan held out her hand. She almost looked timid as she waited for Quinn to take it.

  “Let’s go.” Quinn’s hand was warm when it wrapped around hers. “So, you’re not a Trekkie, huh? How do you feel about Star Wars?”

  “I like the ewoks.”

  Quinn heaved out a long-suffering sigh. “Oh, woman, we need to talk.”

  3

  Three

  “How was your date?”

  Demarcus peeled himself away from the wall outside of Quinn’s room the following morning, causing the security chief to take an inadvertent step back as he struggled to control his confusion. He was still waking up and he needed a jolt of caffeine to jumpstart his weary mind.

  “Have you been waiting out here all night?”

  Demarcus snorted. “No. I decided to swing by before hitting breakfast.” He cast a sidelong look at Quinn’s closed door. “I’m taking it there was no action besides kissing, huh? That’s okay. You’ll get there.”

  Quinn made a disgusted face. “Not that I’m not happy to see you but … .”

  “Of course you’re happy to see me.” Demarcus waved off whatever Quinn was about to say with haphazard nonchalance. “Everyone is always happy to see me.”