Iâd been loopedâIâm one of those people who gets fog-brained on cold medicineâbut not that looped.
âAn airport hotel. Tomorrow morning weâll cab over to the cruise port, board the ship. Thatâs when the real work begins.â He snatched a room service menu from a side table, gave it a three-second glance, then passed it to me. âItâs half-past eight and I havenât eaten since morning.â
Come to think of it, neither had I. âI could stand a little something.â Like a big, juicy cheeseburger and a plate of fries smothered in brown gravy. I settled on a mixed salad and bottled water with lemon. After seeing Archâs body, I was more than a little self-conscious about my soft spots. Tomorrow I might even do aerobics. Gag.
He shifted back to his laptop, closed the file heâd been working in and shut down. âYou want a sandwich with that salad?â
Yes. âNo.â
âHung over?â
No. âYes.â Sort of. Mostly, I wanted to tone up overnight. Like that was going to happen. But, hey, thatâs what I do. Dream. Imagine. Pretend. According to my mom, my free spirit was at the root of all my problems. If Iâd gone to college like my brother, I would have had a teaching degree to fall back on. Instead, I was looking at life as a gorilla.
âWhy dinnae you shower?â Arch said as he moved toward the phone. âChange into something comfortable?â
âAs in skimpy?â The notion appalled and intrigued me. Talk about confused.
His lips twitched. âWould you be comfortable eating dinner and going over your character profile in your bra and panties?â
âAre you asking Sugar or me?â
âYou.â
âThen, no.â
â Didnae think so.â
His cocky grin liquefied my bones. Wow. Instead of melting into a puddle, I dropped to my knees and popped the latches of Big Red.
Arch chuckled and reached for the phone. It chimed, which was weird since he was calling out. He replaced the receiver and snagged a cell phone off the desk. âYeah?â
He really needed to work on his greetings.
âAre you mental?â He jammed a hand through his damp waves. âBugger off, mate. Itâs too late.â
I tried not to listen. Okay. Thatâs a lie. My curiosity kept me from discreetly escaping into the bathroom. I dawdled over my suitcase, located my toiletry bag and picked through my loungewear.
âWhy dinnae we leave it up to Evie?â
I froze at the sound of my name, looked up just as Arch reached down and handed me his phone.
My skin sizzled from his touch, brief though it was. Without a word he settled on the bed, kicked backâankles crossed, hands behind his head. Like me, I guess he intended to eavesdrop.
Heart pounding, I sat back on my heels, pressed the cell to my ear. âYeah?â Lame greeting. An Arch greeting. But the best I could manage since I didnât know who was on the other end of the line.
âDo not get on that ship with Arch.â
Michael. âWhy not?â
âI made a mistake, hon. Come home.â
My stomach knotted. I broke into a clammy sweat . Donât puke. Donât puke. Was he talking about Sasha? Suddenly, after a year of hootchy-kootchy with Miss January of the Beach Hut Babe calendar, he wanted to reunite with me? Insane hope surged through my blood. âWhat are you saying?â
âYouâre not up to this job.â
Good thing I was sitting, otherwise, my knees wouldâve buckled. I clenched my jaw, cursed the dreamer in me and willed my heart to keep beating. âWhy not?â
âFor one you get seasick.â
âI have Dramamine.â I wish I had a pill to cure me of you.
âI donât trust Arch.â
âI donât trust you. But we still work together. Sort of.â
Dead air.
He was probably trying to formulate an excuse for my lack of bookings without targeting my age.