When Petty Officer Jordan Somerton stepped onto the lido deck of the cruise ship Summer Seas, he’d have gladly given a month’s salary to be on land.
That wasn’t something he usually thought. Not after almost ten years in the navy, eight of those as a SEAL. Sea. Air. Land. It didn’t matter to him on any given mission. He was comfortable in any and all.
Only this wasn’t a mission. And he wasn’t aboard a naval ship.
“Jordan!” his aunt Phyllis called from the starboard side of the hardwood deck. As she waved her hand, enough bracelets to sink a liner half this size jangled around her wrist. He wasn’t usually called Jordan by anyone but his family. His team called him River. As in the Jordan River.
But he didn’t think he could avoid Aunt Phyllis by pretending he didn’t recognize his own name. Not with her eyes on him like a laser. So he smiled at her and circled around the outskirts of the crowd, his back always to the wall, facing the collection of Somertons and Sutcliffs mingling around the pool.
A ship with a pool. What a waste of space.
But Aunt Phyllis didn’t seem to agree. She shuffled over, dragging his youngest cousin, Stephanie, in her wake.
“Hi, Steph,” he said, leaning down to hug her shoulders and kiss the top of her head. Even though she had just graduated from high school, their standard greeting seemed fitting since he’d spent most of his growing-up years living with them. “How’s college?”
She shrugged, but it did nothing to dim the smile on her lips and her flashing white teeth. “Okay.”
Phyllis pouted. “She met a young man and wants to go to his house for Christmas.”
Stephanie’s eyes bugged out. “Mo-om!”
Jordan tried not to laugh, but Stephanie’s face was just too good to hold it back. “Sorry, kiddo. Welcome to being an adult single in this family. I wish I could tell you it gets better.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t.”
She glanced toward the corner of the pool, where Stephanie’s sister and her fiancé stood, hand in hand, staring into each other’s eyes. A little too in love for his taste.
“But they never teased Kaneesha.”
“It’s because she’s been dating Rodney since they were thirteen. Everyone’s known this week was coming forever.” He just hadn’t been planning on their wedding taking place on a cruise ship somewhere in the middle of the Caribbean a week before Christmas. “Just wait until you bring a guy home.” He rolled his eyes. “I can’t wait to see that!”
Phyllis was already frowning, clearly picturing her baby walking down the aisle. Suddenly her eyes shifted in Kaneesha’s direction. “Speaking of bringing a date to family dinner...”
Her voice trailed off and his stomach hit the deck. Rodney, in his sharp gray suit, took a step to the side as a third person joined them.
Amy Delgado. Long brown hair flowing behind her. Full skirt dancing around her knees in the ship’s breeze. Bright pink lips curved in an overflowing smile.
Words failed him.
She was stunning. And he would have noticed that, with or without the elbow to his ribs from Phyllis. He grunted. She pouted.
“I can’t believe you let that one get away.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah. He knew. He’d botched that. Badly. And he didn’t blame Amy for hating him.
The broken date hadn’t been entirely his fault. He’d blame that on the Lybanian terrorist who had suddenly popped out of hiding and tried to take over an otherwise peaceful village where a slew of American aid workers had set up shop. When the US government called on him to do his job, he’d done it. Even if it meant breaking a date he’d kind of been looking forward to.
But the lead-up to it—the before-the-date misunderstanding in front of his entire family that had required an apology date—that was all on him.
He was lost somewhere in the memory when Neesha waved at him. “Come over here.”
No. That was a bad idea. Because Amy was staring at him now, too. And putting the two of them together never ended well. But when the bride called, he’d go running.
“Neesha, you look beautiful.” He greeted her with a kiss on the cheek before shaking his soon-to-be cousin-in-law’s hand. Then he shoved his own into the pocket of his black slacks.
But his cousin wasn’t about to be so easily mollified. She stared at him like a sniper’s spotter, her gaze intense and lips in a stern line. He made a silly face, hoping to distract her from that frown before Aunt Phyllis saw it.
The bride should always be smiling, she’d scolded him before they left the port in Miami. So I don’t want to hear a word about how much you hate cruise ships. Understood?
Yes, ma’am, he’d said, because any good South Carolina boy knew better than to argue with the woman who had raised him without complaint since he was six.
But his faces didn’t do a thing to change Kaneesha’s grumpy expression or alter her reproachful tone. “Amy said you haven’t practiced your dance yet. You know all of the bridesmaids and groomsmen are joining us for the second dance, and I don’t want it to be your first time dancing together.”
He met Amy’s dark brown gaze over Neesha’s shoulder. Though her eyes said she wasn’t particularly pleased to see him, she still mouthed an apology for landing him in hot water. It was quite possibly the first time she’d ever apologized to him. He was the one with all the practice in that department. But he wasn’t fooled into believing that this meant they were on the same team. In fact, he was pretty sure they were playing different sports. And whatever this was, he was perpetually three steps behind.
Between Amy’s cold shoulder and his family’s nagging, he knew there was no chance he was getting away from this trip without making everyone mad at him, one way or another. That’s why he’d prefer being in the field. At least then he had a clear objective—and a team to back him up if he ever got in over his head.
“Are you even listening to me?”
He jerked his mind back to his cousin. “Of course I am.”
Kaneesha narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Uh-huh.” Jordan’s attention shifted back to Amy. The gold highlights in the navy blue dress made her deep brown skin glow, and the highlights in her wavy hair shone in the late-afternoon sun.
“It’s good to see you, Amy.”
She nodded, the briefest acknowledgment. Then asked, “How’s Will?”
Of course she’d ask about his SEAL teammate. She’d been friends with Will Gumble for years. The fact that she’d barely acknowledged Jordan’s status as anything more than a barnacle on the hull of a ship meant they hadn’t progressed past prolonged apologies.
“He’s fine. Jess is about to pop. Will’s pretty excited about being a dad.”
She offered a flicker of a smile. He knew she still took credit for getting Will and Jess back together after ten years apart. And he had to give Amy credit. As a DEA agent, she’d been able to get Will