Making Waves Page 3

  She set the knapsack in the sand and looked back to see sailor boy with his hands on the back of the chair, clearly hesitating.

  “It’s okay, I’m not crazy,” Juli offered. “I just have my uncle’s cremated remains in my backpack.”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t you?” He sat down. “I’m Alex.”

  She extended her hand and felt a surge of pleasant heat as he grasped and shook it. Warm hands. When was the last time she’d had warm hands—or any hands, for that matter—on her body?

  She shook off the thought and smiled at him. “Juli,” she said. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  He looked around the bar and Juli tried not to fixate on how very green his eyes were. “This place is totally packed,” he said. “Figured it was smarter to sit down next to someone with reasonably good hygiene than to take a chance on sharing a table with a greasy sailor who hasn’t showered for a week.”

  “Are you always such a flatterer?”

  “I try,” Alex said with a slow smile.

  Juli felt her stomach flip, and she looked down at her drink, trying to get her bearings. “So what brings you to St. John?”

  Alex took a swig from a beer he’d brought to the table with him. Something dark that looked more like maple syrup than beer. “Just here with some business associates to take care of a little, uh—”

  “Business?”

  “Right.”

  “I’m scattering my dead uncle’s ashes at sea.”

  “I hear that’s what all the travel brochures suggest this year.”

  She smiled and started to ask him another question when a man with greased-back hair and a red silk shirt trotted out on stage. His microphone squealed in protest, then popped loudly as the man waved his hands to the crowd.

  “Hey, hey, hey! Welcome to the CoCo Bar, boys and girls. How many happily married couples do we have with us tonight?”

  There were a few whoops and shrieks from the crowd, along with some steely looks from people clearly not pleased with the interruption. Undeterred, the emcee plunged onward.

  “You know the drill, kids! It’s time for the CoCo Bar’s weekly Newlywed Game. A thousand dollars to our top couple tonight, so someone’s walking out of here with some nice pocket change. If you want to play, throw your hands in the air and our screener will come over and ask you just a few little questions.”

  The crowd’s enthusiasm was underwhelming. One drunk guy sitting alone in the front row put his hand in the air. Someone in the corner belched. Most of the other guests went back to eating coconut shrimp and sipping drinks with umbrellas.

  Juli looked at Alex. A thousand dollars? Even split two ways, that was a lot of cash. After the Feds had seized Uncle Frank’s assets, what he’d left her had barely covered her airfare down here.

  “Want to play?” she asked, taking a sip of her drink.

  He stared at her. “Hi, I’m Alex. We just met. I believe you’re confusing me with someone you’ve exchanged rings with.”

  “Don’t be a spoilsport, it’s easy,” Juli said, raising her hand. “You’ve seen how these things are played. We just need a system beforehand so we have a shot at picking the right answers.”

  “Are you nuts?”

  “No, are you married or here with a girlfriend or something?”

  Alex flinched. “No.”

  Interesting, Juli thought, and wondered if there was a story there.

  “Then there’s no problem here if you aren’t already attached,” she pointed out. “The first question is number one. That means if it’s a multiple-choice question, you go with the first one. If the answer has to be a random word, make it start with the first letter of the alphabet. If the answer has to be a number—”

  “Right, I get it,” Alex said, reaching across the table to pull her hand down. “I just don’t think we should—”

  “For the second question, we go with two. The answer is two or starts with a B or—”

  “Hey there, you two,” chirped a perky blonde in a pink halter top with a clipboard in her hands. Juli admired the product of several thousand dollars’ worth of plastic surgery, blinking against the blinding whiteness of the woman’s teeth. She rested her manicured hand on Juli’s shoulder and kept right on chirping. “We’re having a tough time getting volunteers tonight, so if you’re reasonably sane, you’re up. How long have you been married?”

  “We’re on our honeymoon,” Juli chirped right back, taking a sip of her drink. She stole a look at Alex, whose expression suggested he was dubious about the sanity requirement.

  “You know how this game works?” the blonde asked.

  Juli beamed. “Absolutely.”

  The woman turned her attention to Alex. “How about you, gorgeous? You ready to do this?”

  For a brief moment, Juli wasn’t sure what he’d say. Hell, she couldn’t believe she was roping him into it, but now that the ball was rolling, she didn’t want to stop. She gulped the rest of her drink and signaled the waiter for another, wondering if she’d be doing this without all the liquid courage.

  She looked at Alex and felt her stomach do a somersault of lust. Probably.

  He met her eyes, his expression unreadable. A thousand dollars, Juli mouthed, giving him her best smile. He shook his head and took a swallow of beer. Then he tipped the bottle at her.

  “Come on, honey. Let’s kick some ass.”

  ***

  Three weeks ago, Alex had been sitting in a stuffy office reviewing a fifty-six-page report on shipping export trends in East Asia. Now here he was, penniless and jobless, sitting on a lopsided stage on a Caribbean island, preparing to hijack a cargo ship as he faked marriage to a gorgeous—if slightly disturbed—woman whose last name he didn’t know.

  Funny the way life works.

  “Okay, boys and girls, let’s get started!” the emcee yelled.

  Alex turned around to look at Juli, who had been seated about ten feet behind him along with the other wives. She gave him a wifely little wave and blew him a kiss.

  Jesus. Why had he agreed to this?

  Because she made him laugh. Because she had those big blue eyes that reminded him of the color of water near the Whitsunday Islands off the Australian coast. Because he wanted to twist his fingers up in those crazy, sandy curls that looked like someone had chased her around a fun house with a blow-dryer. He felt his libido lunge, and he turned away from her so he wouldn’t embarrass himself onstage.

  “Okay, audience, we’ve already met the contestants, now let’s get started. Gentlemen, here’s your first question: What is your wife’s favorite movie?”

  Shit, Alex thought. Something that starts with the letter A. Anaconda, An Officer and a Gentleman, Alien, Ass Pirates III—

  This would be a helluva lot easier if they’d exchanged more than twelve words of conversation before pledging eternal devotion. Behind him, Alex could hear the squeak of markers on paper as the wives wrote out their answers.

  “Time’s up, ladies. Gentlemen, let’s hear your answers. We’ll start with Bob from Texas.”

  Bob from Texas mistakenly believed his wife’s favorite move was Sweet Home Alabama, when in fact she preferred Sleepless in Seattle. Harry from London was certain his wife fancied The English Patient, but Sarah actually liked Citizen Kane. Then it was Alex’s turn.

  “American Graffiti,” Alex guessed, then turned to look at Juli. She held up her little notepad and flashed him a smile that made him forget his name.

  “No, I’m sorry Alex, looks like Juli enjoys Animal House.”

  Alex raised an eyebrow, but she just shrugged and blew him another kiss. Alex tried to ignore the surge of warmth that went buzzing through his body.

  “Okay, switch seats now, ladies with your backs to the men. Ready? This question is for the wives. What is your husband’s most prized possession?”

  Alex stifled a groan. A relatively simple question for a couple with more than fifteen minutes of history together. For two strangers restricted to the letter
B, not so simple.

  Boat, thought Alex, and wrote it on his notepad.

  “Okay, ladies, let’s hear your answers, and we’ll see how well you know your husbands.”

  Apparently Susan from Texas didn’t know Bob from Texas as well as expected. She thought he valued his four-wheeler more than anything, but Bob was more fond of his wife’s boobs. Not a bad answer, thought Alex, resisting the urge to crane his neck and admire Juli’s cleavage. What was she wearing under that little pink dress? He thought he’d caught a glimpse of something white and lacy when she’d leaned forward earlier, but maybe if he looked again—

  Shit. Alex felt the blood leaving his brain again and forced himself to concentrate on the other couples’ responses about favorite possessions.

  Sarah thought Harry favored his Porsche, when in reality he preferred his Mercedes. Rough life, thought Alex, trying not to think about his lost pension, all the money he’d sunk into his boat, and those damn stocks that had gone belly-up.

  Focus, he told himself, and got ready for his turn.

  “Juli, can you tell us Alex’s most prized possession?”

  “Well, he really loves his sailboat,” Juli said. “Out there sailing all the time. I can hardly get him to come home for dinner when the weather’s nice. I’m going to go with that.”

  She turned around to grin at him, and Alex almost fell off his chair. He held up his notepad, trying not to look so stunned. The audience went nuts.

  Lucky guess, she mouthed.

  No kidding.

  Alex just shook his head, marveling at their dumb luck.

  “Great job, you guys! Switch places again, and here we go. Gentlemen, where is your wife’s favorite place to be kissed?”

  Shit, Alex thought, his mind churning through half-a-dozen words that started with C—most of them wildly inappropriate to suggest to an audience of strangers and his wife of fifteen minutes. Behind him, Alex could hear the markers squeaking.

  Cranium, clavicle… um—

  “Time’s up, pens down, ladies.”

  Alex felt the back of his neck growing hot. Bob and Susan struck out again, but Harry and Susan both went with lips. Very vanilla, Alex thought, still struggling to formulate a response of his own. Then he heard his name. He pictured the sexy neckline of Juli’s dress and blurted out the first word that came to mind.

  “Collarbone,” he said.

  He turned and looked at Juli. She held up her little notepad and gave him a coy smile. “Such a sexy place to be kissed,” she said.

  “Collarbone it is!” the emcee shouted. “Nice work, you two! Okay, Alex and Juli are in the lead with two, Harry and Sarah have one, and Bob and Susan—well, you have a little trouble in paradise, it seems! Okay, folks, switch seats again. If Juli and Alex get this, it’s game over for the rest of you. If they miss it and Harry and Sarah don’t, we’ll go to a bonus round. Ready? On a scale of one through ten, rank your husband’s performance in the sack.”

  Alex grinned, resisting the urge to dance with joy. An easy response, thanks to Juli’s system. Had to hand it to her, she’d been smart to think of it. They had it in the bag! He grabbed the pen and started to write.

  Then he frowned.

  Not a very flattering number. Not flattering at all. He hesitated.

  A thousand dollars, he thought. Shit.

  He scribbled a number on the page.

  The emcee came down the row again, this time revealing that Bob and Susan both thought he was a perfect ten. Great, thought Alex, listening to Harry and Sarah argue about whether Harry was a nine or a ten. Then it was Juli’s turn.

  “It’s been a rough year for us, what with Alex working late all the time and the doctor making some changes to his cholesterol medication,” Juli said with a sigh. “I’m going to have to say four.”

  Alex turned and shot her a look, but Juli just winked at him. Sorry, she mouthed, not looking sorry at all.

  Alex grimaced and held up his notepad. Four it was. The audience went crazy.

  “Congratulations, you two, you’re the winners of our thousand-dollar prize!” the MC hooted. “Maybe you can use the money for a little, uh, marital therapy!”

  But Alex wasn’t listening to him. He was out of his seat, grabbing Juli up into a giant bear hug. He picked her up off the ground and swooped her around, feeling very husbandly all of a sudden.

  “For the record,” she whispered, “I don’t really think you’d be a four.”

  Alex set her down and looked at her, feeling warm and a little light-headed. “For the record,” he said, “I could think of better places to kiss you than your collarbone.”

  ***

  Alex wasn’t sure how many mai tais his lovely bride had consumed, but he figured liquid courage had something to do with getting her up on that stage.

  The gentlemanly side of him wanted to be sure she made it safely back to wherever she was staying. The not-so-gentlemanly side of him just wanted a five-minute walk to watch her breasts move under that dress. Figuring his two sides canceled each other out, he escorted her to her hotel to divvy up the cash.

  Juli pushed the door open and led the way into the room. “This is the best honeymoon I’ve ever had.”

  Alex hesitated, then followed her in, trying not to stare at the bed. Or to think of tossing her backward onto it. “You’ve had several honeymoons?”

  “None, actually,” she said. “I was just being polite.”

  “You’ve never been married?”

  His tone sounded more incredulous than he meant it to, and he could tell by her expression he’d said the wrong thing. He opened his mouth to tell her how pretty she was, how surprising it was she’d never married. Then he stopped himself, knowing that was a stupid thing to say.

  Not like you’ve ever tied the knot yourself, asshole.

  And the mere fact that he was giddy over a measly five hundred dollars was a good reminder of why he’d never made it to the altar way back when.

  Broke and alone, he reminded himself. Jenny was right about that.

  He watched as Juli set her knapsack on the table and counted out half the cash. She handed him his portion and unzipped an outer pocket on her knapsack. She stuffed the bills inside and closed it, then fumbled with the zipper on the main compartment. Alex studied her hands, her fingers long and narrow with lovely, rounded nails. He pictured her raking them down his back and turned away, focusing his attention on an ugly oil painting of a mermaid.

  Nice rack on the mermaid. Not as perky as Juli’s, but—

  He shook his head and turned away from the mermaid. Dammit, he had a mission to focus on. He was a pirate. He was stealing his life back.

  “Nice job with the game, honey,” she said, nudging him with her elbow.

  “Thank you dear,” he replied, nudging her right back. “How on earth did you get boat and collarbone?”

  “You look like a sailor, and we’re on an island, so that one was easy. And you seem like a gentleman, so that ruled out most answers I could come up with that started with C. Dumb luck though, really.”

  “Sounds like more than just luck. You deduced a lot in the first fifteen minutes of our marriage. You’re very perceptive.”

  “That’s what my shrink says.”

  He couldn’t tell if she was joking or not, so he said nothing.

  Juli smiled at him. “Really, thanks for being a great sport. I needed the cash. I’m sort of between jobs right now.”

  “Yeah? What is it you do?”

  Juli looked away, suddenly very interested in adjusting the zipper on her knapsack. “Oh, this and that.”

  “You said you just left a job?”

  “Right. Marketing.”

  “Okay,” Alex said, getting the sense there was more to Juli’s job situation than she was letting on. Not that it was any of his business. He decided to change the subject. “Anyway, I was glad you suggested the contest. It was fun, and I could use the five hundred dollars right now too.”

  “Glad it
worked out.”

  Alex watched as she chewed her bottom lip, clearly disengaged from the conversation. “Something wrong?” he asked.

  She looked up at him, panic evident in those big blue eyes. She shrugged. “I booked this charter boat trip tomorrow, and I’m really nervous.”

  “You don’t like the ocean?”

  “The ocean’s okay. It’s drowning I’m not particularly fond of.”

  “Try not to do that then.”

  “Thanks. You’re a lot of help.”

  Juli finally got her pack open and pulled out the most hideous urn Alex had ever seen in his life. Gaudy, orangey brass was adorned with mutant-looking dolphins and little pieces of something that looked like seashell. The lid was fashioned in the shape of an anchor.

  “What the hell is that?” he asked.

  “Uncle Frank.”

  “That’s Uncle Frank’s final resting place?”

  “Of course not,” Juli said, polishing the top of the urn with the hem of her dress. “The bottom of the ocean is his final resting place. This is just the taxi that’s getting him there. He picked it out himself before he died. Look, it’s even got this cool switch on the bottom to open it.”

  “Right,” Alex said, edging toward the door. “So listen, Juli—I’ve got a big day tomorrow. It’s been fun being married to you though.”

  She grinned and set the urn down.

  “For a temporary husband, you’re not too bad. It was great meeting you.” Then she stood on tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  Alex knew it was supposed to be sweet and platonic. Nothing his libido should respond to at all.

  His libido had other ideas.

  Alex slid his hands down her bare arms and felt her shiver under his palms. He held her there for a moment, drinking in the scent of her, waiting to see if she’d pull back. She stilled under his hands, her breath warm against his cheek.

  He moved his hands around her back, pulling her closer. She gave a soft little gasp and raised her arms to lace her fingers behind his neck. Her face was scant inches from his, her breath coming faster now.

  Then she tipped her head back, bringing her lips close to his as she smiled up at him. “So you want a chance to upgrade your score?”

  Alex brushed his lips over hers. “It’s only fair, considering we never got a honeymoon.”