Sea Breeze

Sea Breeze

Jennifer Senhaji

Published by Jennifer Senhaji

Copyright 2015 Jennifer Senhaji

Editing and Layout by Patricia D. Eddy

Cover Design by Melody Barber, PageCurl Publishing and Promotion

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Author does not own any rights to music mentioned in this book.

Also by Jennifer Senhaji

Sunset Dreams Series

Sweet Dreams

Choosing to Dream coming in 2015

Disguising Love Series

Angels in Disguise (originally published as part of the Unwrapping Love Holiday Anthology)

Praise for Sea Breeze

Sea Breeze is a short, sexy read that will have you rooting for the brave heroine out to find herself after tragedy turns into relief.

Ashlynn Pearce, author of the DirtSlap Series

Ready for some sun, sand, and surf? Jennifer Senhaji’s writing takes you there. Amazingly well done.

Tami Lund, author of the Tough Love Series

Dedication

For all the wannabe world travelers

Chapter One

I
’m stuck. I don’t know where I’m going, but things can’t stay the way they are. So, I’m boarding a ship, and using this fourteen-day trip to figure out what I’m going to do with my life now.

No, I’m not some fifty-something divorcée in the middle of a mid-life crisis. That’s the sad part. I’m twenty-five, single, living and working in Vegas. I’ve never been in love, and never been anywhere. I live this blah existence, schlepping drinks, dodging losers. Nothing ever changes. Until recently.

I don’t believe in fate or luck, so it all comes down to me. That’s why I’m taking this trip. Well, that and my coworker, Kim, had an extra ticket. Her “boyfriend” bailed, and I was her shoulder to cry on. She’s supposed to meet up with friends. They’ve organized this trip as some kind of high school reunion. In any case, I’m taking advantage of the offer. We’re not close, we’re not really even friends, but I need this, and I wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity to finally get away.

I’ve never left Nevada. Don’t get me wrong, the desert is beautiful. But... I want— I don’t know what I want, but I’ll be gazing out at the Caribbean while I try and figure it out.

I’ve never been this close to the ocean before.
What the hell have I been doing with my life?
After almost five hours on a plane, my first time
ever
on a plane, I’m hungry, and my back aches. I stretch in every direction hoping to alleviate the pain from the knots that have formed.

“Holy shit, this thing is huge, Kim.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Ha-ha.” I roll my eyes. Holding my hand over my face, I peer down to the end of the boat. “How big is this thing?”

“This thing is the
Stella Maris
. She has eighteen decks, holds six thousand guests, and twenty-five hundred crew members.”

Holy crap. The Hard Rock Hotel only has 670 rooms. This is like a city on the water.

We make our way onto the ship and find our cabin. For such a big ship, this room is tiny. Like I-can-make-it-across-the-entire-double-room-in-five-steps tiny. “Interior Stateroom” had sounded so big in the brochure.

There’s a six-page brochure with the itinerary on my bed. Six pages for—today?
Holy Jesus.
I’m overwhelmed. My eyes glaze over as I scan the section entitled “Important Things to Know Today,” and I fall back on the bed while Kim sends text messages to her friends to find out what rooms they’re in.

The luggage will be delivered at some point today. With six thousand guests, who knows how long that will take? I put the ship map and book of “Important Things to Know” in a courier bag around my shoulders and walk out the door, noting my room number and that I’m on Deck Seven. I’ll wander until I’m required to present myself for the mandatory safety drill in an hour. I doubt Kim even realizes I’m gone.

I want to stretch my legs, so I venture out from the center of the ship to find the outside deck. I pass a rock wall, and make a mental note to conquer it at some point during the trip.

On Deck Five, I find what I think is the main shopping area. I stop at Starbucks—who knew they’d have a Starbucks on a ship?—and order a tall drip coffee with room. As I add my cream and Stevia, my gaze wanders over to the extremely handsome guy in shorts, sneakers, and a plain white T-shirt ordering a coffee to go. He gives the barista a fist-bump and comes toward me. Tall, handsome; nice forearms.

“Need a little coffee for your cream?”
Doh. I meant “cream for your coffee,” damn it. Smooth. Real smooth.

“Good morning. No, some sugar please. Can you hand me a couple? Thanks.”

“It’s not really morning anymore. It’s almost two o’clock in the afternoon. Are you just getting up?”

He smiles at me over the rim of his sunglasses. “The life of a bartender.” A flutter tingles my stomach at the sight of his smile, but then my ears catch up with my brain. He said “bartender.”
Damn it.

“Ah. Enough said.” I pull my sunglasses down over my eyes, place a lid on my coffee, and head in the opposite direction as fast as I can.

Chapter Two

B
y day two, I’m thoroughly confused by the itinerary. There’s so much to choose from. I need to map out all of my activities or I’m going to miss something great. It looks like I’ll be on my own for most of this trip. Kim has found her group of friends, and I’ve been left to my own devices. It’s okay. I wasn’t expecting us to become besties or anything. Means more time for me think about... My chest tightens.

It’s about three o’clock in the afternoon and the salt on my upper lip is evidence of the humidity. I’m used to dry heat. Not wet. Wiping my brow against the shoulder of my T-shirt, I make my way toward the pool deck, contemplating if I should go back to my room to get my suit.

Laziness wins out, and I snag a stool at the Epic Surf Bar. My view overlooks the two wave pools: one for surf boards and one for boogie boards. Maybe I’ll try my hand at it. I’ve always wanted to learn how to surf, and the lifeguards on both sides make it look so easy.
Yeah, I could do that
.

“What’ll it be?”

“Sea Breeze, Stoli, please. Heavy on the grapefruit.” My eyes are trained on the surfers, not the bartender, as they effortlessly ride the waves.

“Coming up.”

One of the guys, who could be a model for Abercrombie, slides off his board with ease, and a male passenger in his twenties steps up to take his place. I glance behind me, quickly finding my drink on the bar. I take a long pull of the cool, refreshing liquid as New Guy steps onto the board, and immediately takes a nose-dive face-first into the water with a thud.

“I’m surprised there’s not more blood in the water.”

The comment causes my grapefruity bliss to spew out of my mouth. I witness the manufactured wave carry the poor soul up to the back of the pool and down again, while the lifeguards struggle to yank him out of harm’s way. Maybe I should hold off on my surfer girl dreams for a bit.

I turn to grab a napkin and seek out the voice. A tanned forearm wipes down the bar next to my drink. It’s attached to a broad chest, covered in a red lifeguard T-shirt that stretches and shifts over perfectly-toned biceps and shoulders. At the top of this masterpiece is a face—wait a minute. I know that face. That’s the preppy bartender I met yesterday at Starbucks.

“Blood? Do people knock out their front teeth doing that?” I allow myself a moment to admire his chiseled jawline.

“Mostly bumps, bruises, an occasional broken nose. When the kids ride, they seem to come out of every fall unharmed. It’s the adults who think it looks easy that end up hurting themselves.”

“Right. I’ll remember that and stay away.”

He stops wiping and leans one arm on the bar. With a crinkle above his dark brows, he asks, “Do I know you?” His chocolate-colored eyes search mine, and my brain goes fuzzy for a second.

“Coffee.”

“You want a coffee?” He looks confused, considering the drink in my hand is still half full.

“No, I mean, we bumped into each other yesterday while getting coffee.”

“Right. What’s your name?” It’s so practiced, his smile.
Typical
. I’ve seen it a million times.

My shoulders straighten. “Not interested.” I sip my drink and turn back toward the wave pool to see if they’ve extracted the poor man. Undeterred by the previous victim, a larger woman, probably in her mid-forties, is next.
Oh dear Lord, are they actually going to let her try and get on that thing?