Read Online Anchors Aweigh - 6 by Kathleen Bacus - Free Book Online

“I couldn’t stand the thought of being tied down back then.”
    “What do you do, Brianna?” I asked, already anticipating the answer. “For a living, that is.”
    “I’m a fitness coach,” she said. “I majored in health with a minor in nutrition. Played collegiate tennis until my hamstring gave out. How about you, Tressa?”
    “I’m a print journalist,” I told her.
    “Oh, really? Where did you go to school? U of I? I know they have an awesome writers’ workshop program there.”
    “Carson College,” I responded.
    “Oh.” She nodded, judgment evident in the look she bestowed on me. “I see.”
    “Tressa is the star reporter for The Grandville Gazette,” Townsend supplied. “But she’s become as famous for making the news as reporting it,” he said, smiling down at me.
    “I see,” Brianna said again.
    Right.
    “Listen, Rick, I’ve got a meeting to get to, but I’d love to get together later this evening and catch up,” Brianna said. She took a business card from her tiny purse along with a pen and scribbled something on the card and handed it to Rick. “That’s my cabin number. I should be done with the meeting by nine. Nine-thirty at the latest. Ring me up—or better yet, drop by if you’re free. I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been up to!”
    I had a sudden desire to go for her throat but settled for making a sudden grab at Townsend’s napkin still clinging to Brianna’s front. “Aaaah!” She gave a short scream and jumped back.
    “Sorry,” I said, holding up the napkin. “It didn’t go with the outfit,” I added.
    She gave me an uncertain look and Townsend another fierce hug, and then bounced off.
    I shook my head. Who did she think she was? Tigger?
    Townsend took his seat again.
    “And to think you were worried you might be lonely on this cruise,” I said, patting his cheek. (Facial variety.) “I’m thinking you’d better hit the casino, Townsend, because it looks like Lady Luck is smiling on you.”
    “I thought we were going to take a stroll around the deck and see where that takes us,” Townsend said.
    I pushed my plate away. “Sorry, me hearty. Your pickup lines were good, but not quite good enough,” I said. “Besides, you have a date with Brianna later. Remember?”
    “But I don’t want to spend the evening with Brianna,” Townsend said, getting up and sliding into the booth beside me and pasting his body to my side. “I want to spend it with Tressa Jayne Turner, ace cub reporter.”
    Oh, God. He sounded serious.
    “You do?” I asked.
    He nodded.
    Oh, holy shinola. He was serious! And what about me?
    I was skank city, that’s what I was. I was still wearing the clothes I’d had on that morning on the plane and on the shuttle. I’d worn them while I sweated up a storm waiting to get on the ship. Thanks to the hat I’d stuck on to hide my hair from hell, I’d bet pirate gold once I took it off I’d have a flattened ridge running the circumference of my head that on someone with silky, tame tresses like my little sister might be overlooked and forgiven, but on my crowning glory? Just the idea of Rick Townsend running his fingers through my minefield of a mane gave me intimacy nightmares.
    “I’ll need to, uh, freshen up,” I said, my voice unnaturally high.
    “Okay,” he agreed, his eyes focused on my lips. I prayed to God I didn’t have lettuce stuck between my teeth. “How long will it take?”
    I quickly calculated the time required for a shower, shave, lotion, makeup, and polish change. Then I added an hour to that for hair care.
    “I can be ready by eight,” I said, adding an additional extra ten minutes to talk myself out of it. “Yeah, eight’s good.”
    “Twenty-hundred it is,” Townsend said. “How about we meet for a drink in the Pirate’s Cove?”
    “Works for me,” I responded, finding myself staring at Townsend’s mouth.
    “And you won’t chicken out. Right?”
    I frowned. The guy was a mind reader. Or maybe not. I