He got up and offered me a hand, and I took it.
And that’s when the trouble began.
If this cruise had taught me anything med school hadn’t, other than the fact Tennessee Turner had no future in the travel business, it was that you could, in fact, have a three-hour erection without prescribed erectile medication.
Fine, five.
Six, but honestly, more like five-and-a-half.
Non. Freaking. Stop.
At first, I’d noticed her from across the pool, tiny pink bikini on her supermodel figure, tanning her ass.
There was not one man in the vicinity who didn’t drink her up with his eyes, until finally, every self-respecting woman in the area dragged her beau from that row of seats, leaving Tennessee completely alone and easy prey.
I’d watched from a safe distance, the majority of my blood concentrated between my legs and again wondered why she was so hard to avoid on a cruise ship the size of Long Island.
I’d planned to catch up on some medical journals, but the only thing I learned during the afternoon was that Tennessee Turner had zero bad angles.
Trust me—I checked.
Finally, a tatted fuckboy put some moves on her.
I’d studied her reaction closely. Word around town was that she was a hussy, but I had a zero-bull-crap policy and only believed what my eyes could see when it came to people.
And what I noticed over the years was that Tennessee not only actively blocked everyone’s advances, but she hadn’t been seen with a man since Robert Gussman.
I could tell by her body language that Tennessee didn’t appreciate her new admirer’s attentions. I struggled with staying out of the situation, until the asshole put his hand on her elbow.
I was there in half a second, shooed him away, and stuck around for the—wait for it—conversation.
Because, as it turned out, Tennessee Turner was pretty damn entertaining to be around. Or, at least, she didn’t blow smoke up my ass and treat me like I walked on water （although I didn’t doubt for a second she’d unceremoniously toss me off the ship just to be sure）。
She was the only person in Fairhope who saw past my shiny exterior, and I was curious to know what, exactly, she was seeing.
We made our way to our room. I carried her straw beach tote, grateful to have something to conceal my raging hard-on as she blabbered happily about the strategy we’d use for the open buffet we’d chosen for dinner.
She seemed to mistake a cruise vacation for a war, and was getting pretty animated about it.
“The poultry and meat section is always packed. The lines are terrible, I noticed yesterday. I suggest you stand there and get each of us double portions while I take care of the pasta and salads. Unless you want potatoes with your meat? I don’t know. I don’t think I can look at potatoes the same way since I started working at Jerry & Sons. Coulter has done some pretty dreadful things with them over the years.”
“I eat there every week, you know.”
She waved her hand to disregard me, something I found oddly endearing. Even her fingers were sexy.
“Nothing too unhygienic. Besides, you always order the BLT with a salad on the side.”
“Comforting.”
We left the elevator and rounded the hallway leading to our room. In the distance, I spotted two women dressed in management uniforms and a middle-aged couple talking animatedly.
“So how come you never looked for something else for work?” I asked.
“I’m not very bright.”
“Not many people are.”
Pointing out that she was smart, or at the very least more quick-witted and eloquent than anyone I knew, would be considered ass-kissing.
Plus, I had a feeling she wasn’t going to believe I saw her as a fully rounded, nuanced human being, no matter how fervently I pleaded my case.
“Fairhope is a small town. Not a whole lot of job opportunities.”
“They pop up every now and then.”
“Come on, Cruz. I appreciate it, I do. But people don’t like me, and it would be cruel to make me want to try.”
I was starting to get irritated, but I wasn’t sure if it was with her, with the town we lived in, or both.
“It’s a chicken and egg situation, Turner. No one knows what came first. You’re not even trying. Of course people think the worst about you.”
“Good. Let them.”
As we came closer to the couple and the management representatives, their voices grew louder. The middle-aged lady was crying and flinging herself against the wall dramatically, while her husband rubbed her back to comfort her, looking at a loss.