The Christmas Romance Wish (Love, Laughs & Mystery in Coco Key #5)

Bonus Scene

You know the saying, “No risk, no reward,” or the one that’s like, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained?”

There’s also the quote, often attributed to Wayne Gretzky, “You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take?”

Actually, forget that one because the last thing I want to be thinking about right now are hockey players. Or one winger in particular.

I took a risk and I was not rewarded.

Nope, I was ridiculed, teased, and tormented.

What was it, you wonder?

Let’s see. Sadly, I’ll never forget it, so here goes. It was the kissing Jack Butler risk, which was years ago, but haunts me to this day.

Literally. Today. Right now. At this very moment.

I agreed to take my sister’s honeymoon cruise ticket on the Love Boat. Yes, that’s what it’s called. She and her new hubby revitalized the Driftwood Resort, got married, and then like the

weirdos they are decided not to go on the honeymoon they booked to tend to their burgeoning business.

I suppose it’s a resort, so it has an upside, but still. Hello? Honeymoon!

All too familiar with getting a new enterprise off the ground, I know the stress. Though mine is decidedly smaller, having converted an old beach shack into Beans & Books, my coffee,

chocolate, and book emporium.

I shouldn’t have accepted the ticket, not after I had to endure the wedding party with Jack by my side, walking down the aisle.

The entire time I imagined he was a book boyfriend: a kind, sweet, handsome man who’d swept me off my feet.

Granted, Jack is handsome with light brown hair, icy blue eyes, and a strong jaw.

Sigh. Yet another reason why I cannot forget him, even after all these years.

But little did I know he’d be here. On this boat. With me.

Do you understand how tragic and awful this is?

Boarding the ship this morning, I spotted my mortal enemy behind me on the gangway. I put on my oversized sun hat and glasses and haven’t taken them off.

The problem is there is no Mrs. Butler unless he eloped sometime in the last twelve hours.

No, like me, he’s flying solo on a couple’s honeymoon cruise, which can only mean one thing.

My sister hoodwinked me!

I’ve been tricked. Misled into thinking this was a sweet little getaway where the only hitch was that I had to pretend to be Isla McGregor.

I could deal with that with no problem. But I am not hitched to the person who has my companion ticket. No way. No how.

Make me walk the plank now.

But I couldn’t very well jump ship into shark-infested waters when I realized this unfortunate turn of events, but Isla is also going to hear it from me when I get back.

I’m certain she’s behind this deceit of epic proportions.

Isla, Jack, and I grew up together in New York. He and I met during Isla’s kindergarten birthday party and quickly became best friends. He kissed me under the pinata. At least, that’s how my sister remembers it.

I got the last cherry lollipop, and he tried to swipe it out of my mouth. At least, that’s what I told myself.

We became inseparable, and Isla often tagged along.

Then, in senior year of high school, as if realizing that our time was limited with me going to college to study law on the other side of the country and him being recruited to a state school hockey team, our friendship teased with something more.

We kissed.

It was my own and only kiss if that says anything.

You know when snow sparkles in the sun? When firelight dances in the night?

That’s how I felt with his lips on mine. In the following days, I glided as if on invisible ice. Nothing could melt my smile.

Not until I decided to stop by Jack’s house to surprise him before the graduation ceremony with his favorite NHL hockey player jersey.

Let’s just say it was questionable whether he’d graduate. I helped him study for finals. Mercifully, it paid off, and he was walking with the rest of our class.

Mrs. Butler told me he was in his room with a few of his friends. I was about to knock on the door and overheard my name.

Well, I heard him singing that stupid old tune, “Beans, Beans the magical fruit, the more you eat, the more you toot...”

My cheeks were red for the rest of the day.

Let’s just say I had an embarrassing moment I tried to forget about.

We were in seventh grade, at the height of puberty, and I accidentally passed gas while we were walking home from school. I didn’t think he’d heard it.

But that little ditty confirmed that he did and no doubt was telling his buddies all about the embarrassing moment and how kissing me probably smelled like farts.

I sniff the air. All I smell is cleaning products. I peer around the corner in the labyrinthine bowels of this cruise ship, then press myself against the steel wall.

A rivet digs into my spine and I wonder if anyone would notice if a lifeboat went missing.

Then the worst possible thing happens. “Robyn, I know you’re around the corner.”

His voice is deep and not quite gravelly. More like he chews on ice, but he doesn’t sound icy.

I’ll stop now because thinking about Jack’s voice does me no good. I eye the other end of the hall, prepared to make a run for it, but a happy couple traipses toward me, arm in arm.

They’re like a brick wall of newlywed love.

“I also know you’ve been avoiding me for the last six hours. However, I’m well aware that you’ll only be able to resist the Mexi-fan buffet for so long. They have queso.”

He once went to a hockey tournament in Texas and came back raving about queso. It took us three days until we finally tracked some down in New York and my life has never been the same.

“Queso, chips, maybe some guac,” Jack teases.

It’s not fair of him to tempt me with my weakness. Yes, I’m talking about the melted cheese dip and not him.

duh. Of course. The couple slows like they’re looking for their room.

I wonder where I can find a place to stowaway tonight because there’s no way Jack and I are sharing a honeymoon suite. I’ll sacrifice my suitcase full of belongings if I have to.

He says. “The upper deck with the water slide looks pretty fun.”

It’s more like a water park up there. He knows me so well. From around the corner comes the scent of the Rugged Ice soap he’s always used.

It must be formulated by an evil wizard because it does something to my brain that makes it all fuzzy and turns my vision into funnels of floaty-hearted adoration.

“We managed to make it through Isla and Royal’s wedding without—” He goes quiet and I’m not sure how to fill in the blank. Killing each other?

But that’s not quite it. He’s my mortal

enemy, but I don’t wish him harm. He’s been nothing if not, well, like he’s always been since we were kids—funny, playful, a tough hockey player on the outside and a cinnamon roll on the inside.

But that’s just it. I can’t trust a guy who’ll tease me behind my back and then be all sweet and normal, as if he didn’t sing the fart song to his friends about me. Can you imagine what he’d say in the locker room?

Jack exhales, and I realize he must be leaning against the wall just around the corner. I close my eyes, willing myself to finally have this confrontation.

I’ll never forgive him, but if we’re going to be trapped on this ship for the next six days, I suppose I can’t be hiding behind steam vents and lounge chairs all week.

But before I take off my oversized sun hat and sunglasses, revealing myself from around the corner, a woman says, “Ooh. Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt.”

“You weren’t. We’re just—” Jack says.

In a perky voice, she says, “I’ve worked on this boat for almost six years. I’ve seen more than one couple play hide and seek in these halls. And we all know how that turns out.” I imagine her winking.

“Oh, we weren’t—” he starts.

“In that case, tag. Whoever is it, has to kiss the other person.” She giggles.

“No, it wasn’t—” Jack says.

“Whatever little games you love birds play isn’t any of my business. But if you want to come with me, the captain of the Love Boat is officially welcoming everyone aboard.”

“Um—” Jack hedges.

“It’s not an option,” she says.

I start to slip down the hall, wanting nothing more than to get some sun, read one of the seven books I brought—one per day—and ignore the fact that I’m on a honeymoon cruise but am single.

“Not so fast, there, Mrs. McGregor,” she calls.

I go still. First, that’s my sister’s last name, but how did she know that? Second, does she have X-ray vision?

The hospitality employee and Jack appear from around the corner. Wringing my sunhat in my hands, I open and close my mouth.

“I saw you trying to make off so you and your hubby could continue your game.”

She points at a round mirror on the wall, likely so people don’t careen into each other in this narrow space with luggage carts.

“I wasn’t—”

“I’ve heard it all before. Now, you can’t miss this event—you agreed to our terms and conditions when you booked the cruise. But don’t worry, the rest of the activities are optional.”

She links our arms and marches us above decks.

Along with dozens of other couples, Jack and I take a seat on the main deck. The ship’s captain says a few words of greeting, followed by waxing poetic about the beauty and gift of holy matrimony.

With a pop, confetti cannons shower all of us with white, black, and gold sparkles—funny, those are the Empire State King’s team colors. That was Jack’s original team, but I heard he recently went to the Carolina Storm.

The hospitality coordinator, who tracked us down in the hallway, takes the microphone and introduces herself.

“I’m Daphne, the hospitality lead. If you need anything at all, please come to me and my team. We’ll be more than happy to assist you in making this your very best memory.”

“What’s more than happy mean, anyway?” Jack mutters, reminding me of our shared slightly cynical but completely comical view of the world, even though we’d both been through some hard times when we were kids.

Daphne continues, “Before we do the meet and greet, I want you to gaze lovingly into your spouse’s eyes—” Whatever else she says is lost because I’m not looking into Jack’s icy blue eyes.

Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I stare out to sea, wondering how quickly the Coast Guard would rescue me if a ship worker spotted a woman gone overboard.

After the spiel, Jack says, “Royal would hate this.”

“Isla would love it,” I mutter.

“Small world, that we knew each other and the bride and groom, huh?”

“More like the liar and deceiver. How do you know Royal, anyway?”

“College. So, they didn’t mention I’d be aboard?” he asks, hesitantly.

“What? No. Had they, I wouldn’t be sitting here.” I pout, wanting nothing more than to blow a full-blown tantrum. I’ve never done that, not even as a kid, but I could sure go for one right now.

His eyes widen, genuinely surprised. “You hate me that much, huh?” The hurt in his voice pinches something inside.

I fiddle with my sunglasses, not sure how to say what I want to say. “I don’t hate you, Jack.”

“You despise me, Robyn. That much is clear.”

I turn so quickly that I knock my sunhat onto the floor. “Don’t tell me how I feel. I know exactly what you think of me.”

“No, you don’t,” he says simply, no hint of defense in his tone.

I want nothing more than to slap that smug smile off his lips.

“I also know that things between us were getting intense, and you got scared.” He’s all confidence and all wrong.

“No, Jack Ambrose Butler. I did not get scared. I got upset. I heard you, Andrew, and Redmond in your room on graduation day, singing the fart song.”

He tips his head to the side as if thinking and then his lips quirk as if he holds back an amused smile. “You mean Beans, beans, the magical—?” Then his face falls.

Unbidden, tears spring to my eyes and I look away.

“Robyn, no. No, oh, no. Please. Hear me out. I didn’t, I wasn’t—”

Daphne interrupts from the microphone. “Okay, happy couples. Now, we’re going to pair off and make friends.”

“Since we’re not a couple, can we skip this?” I murmur.

“Remember third-period science in tenth grade?” Jack asks.

I can’t help the grin that spreads across my lips. “You mean when we—”

But Jack doesn’t wait for my reply. Instead, he takes my hand and then slides to the side of the meeting area before crouching and together we dash across the deck.

Not going to lie, having my hand in gives me a happy little jolt.

But I cannot imagine any world in which this turns out well.

“Daphne is going to track us down,” I hiss.

As if on cue, she calls after us.

Jack wears a wild grin, then gripping the sides of my face, he steps me backward so we’re partially out of sight in an alcove.

His ice-blue gaze flicks to mine. I’m hoping I have pure fire in my eyes. I want to be mad at him, but the guy stokes something in me that I’ve tried hard to extinguish.

Before I can tell him to get his grubby hockey-playing mitts off me, his lips are on mine.

The confetti that exploded over the newlyweds goes off in my mind once, twice, ten times.

If Daphne confronts us, trying to wrangle us back to the gathering, I don’t hear her.

The only sound is the beat of my pulse in my ears. My heart hasn’t throbbed like this since the last time Jack and I were in this exact position. However, this wasn’t part of the tenth-grade science class escape plan.

It was after his final game of the season. His last with our high school team.

I met him in the hallway outside the locker room, as usual. Freshly showered, he gripped his gear in one hand and his hockey stick in the other. That’s but one snapshot I’ve carried in my mind all these years,

because nothing but giddy love ricocheted between us.

As if realizing that and being the braver one, willing to do something about it, his gaze locked on me.

Marching toward me, he dropped his stuff, lifted his hands to my jaw, and looked into my eyes before I blinked out a yes of longing.

Now here we are again. In the same position, years later. The same flares of cold meeting hot form a synergy of desire that there is no denying.

He hesitates, whether listening for Daphne or silently asking whether I want to continue. I answer by giving back, by deepening the kiss.

A sound comes from his throat that tells me he’s enjoying this as much as I am and by the way my body involuntarily wraps itself around him, I’d argue that I like it a lot.

But a little voice in my brain scolds me, reminding me about the song I heard him singing all those years ago.

Pushing Jack back, I say, “What was that?”

The corner of his mouth lips and his eyes remain heavy as he shifts closer to me. “That was me telling you that you were wrong and I was right.”

I plant my hand on his very firm chest, holding him back. Another little voice in my head suggests I fist his shirt and pull his lips back to my mouth. “Explain that guy math for me.”

“I realize what happened. On graduation day, my mom told me you’d stopped by with a present. Thanks for the jersey, by the way, I still wear it under my uniform at every game.”

He looks slightly bashful, admitting that. “You heard me singing the Beans, beans, the magical—”

He goes quiet, mercifully sparing me from having to hear those words again in his voice.

“I guess it makes some sense you thought it was about you since Isla always called you Bean.”

I arch an eyebrow, wondering how he’s going to sweet talk his way out of this.

“Think back, Robyn. Did I ever call you Bean?”

I flip through my memories, feeling very righteous, but then it dissolves because he never called me that nickname.

Isla laid claim to it under penalty of one of her patented pinch-twists of skin that stung like the dickens.

“I thought Bean Butler would sound weird,” Jack says, suggesting he was thinking about a time in the future when I’d take his last name.

“That’s why you always called me Robyn?” I ask, hardly able to believe it...and begrudgingly admit that he’s right.

His eyes sparkle. “Yeah. That’s the truth.”

“Then why were you singing that song?” I ask, not quite ready to let it go.

“Because Andrew and Redmond farted at the same time like they’d coordinated it. In my room. Nasty. They’d had breakfast burritos, so...” He shrugs.

It checks out because they loved those bean burritos from the place where we tracked down the queso. The two of them were jokesters and total guys in that way.

“Then why didn’t you—?” But I can’t ask the question about why he didn’t reach out to me when I so obviously refused to talk to him.

Jack smoothes a piece of my hair behind my ear.

“Because I was afraid too. It was graduation day. We had summer and then we’d be on opposite sides of the country. If I let things continue, I feared it would be harder to say goodbye. And I felt rejected when you just dismissed me like that.”

“I’m sorry, Jack.” I don’t regret the plea in my voice.

“No, I’m sorry for not being brave. I mean, I did try to call you—”

“Ninety-nine times.”

“Literally. I also went to your apartment.”

“Twenty-one times.”

“Twenty-two. It was late one night, and I was afraid your Aunt Olga would come after me with a blunt object.”

I chuckle. “She was a force not to be reckoned with. Thanks for coming to her funeral, by the way.”

“Of course, I owed her the honor of letting us hang out.”

“I missed my best friend,” I say, taking a cue from Jack and being brave.

“Not a day has passed that I haven’t thought about you.”

“Can we pick up where we left off?” I ask.

Jack grins and leans in. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The walls of ice I’d erected between us so he’d keep his distance melts. The moat of fire I’d lit to protect myself goes out.

Jack leans into me and his fingers graze my jaw before brushing along my neck and down my back.

I slide my hands along the ridges of his muscles, hidden under his T-shirt. My breath is shallow. I dive into this kiss, giving new meaning to the word love boat.

I’ve loved Jack for as long as I can remember, and when he whispers to me, “I love you,

Robyn,” even though it’s not the first time he’s said it, I now know it won’t be the last.

“I love you too.” Then I curl into him, the kiss going deeper than the water beneath the boat and broader than the sky above.

When we part, I ask, “What are we going to tell Isla?”

Jack winks and says, “I have a plan. But first, let’s do that again.”

With a laugh, I say, “I’m only sorry this isn’t our honeymoon cruise.”

Smiling against my mouth, he says, “I think something could be arranged. Though I think we have to be on our best behavior with Daphne on the prowl.”

We laugh and I smile all over, as in love with this man as I’ve ever been.