As Tamara
leaned over the railing to peer at the Caribbean water a tear trickled down her
cheek. It paused at her chin, wobbled then dropped, mixing into the briny sea.
She dug a crumpled tissue out of her pocket, blew her nose, and sighed.
A toe-tingling
whiff of aftershave wafted past her nose. She recognized the fragrance, wood
smoke with a hint of evergreen. The intoxicating aroma belonged to the tall,
dark-haired, blue-eyed man she'd passed when the passengers boarded the
Northern Lights cruise ship. She'd also caught a glimpse of him in the audience
when she'd performed her evening's solo dance. His brilliant eyes appeared to
glow.
Tam gave her
head a shake. Don't be silly. Eyes don't
glow.
She stuffed
her tissue into her pocket and glanced at her cell phone. Her parent's text
still filled the screen. Sorry we missed
the boarding. Horrible snow storms. Hundreds of flights cancelled. We arrived
in time to watch you sail over the edge of the earth. Our first Christmas not
being together. Tears are forming. Must go. Love, Mom and Dad.
Tam's chin
trembled as her eyes filled with tears. It wasn't fair. It's Christmas.
Everything's supposed to be perfect at Christmas. A sigh filled her lungs, and
she released it with a hiccup.
"When
it's such a beautiful evening—dark sky, twinkling stars, soft tropical breeze,
why would anyone so beautiful be so sad?"
Tamara turned
towards the sound of the voice. Her gaze met the crystal blue eyes she'd
noticed in the audience. Her brain seized. Her vocal cords froze. Aware the man
standing before her was waiting for an answer, Tamara managed a weak shrug and
a loud sniffle. She lowered her head. Oh,
great. I look a mess. All red-eyed and snotty-nosed, and he's standing there
looking like a Dolce and Gabbana model. Kill. Me. Now.
She swiped at
a tear with her fist. He waved a handkerchief before her. She lifted her gaze.
A teasing smile crossed his lips, making her heart flutter. His bottom lip was
the biteable kind—soft, full and enticing. The one you want to slide your teeth
across. The handkerchief waved again.
"Uh, no
thanks…thank you." She snapped herself out of the fantasy moment and
fumbled through her pocket. "I have…uh...this." Glancing down, her stomach dropped at the
sight of the soggy, wet, white lump in the middle of her palm.
With the tips
of his thumb and index finger, he lifted the tissue from her hand and placed
the immaculate, white linen handkerchief on it.
An embarrassed
flush flowed from her toes to her nose. Tamara turned towards the sea. Filled
with curiosity, she snuck a peek over her shoulder. He was returning from the
nearest garbage bin, wiping his hands against each other as if to rid himself
of something disgusting.
Tamara gritted
her teeth. "Oh, this just keeps getting worse and worse."
He leaned on
the railing next to her. His eyes twinkled as a puff of ocean breeze nudged a
locket of hair onto his forehead. "What keeps getting worse?"
Oh, crap! I said that out loud. 
What's happening in December on Romance - Sweet to Heat
30 –
Weekend Writing Warriors #8Sunday
31 – Closed for New Years
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