Page 46 of Transatlantic Terror Cruise

Wes tips his head my way. “About an amateur sleuth getting an STD test on herhoneymoon?”

“It’s a very specific subplot,” I say and the words come out more like a question.

But judging by the unamused look in Ransom’s eyes, he is far more interested in some solid answers.

“Maybe we should go someplace and talk,” I suggest, and within seconds I’m shuttled out the door.

CHAPTER24

To say it was embarrassing to have Wes and Ransom walk in as soon as my results were read is an understatement.

It would have been less embarrassing to run across every deck of this ship in nothing but my birthday suit. And truthfully, I might have preferred it.

Soon enough, we step into the crew lounge down the hall.

I’ve never been inside, despite the fact I’m technically crew, and I’m pleasantly surprised by how spacious it is, not to mention the modern design and furniture. Just like everything else on theEmerald Queen,every inch of the crew lounge is luxurious through and through.

The signature fleur-de-lis pattern in the carpet is woven with colors of emerald and silver, there are a few marble bistro tables ensconced with leather chairs in a butter-soft cream hue, and mahogany panels line every inch of the place. A wall of windows offers endless ocean views, while hidden speakers pipe in jazz so smooth that a part of me wants to apologize for interrupting the tranquility.

“Trixie.” Ransom pulls me into his arms and bores those cobalt-blue eyes into mine. “Do you want to tell me what that was about?”

I open my mouth to answer, but Wes beats me to it with a chuffed laugh. “What do you think it was about, buddy?” Wes looks physically affronted that Ransom even had to ask. “Clearly she’s worried that your years of womanizing have come home to roost—in her body.”

I gasp hard.

The thought had never even crossed my mind! At least not today.

“My years of womanizing?” Ransom goes from glaring at Wes to wincing at me. “Fair point. And I have no defense to plead.” He gives a mournful sigh. “I’m so sorry, Trixie.”

Wes nods. “You should be.” He looks my way. “Trixie, I’ve spent years trying to warn him to stop treating women like a ride at an amusement park. I’m shocked prime body parts haven’t fallen off of him by now.”

Ransom is back to frowning at Wes. “I don’t remember asking for a commentary.” He inches back as he returns his attention my way. “Wait a minute—is this why you’ve been a bit standoffish?”

Wes gives a dark chuckle. “Your new bride has been standoffish? Oh, this is one for the record books. The great Ransom Courtland Baxter denied on his own honeymoon. How is that ego holding up, buddy?”

“Better than your face will once I’m through with you,” Ransom growls his way.

“No, no.” I jump in before fists can fly. “It’s not about you, Ransom.” I grimace for a moment. “Well, it is, actually, but not in that way.”

Ransom lifts a brow and his eyes double in size.

“I was worried that Stanton might have left me an unwanted gift that I may have unwittingly gifted to you by proxy,” I say. “But thankfully, he didn’t.”

Ransom gives a slow nod. “And that’s why you’ve been standoffish?”

I cringe. “Not exactly.”

Wes edges toward the door. “And I’ll take this as my cue to leave.”

“No, please stay,” I say, catching him by the sleeve. “You should hear this, too. Because there’s something else that’s made me standoffish. Something bigger—something very much supernatural.” I give a little shrug up at Ransom. “And her name is Titsiana Genevieve Forenza. She’s the ghost that’s come back to help me solve the case.”

“Titsiana?” Wes leans in like maybe he misheard.

I nod. “She goes by Tits.” Now it’s me wincing. “And she also goes by Sassy, thankfully.”

Wes chuckles to himself. “So let me get this straight.” He looks over at Ransom. “There’s a ghost named Tits who’s somehow keeping you from enjoying your honeymoon? I’m not sure where or how, but I’m sensing there’s a bit of cosmic justice in there somewhere.” He lifts a shoulder my way. “Sorry, Trixie. But when your husband beds half the female population, evidently the universe feels the need to get involved when it comes to retribution.”

“Maybe so, but she was Elvie’s assistant,” I explain to Wes. “She actually worked with her on the Luscious and Delicious cosmetics brand.” I look back up at Ransom and wince once again. “And, well, she just so happens to have a hankering for hanky-panky—as inours. Or more to the point, anybody’s, but we’re sort of front and center at the moment.”

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