Page 27 of Too Far To Sea
9
She’d overdoneit in Galway. Dana tightened the wrap on her ankle. She used the room phone to call room service and request ice. Then she dialed guest services to cancel her ticket on tomorrow’s excursion to the castle.
As she hung up the phone, she realized she was tearing up. Not from pain. Frustration.
The castle excursion was the only one she had booked for herself. It wasn’t part of Cheyanne’s group plans.
Stupid romance books. Viscounts, dukes, milk maids, princesses in castles, and knights in shining armor. Fairy tales in Irish castles didn’t happen, so she shouldn’t be crying. Right? The tears came harder. Wiping her eyes, Dana opened her calendar app on her phone. Maybe this was a bad case of PMS. Crying over missing a castle was ridiculous.
A knock came on her door. Ice. Dana hobbled to answer.
Juan stood there with a bucket. He looked at her face. “Do you need anything else? The ship has a doctor if?—”
“Thanks, Juan. Ice is all I need. I just overdid it.” She was about to close the door when her sister came bouncing up the hallway.
“Dana! There you are. I’ve been texting.”
Juan waved as he left.
“I’m sorry. My phone must not be receiving them.” Or she hadn’t wanted to check. Dana opened the door further and stepped back to let her sister in.
“Ice? Does it hurt again? Is that why you’re crying?”
Dana sat on the bed so she could prepare her ice pack. “What were you texting me about?”
Cheyanne wagged her finger. “You don’t get to sidestep my questions that easily?”
“I’m going to try. How was your day?” Dana set the ice pack on her ankle.
“Better than yours apparently. Did you injure it again?” Cheyanne sat on the bed.
“No. I just overestimated what I could do.”
“And that has you crying? You let me come to the gym with you when you spar those Hastings guys and take some pretty hard hits. And I haven’t seen you cry over your ankle once. Is it worse than you let on?”
“No, I’ll be fine for your wedding. It doesn’t hurt much at all, only like a four.”
“But you are crying.”
Dana blinked back more tears. “Just PMS.”
“Fine, don’t tell me the real reason. Anyway, I was texting you to come to dinner in our suite tonight. I ordered extra huge portions, then we are getting in the hot tub.”
“I was thinking of ordering room service so I could just stay here.”
“In this cave?”
Dana looked at the one white wall. “It is rather cave-like.”
“And sitting in here with a cheese sandwich, or whatever you order, and your PMS is only going to make it worse. Grab yourcrutches and come up to the suite. It is a girls only night. No mom. And we all understand PMS.”
“Will there be chocolate?”
“Of course. What is a girls’ night without chocolate?”
“Can we wait for fifteen minutes? I don’t want to haul the ice pack all over the ship.”
“No problem. Do you want your swimsuit? I can get it while you sit.”
