Page 50 of Ship Happens
Kindra scoffs. “He’d have to have feelings if we wanted to hurt them.”
“You guys are too hard on him sometimes. He fucked a pineapple.” Maverick shrugs. “So what? Women fuck weird shit all the time, and we say fuck all about it.”
“I once read a book about a woman who liked fucking a snowman,” I offer. “I guess a guy fucking a pineapple isn’t that weird.” The unwanted images fill my brain, and I shake my head. “No, never mind. It’s definitely weird.”
Eve’s eyes widen, and she turns her head toward me. “Wait, back up to the lady fucking the snowman. What did she do, craft an icicle dick?”
“No, she used a carrot.”
Kindra laughs and stands from the table. “I don’t know if that’s better or worse, but it doesn’t matter. If we don’t get a move on, we won’t have time to get into character before we head to the island.”
The rest of the group stands, and we follow her out of the dining hall. I pick up the pace to walk beside her.
“Character?” I ask.
“Bennett brought our outfits to the room after you’d gone to breakfast,” Maverick says behind me. “They’re certainly...interesting, if his description is to be believed. Very authentic.”
“Great,” I mumble under my breath. “Can’t wait.”
We walk as a group, parting ways as we exit the elevator on the Sinner level. I shuffle along beside Maverick, trying to keep pace. His legs are so long that he takes one stride for three of mine. Thankfully, he notices that I’m practically running to keep up, so he slows down.
“About last night...” he says, and my blood runs cold. Sure, part of me wants to talk about what happened, but a much larger part of me wants to pretend that everything is normal. “No one has seen Ice Pick since we were with him at the lounge, and I’m starting to worry.”
Okay, not what I expected to talk about, but I think we’re on the same page about pretending things are normal, at least. “He’s an adult, isn’t he? Is there a reason we should be concerned?”
Maverick smirks and shakes his head as he lets us into the cabin. “I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s nothing.”
He stops beside the closet and pulls two garment bags from inside. God, I hope it’s not another fucking spacesuit. I’ll roast to death in this sunshine. He hands one bag to me, then goes to the bed, where he drops his bag and sighs.
I place my hand on his arm until he looks at me. “It seems to be bugging you, so it’s definitely something. The girl he went on a date with seemed nice. Are you worried she might be a fed?”
“I’m not sure. It’s just...it’s not like Ice to go missing at breakfast. He loves food. Bennett and I ate with the Normies, and I didn’t see him, and you guys were at the Sinners’ breakfast, and he wasn’t there either.” He leans down and unzips his bag, then stands up. “What the fuck? Jim can’t be serious.”
I drape my bag over my arm and step closer so that I can peer around his tall frame. Inside the bag rests a pirate costume, but it’s so much more extravagant than I pictured. I expected a cheap getup, with a plastic-hook hand or maybe a fake parrot, but this? As he pulls the long captain’s coat from the bag, I’m in awe. This sort of detailing must have cost a fortune.
I hurry to open my bag, excited by what I might find. My mother wouldn’t let me participate in trick-or-treat when I was growing up, and dress-up wasn’t a game in our household. She sent me skydiving at five, but Halloween was off-limits. Probably because the chameleon aspect of our lives wasn’t something to play with, but still, it’s exciting to finally wear a costume.
My ensemble is just as detailed and expensive-looking—and feeling—as Maverick’s attire. I begin stripping immediately. The sooner I can slide my body into this outfit, the better. I start with the top—a white linen shirt that drapes off my shoulders and trails down to flowing sleeves. The skirt is to die for, with all its silky purple ruffles. It stops at my upper thighs in the front and trails to my calves in the back.
I turn to see how Maverick’s getting along, and my jaw nearly hits the floor. He’s gotten as far as the loose brown pants and ankle-high boots, and honestly, he could stop right there. He looks like he walked out of a period piece, and nothing is sexier than a man right out of 1829.
“I feel like an idiot,” he laments as he lifts the white shirt from the bag. The frills at the ends of the sleeves give me a chuckle.
I pluck the black corset from my garment bag and cinch it around my waist. “If it’s any consolation, you certainly don’t look like an idiot.” I give him my back. “Little help?”
He steps behind me, and his cologne teases my senses with hints of leather and sin. His fingers work quickly, pulling thestrings until my rib cage shrinks three sizes. With each tug, he asks if it’s too tight. It is, but that’s okay. I want to look snatched.
With the last stay in place, I grab the black knee-high boots and a feathered cap that I’m a bit iffy about. Hats and I don’t tend to mesh well. Maybe once my makeup is on, it won’t be so bad, so I hurry to do that while Maverick busies himself with the rest of his outfit.
While I don’t normally wear much makeup, this event calls for some flair. I pull out the big guns and set to work, contouring my face until I look like a starlet. I finish off with some fake lashes and red lipstick. After running a curling wand through my hair to give it some oomph, I try the hat again. I’m surprised when I look in the mirror and like what I see. This doesn’t happen very often.
Maverick lets out a low grunt of approval as I come around the corner. “Shiver me fucking timbers. You clean up well, sweetheart.”
“If you ever say shiver me timbers again, I will stab you.” I smile at him. “But thanks. You look pretty swashbuckling good yourself.”
“Oh, you haven’t seen the best part yet.” He turns back to the garment bag, digs around, then spins to face me once more. In his hand, he brandishes a cutlass. “Son of a bitch is sharp, too. I sliced the fuck out of my finger because I thought it was fake or at least dull, but no. Jim got the real deal.”
My stomach sinks as I realize what that means, but I should have known we’d have to kill people today. Drat. Suddenly, this outing doesn’t seem like such a good time.
