Page 54 of Ship Wrecked

“Well—” he began tentatively.

“Are you sacrificinggoats? Or bathing in the blood of fuckingvirgins?”

“Contradiction in terms,” Peter muttered, brow creased as he studied the other couple.

Maria nodded. “And good luck finding a virgin around here.”

Jeanine clutched a fistful of Darrell’s sweater and shook him a little. “And you let me think you were in your twentiesall this time?”

“Are you... are you angry at me?” He was looking anxious now. “I never actually said I was in my twenties, honey, but I’m so sorry if—”

“Angry?” Jeanine pursed her lips. “Angryisn’t the word for how I feel.”

Oh, no. Poor, poor Darrell. Frankly, Maria had expected better of Jeanine than such flagrant hypocrisy.

The big, muscular PA seemed to be shrinking moment by moment, hunching in on himself in worry and the beginnings of grief. “Wh-whatisthe word for it, then?”

“Flabbergasted. Confused.” Jeanine’s hands flattened on his chest. Stroked a little. “Impressed.”

Apparently it was Darrell’s turn to imitate a stunned cod.

Then Jeanine dropped to one knee, and everyone in the room gasped.

“Darrell Watkins, you are the only man who’s ever beaten me at my own game.” She took his hands in hers. “I loved you when I thought you were in your twenties, and I love you even more now that I know you’re a geezer.”

Oh, thank goodness. They didn’t have to watch Darrell get his heart broken after all. In fact, a slow, beaming smile was creeping across that bafflingly youthful face of his.

“You’re still older than me, Neens,” he noted fondly. “If I’m a geezer, you’ve got one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel.”

Her eyes rolled to the ceiling. “Shut it, gramps. I’m trying to propose.”

More gasps. At the table, Ramón snatched up a napkin to blot his tears as Nava patted his back and directed a satisfied look Maria’s way.Told you, she mouthed.Marshmallow fluff.

I believed you, Maria mouthed back.

Darrell was grinning down at Jeanine now, his eyes wet. “I apologize for the interruption, my beautiful Cryptkeeper. Please proceed.”

“Will you marry me?” asked Jeanine. “Keep in mind that whatever Paul Rudd shit you have happening right now might not last forever, and I’m a goddamn catch at any age.”

He didn’t hesitate, not even for a moment.

“Yes.Yes.” Dropping to his own knees, he hauled her into his arms and planted a very passionate kiss on his brand-new fiancée. When he came up for air a long, long while later, he added breathlessly, “I love you so damn much, honey.”

More tongue-intensive kissing followed that declaration, accompanied by enthusiastic applause and a few wolf whistles from the other partygoers. Then came several champagne toasts to the happy couple and a sort of reception line to wish them well, and everyone ahead of Peter and Maria seemed to be in an extremely chatty mood.

It was all lovely, of course, and Maria wouldn’t have wanted to miss such a special moment. But by the time she was ready to leave the party again, her phone told her she now had less than five hours to pack and snatch a nap before heading to the airport.

Fuck.

Or, rather, no fuck.

“Peter...” Outside her suite, she turned to face him, smiling ruefully. “I’m so sorry, but—”

“It’s too late. I know.” He dragged a hand through his hair,mouth pressed tight. “My flight to LA is later in the day, but you’re leaving first thing in the morning, and you need time to prepare.”

“I do.” Reaching up, she tried to smooth the deep line between his brows with a fingertip. “I wish I didn’t.”

The line went nowhere. “It’s okay.”

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