Chapter One

DAY ONE—en route to the Port of Miami

“Party time!”

Marcus Rodriguez laughed as he placed his large, black leather Michael Koors suitcase into the side compartment of the party bus Kendra Bennet had booked to take their small group to the Port to Miami.

Marcus pointed at Kendra’s bottle of Tito’s. “It’s seven AM.”

The pretty blonde waggled the vodka. “Vacation’s starting now, Marcus. I got bloody Mary mix, limoncello, and mimosas too.”

“You’re not getting me drunk on my wedding cruise,” Lewis Martel groused. He was five-foot-eight and full of sarcasm, fluent French, random trivia, and corny dad jokes. His dark curly hair frizzed in the moist Florida air. This week he would marry his super-hot French boyfriend, Theron, aboard the Pride of the Caribbean, a popular gay-friendly cruise ship.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” Marcus teased.

“There is no wrong side of the bed with Theron in it,” Lewis snarked, with the smuggest shit-eating grin Marcus had ever seen.

“Enough of your love life,” Kendra snarked right back.

Lewis owned the strip mall where the party bus had parked, a central location for their friends to meet before heading to Miami. Marcus’s tattoo parlor, Ink Soul, was sandwiched right between Lewis and Kendra’s antique shop, Ancient Dreams, and their close friend Jeremiah Singleton’s aquarium store, Ocean Treasures. The empty space beside the Lebanese deli, The Grape Leaf, had recently been filled by Theron’s awesome medieval workout studio, Warrior Fitness.

Marcus had a damn good time taking sword aerobics—even if Theron didn’t realize it was the gayest name ever for a class. His chest and arms had never been so ripped.

Watching his friends play-bicker, Marcus smiled.

Who would’ve thought his life would turn out like this the day he’d made an appointment with the owner of a local strip mall, hunting for a place to open his tattoo parlor? He’d only been twenty-seven, but he’d saved enough and built up his clientele enough to open Ink Soul. But scoring a such amazing friends out of the deal too?

Wow!

This was the reason hashtag blessed existed.

Not only did he have a faithful staff to run the place while he’d be gone for two weeks, but Lewis and Kendra, and now Theron, had become like a second family. Jeremiah literally became family when his sister, Allison, married Marcus’s twin sister, Sheri. All the secondary friends and family who’d joined Marcus’s once small circle had become priceless to him.

At thirty-two, Marcus had everything he’d ever wanted.

Well, almost everything.

“Where is your French bounty hunter anyway?” Kendra asked Lewis. That had been Theron’s place of residence and job before he and Lewis moved in together.

“He went with Jeremiah and Skip to get food. Which is a good thing since we’ll need something to absorb all the booze you’re gonna push on us.” Lewis struggled to get his carry-on inside the side compartment of the bus. “Kendra, you packed too much shit!”

Marcus stepped in to help, moving her matching pink luggage so Lewis’s bag would fit, and so his own bag wouldn’t get scratched in their impatience.

“Maybe some of that stuff is your wedding presents,” she argued.

“Which would’ve made more sense to leave here.”

“Okay, Mr. Crab Ass, fine. That suitcase is full of shoes and I won’t apologize!”

Lewis shook his head and chuckled at his blonde best friend.

The sharp squeal of breaks ended any conversation and instantly grabbed their attention.

A red Toyota tore into the parking lot, tires squealing and sliding.

“Jesus Christ on toast,” Kendra muttered. “Breaks are on the left.”

“I can’t believe Jeremiah lets him drive,” Lewis said as the Toyota whipped into a parking space, overcorrecting and ending up with one tire over the concrete wheel stop. “I won’t even get into the car with him anymore. He’s a menace to society.”

“I’d like to make the excuse Theron is from France,” Marcus said with sympathy. “But driving on the other side of the road doesn’t cause that. And is that a new dent on your bumper?”

Lewis let out a sigh. “Yes, Theron went out for ice cream while I was at work and backed into a telephone pole. Which is why I’ll never buy a new car again,” he remarked as three men—two as white as sheets—piled out of the car. “I’m hoping he gets so many points on his license they take it away. Honestly? I have no clue how he even passed the test. He must’ve used magic to trick the driving instructor. I’m convinced of it.”

Kendra and Marcus laughed at their friend’s serious face.

Theron was one of those guys who looked like he belonged on a romance novel cover. Sexy, dark eyes with gold flecks Marcus had never seen in real life—and still wasn’t convinced weren’t contacts—long blond hair, and muscles out the wazoo. And he was all around a really cool guy. It was nice to know he was a total failure behind the wheel or he’d be so perfect it would be hard to like the man.

“How did he ever make it as a bounty hunter in France being such a bad driver?” Kendra wondered.

“People walk more in France. He can’t drive, but he runs fast,” Lewis explained then put on a huge smile as the bad driver in question stepped into hearing range. “Hi, sweetie!”

Theron scowled. “I heard you.”

“You’re getting better,” Skip Weaver remarked. Lean as a whip, with blue eyes and a cute Georgia accent, he’d met Jeremiah on Sheri and Allison’s wedding cruise. The two men had also been married on the Pride a few months ago. Like Theron, Skip melded into their little group of friends seamlessly.

Though happy his twin and two closest friends had found true love, Marcus wondered if love would ever be in the cards for him.

Maybe I’ll come home from vacation with a fiancé.

It was a delightful notion, but Marcus wouldn’t get his hopes up.

Jeremiah held out a bag of fast food to Marcus, looking a little green around the gills. “We stopped at most red lights this time.” His big brown eyes were wider than usual, no doubt relieved to have two feet on land.

Marcus took the proffered bag and chuckled at Jeremiah.

Lewis hugged his big Frenchman. “It’s okay. I still love you.”

Theron smiled back, not upset by the teasing. “I will only improve with practice. And I love you too, Acorn.”

Kendra snorted and Lewis scowled.

Apparently, Lewis’s wild curls had been extra wild when he’d first met Theron. His fiancé thought Lewis’s face was so petit, his frizzy hair so wide, Theron had started calling him Acorn, or so they’d explained. Lewis pretended to hate it, but Marcus had known Lewis a long time.

If he loved you, you got all of his snark.

Theron had even specially designed Lewis’s wedding band to be a ring of golden acorns.

Skip and Jeremiah passed out bags filled with delicious greasy breakfast sandwiches, cinnamon rolls, and hashbrowns. After their handsome driver—who introduced himself as Thomas—secured the rest of their luggage, the pre-wedding party boarded the bus.

Kendra smiled up at Thomas from the doorway. “Looks like I’m the only girl stuck on a party bus with six hunks. Yay me!”

“Five of which are gay,” Lewis said, pushing on her butt until she moved up the steps so they all could find their seats. “And some of us would like to get on the bus. We’re already ten minutes behind schedule.”

“Six.” Thomas laughed.

“Six what? Six minutes late?” Kendra plopped down on one of the benches, somehow landing in a sultry position with her vodka bottle in hand like a supermodel posing for a liquor ad.

Marcus’s fingers itched for his sketchbook and pencils.

“No, one woman and six gay men.” Thomas pointed at himself. He had strawberry blond hair, a button nose, and an adorable grin.

“Yay me!” Kendra cheered. “I love gay men. I only got one use for straight men.”

“Their dick,” Marcus snarked before Lewis could.

“Preach!”

Everyone laughed.

Marcus found a seat near the back, and tossed his matching Michael Kors backpack containing his toiletries and drawing supplies beside him. Open in the middle, the party bus had benches with seatbelts lining both sides and a tiny bathroom tucked in the back next to a small bar. True to Kendra’s word, she’d fully stocked the bar with all manner of booze and cocktail paraphernalia.

The warm Florida morning didn’t require a jacket, and he’d wanted to be comfy for the drive, so he’d worn his usual snug CK white tank to show off his ink and now-bigger muscles, roomy cargo shorts and belt, along with Vans slide-ons in rainbow checkerboard—which he’d bought specifically for the cruise. He sat down and kicked back, more than ready for a vacation.

He really needed one.

He’d booked a single outside cabin for two weeks. The first week for his friends and the wedding—he knew firsthand how busy a destination wedding became, having already attended two aboard the Pride—and the second week to fly solo, needing the downtime to relax and draw. He was lucky enough to make a good living doing something he loved, but it’d been ages since he’d drawn for the love of art and not for a commissioned tattoo.

Drawing since his youth, Marcus had attended charter schools designed around different art forms from a young age. Fascinated by tattooing, he’d taken a job at a parlor in high school, cleaning and answering the phone. The industry had kept him out of trouble and away from the gang he’d gotten involved with after his family moved from Arizona to Florida. With better role models, great mentors, and a tireless drive, Marcus progressed in his chosen art form to the point he’d opened Ink Soul.

Life had never been easy and no one had handed him anything.

Maybe seeing the failures of his father juxtaposed to his hardworking Uncle Jerry had motivated him. Perhaps almost failing and losing everything after a summer in juvie, or maybe something intrinsic to his character, but Marcus never gave up and he worked hard. If he failed, he got back up again.

He always got back up.

Always.

“You guys are gonna be fun.” Thomas the bus driver closed the door with a woosh. “My usual crowd going to the Port of Miami are seniors headed on a cruise.”

The bus’s dashboard had all manner of side and back-up camera screens, along with something above the driver’s head that looked suspiciously like a karaoke machine.

Marcus grinned.

He loved karaoke.

Skip snuggled up to Jeremiah and flipped a thumb at Theron and Lewis, the latter fussing with the seatbelts. “The cruise is for their wedding.”

“Congratulations,” Thomas offered. “What cruise line?”

“The Pride of the Caribbean,” Marcus explained. “They’re an independently owned ship.”

The Pride had been saved from decommission by a Greek billionaire named Alexander Leonides. Marcus had the pleasure of meeting the captain on the last cruise as he’d officiated for Jeremiah and Skip’s wedding. Apparently, his husband Raoul would marry Theron and Lewis. Known for elaborate costume parties, the Pride still had a family feel about it.

“I’ve heard of the Pride,” their driver gushed as he put the party bus into gear. “It’s supposed to be the most elegant ship in the Caribbean. It’s small but they say that’s what makes it so wonderful. I heard it was the ship they used on that old eighties TV show.”

“It’s definitely been the love boat for us,” Jeremiah enthused. “It’s where we met.”

“Us too.” Lewis shared a tender glance with Theron. “The second time.”

“Hey, I got some lovin’ on the ship too,” Kendra interjected.

Smiling, Marcus hoped his friends didn’t notice it was forced. He was happy for all of them, but jealous too. He thought he might’ve found a love connection aboard the Pride, but apparently it had been his imagination.

Marcus should’ve been content with his life. He had a killer condo, a cool cat named Kitt, great friends and family, a successful business with appointments booked out six-plus months in advance, and clients coming from all around the world for his tats. He’d even had a cameo in Inked magazine. He rubbed his inner forearm, a badass wizard tattoo reminding him that he had achieved every goal he’d set before himself. So why was he so restless?

Marcus should be content.

He hadn’t been since that damn cruise for Jeremiah and Skip’s wedding.

“I need to cruise with them someday,” Thomas enthused.

“Don’t forget Marcus saw his future husband on the Pride,” Skip teased. “What was his name?”

“Dane,” Lewis supplied around a mouthful of sausage biscuit.

“I’m not worried about him,” Marcus lied, fussing with the heavy gold Cuban curb chain on his wrist.

Dane.

Hearing his name made Marcus’s heart ache. After the drive from St. Pete to Miami he would be boarding the ship where the man possibly still worked and lived. During their last cruise, Dane had come to their dinner table the first night to tell the purser the kilts were pressed and ready for Jeremiah and Skip’s wedding. Marcus had seen him again later that evening, but then the guy disappeared.

Bam!

Like a ghost, never to be seen again.

Had Marcus imagined the whole thing?

No, impossible.

Unbidden, his mind filled with songs he’d never heard before and images he’d been sketching for months. A man with blond hair curling gently over delicate ears and dark sweeping eyebrows. Those stunning lilac eyes with black lashes had to be contacts and mascara. Marcus didn’t mind a guy in makeup, and wore eyeliner often.

His dream man had been gorgeous.

All Marcus could find out about Dane was he worked as a bellhop aboard the Pride. After a week of fruitless searching, Marcus not only felt like a stalker, but he began to believe he’d imagined that spark when he’d seen him, the way some imaginary band had seemed to be playing their favorite song.

Maybe it had all been the magic of vacation or the romance of a wedding that caused Dane to haunt his dreams. Marcus feigned like he’d gotten over the crush, but when he sat at Ink Soul waiting for a client, his pencils sketched Dane’s face. When he closed his eyes at night, his heart ached for the other man, and his dreams were filled with lilac eyes. While he’d told his friends he was over it, he wasn’t.

Far, far from it.

“Oh sure, you’re not worried about your mysterious Dane,” Kendra teased. “You were asking everyone if they knew him.”

“I don’t even know what got into me,” Marcus insisted, wishing his friends would drop it so he didn’t have to lie to them. “Probably just horny. Or maybe it was all the booze you made me drink.”

“I never poured it down your throat.” Kendra stuck her tongue out then walked toward the bar. They all eyed her progress in case she lost her balance, but she expertly remained upright as Thomas headed toward the highway, the bus swaying. “You were so obsessed with finding him. Like borderline stalker.”

“He was hardly a stalker,” Skip argued. “I would know.”

Poor Skip had a stalker once, and he’d followed Skip onto the cruise where he’d met Jeremiah. The whole thing had been freaky, but at least it resulted in a happy ending. The guy had moved on and Skip had married Jeremiah.

No such happy ending for Marcus.

“Still,” Kendra mused as she stuck the vodka in the mini-fridge and swapped it for a bottle of champagne. “I’m surprised, is all. You were so sure he was your future husband or whatever.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Marcus shrugged, not wanting to elaborate.

All his friends had expressed disappointment when Marcus never got the chance to meet Dane. They were teasing him now, but once they’d returned from their last vacation, they’d barely mentioned his infatuation again. Marcus preferred it that way. They didn’t need to know he still thought about Dane, drew him, pined for him, and dreamed about him. Obsessed over him. One look through a certain sketchpad—one he’d wisely left at home—showed nothing but page after page of a man Marcus had only seen for less than four minutes.

Something is wrong with me.

He never thought he suffered from the mental illness on his father’s side of the family, but maybe he did. Why else would he be so fixated with someone he’d only seen twice?

In his pocket his phone buzzed. He slid it out as his friends thankfully found other things to talk about while they ate sandwiches and drank coffee.

His cousin, Josh Gilbert, had texted him. Thru security, flight leaves in 55 min

Marcus texted back: Just hit the road. ETA 3 hrs

Cool! We should be there around same time. Can’t wait to see U all. Parents and sibs send XXXs n OOOs

“Josh and Nathan are flying out soon,” Marcus told their group. Nathan was Josh’s unbelievably gorgeous husband, a fellow artist like Marcus, though his medium was photography, and more recently poetry.

Nathan had a book of erotic poetry being published later this year. Marcus had a chance to read a few of the poems—they had been hot, hot, hawt!—when Nathan asked him if he wanted to add some illustrations. He’d been honored when his sexy doodles ended up in the finished product. He couldn’t wait to show the book off in his parlor.

Side note: Josh had also met Nathan on the Pride.

The ship really was the frikking love boat.

Just not for me.

“Awesome.” Lewis wiped his mouth with a napkin, shaking the crumbs on his fingertips into his fast-food bag.

“We’re getting pedicures with them later today,” Skip said.

“You’re getting a pedicure,” Jeremiah corrected his husband. “I’ll watch or visit with Jasmine if she’s not busy.” Jasmine worked in the spa aboard the Pride and dated one of Jeremiah’s siblings, Mitch. Mitch had designed the ship’s website and app, and they both seemed to be happy living and working together on the ship.

Yet another match made aboard the Pride.

“Maybe I should see if there’s an opening and join you guys,” Marcus mused.

Anything for a distraction.

“I’ll check the app,” Skip offered.“Josh and I booked months ago.”

Though Marcus and his super shy cousin were both gay and the same age, they hadn’t been close as kids, living so far apart. Indiana and Florida, respectfully. But they’d always gotten along. When Marcus had attended Josh’s wedding—hosted at the gallery/wine-bar Nathan owned in Fort Wayne—he’d been floored his baby-faced cousin had scored such a supermodel hubby, but he was happy for him.

Six degrees of separation and all that, after Marcus’s twin married Allison, it didn’t take long for their families to merge, introducing Nathan and Josh to Jeremiah, and eventually Skip. Skip and Josh had become instant BFFs, while Theron and Lewis had befriended his cousins on the last wedding cruise. No surprise all of them were attending this destination wedding too.

Marcus looked forward to hanging with Josh this week. His cousins—Luke, Josh, and Clare—had very different childhoods from Marcus and Sheri. Unlike his own mother’s poor choice in men, Aunt Hannah had married a great guy, one who had never hit them, did drugs, or spent the night in a ditch too high or hungover to find his way home.

Marcus used to be jealous his cousins had a father worth a damn. Now he was damn grateful he’d had such a wonderful male role model in his life. Uncle Jerry had humble beginnings too. From the way Marcus understood it, his childhood had been more like Marcus’s than his own children’s. He’d worked hard though, paying his way through medical school while Aunt Hannah had waited tables and raised the kids. Marcus tried hard to emulate his uncle’s work ethics and was proud to follow in his footsteps. And he was enjoying getting closer to Josh by virtue of all their now mutual friends.

“Mitch is really nervous about this cruise,” Jeremiah mentioned.

Lewis sat up straighter. “Why? What’s wrong with this cruise?Did something happen to the ship? Did Kevin or Penelope quit? Did the island burn down? Are the pools out of commission? Oh my God, did someone die?”

“Jump right to a doomsday scenario, little man,” Skip teased.

Theron put a reassuring arm over Lewis’s tense shoulders. “I was just there yesterday, Acorn. Everything is perfect.”

“You sure?” He’d been obsessing over every detail of his dream wedding.

“Ease up on the theatrics, bridezilla,” Kendra scolded.

“Mitch is nervous because he’s meeting Jasmine’s father this week. Apparently, he’s rarely in her neck of the woods and he didn’t know she was living with a man,” Skip explained. “It’s not all about you, Lew-lew.”

“Yes, it is, Skippy,” Lewis snarked. “And Theron.” The add-on almost seemed like an afterthought.

Marcus was about to ask Theron how he’d seen their cruise ship yesterday when it was probably at sea, but Kendra popped the champagne, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Who wants cocktails?” She poured two mimosas, each so light on the OJ they were barely yellow.

“You’re such a pusher,” Lewis grumbled as he peeled the wrapper off a second sandwich. “It’s seven in the morning.”

“I’ll take a mimosa.” Jeremiah happily accepted a flute.

“We’re on vacation, so I’ll have a guilt-free beer myself,” Skip declared. “Is there Bud Lite?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Kendra rejoined, tossing Skip a can.

Marcus chuckled at his friends then accepted an OJ flavored glass of champagne as he settled in for the drive. Despite his nerves about being on the same ship with the elusive Dane, this week promised to be memorable. He loved cruising and he loved his friends. He looked forward to watching two more of them tie the knot, and getting a chance to relax. He’d been burning the candle at both ends for years. And he couldn’t deny he hoped for a second chance to meet and talk to the man tormenting his fantasies.

But if he saw Dane on the ship, he would play it cool.

Oh, he would definitely keep his eyes open, but he’d resist the temptation to hound Mitch and Jasmine—sounded like they’d have a lot on their plate with her father—for any update on Dane. He would not draw pictures of Dane on napkins and flash them around like a missing persons flyer either.

He wasn’t a stalker.

Not this time, anyway.

Marcus didn’t know how he would find Dane, or what he’d say if he did.

“Hi, we don’t know each other, but I think you’re supposed to be my husband,” made Marcus sound like a lunatic.

No, Marcus intended to be chill this week. No asking around, no obsessing, and no flashing drawings of Dane or begging Jeremiah’s brother to introduce him. While Marcus always went after what he wanted, Dane wasn’t a client or a business opportunity.

If something was meant to be, they would meet.

If not, he’d have to find a way to move on.