Resonating Souls (Bermuda Nights #1)(7)

He smiled. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“No problem. Gotta maintain that cosmic balance.” He grinned and headed toward the bar.

I watched him go. “I wonder if life ever does balance like that, like the neat figures on a general ledger.”

Evan’s eyes sparkled. “Business degree, and I’m assuming it’s in finance?”

I flushed in embarrassment. “When I arrived at college I had this thought that I’d reinvent myself. You know, become an art major, or a poet, or something wild and exciting. But when I met with my counselor, they looked at my high school transcript and said it made the most sense for me to enroll in the accounting program. They said I’d do well at it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And did you?”

I nodded. “Sure. Got great grades and earned my degree. I have a solid job in Boston now. Good benefits. 401K.”

I sighed. “But it’s all about money. As if those dollars and cents are what matters in life. But they don’t. They’re a way of quantifying something that is hollow. I had money, and I was miserable. Kayla has just enough to get by, and she has an absolute blast. It’s about how content you are with what you have, not about the piles of random stuff you can strive to acquire.”


Evan quieted, his gaze on me. “You’re absolutely right.”

My shoulders slumped. “And it was more than that. I was driven into a field I disliked, like a cow being pushed into that high metal chute at the slaughterhouse. It’s like, despite everything I tried, I still never got free from my parents. All those decisions they made for me in high school are still controlling me. Still making me miserable.” My voice dropped. “I’m trapped.”

Evan shook his head. “You control what action you take, every moment of the day. What is in the past can’t be changed. You can only choose what you do in the moment. If you want your life to be different, pay attention to those choices.”

A rough voice called out from the gazebo. “Evan? We’re ready to go.”

Evan looked around and nodded to the drummer. He squeezed my hand for a moment. “You’re a special person, … ummm … ” He paused, and his eyebrow raised quizzically.

I blinked. “Oh! I’m Amanda. I guess we never really formally met.”

He smiled, putting out a hand. “I forgot to bring my calling card.”

I blushed and took his hand. It was sturdy, warm, and I could just imagine it catching a long pass, tucking the ball in against that rippled chest of his, and blasting hard through a wall of burly defenders.

The words popped out of my mouth before I could rein them in. “Do you play rugby?”

His eyes sparked with surprise. “I do indeed.” He glanced up at the sports deck. “But not on this tub, I’m afraid. Back in Boston, I’m on a team. Just a bunch of the lads roughhousing.”

I wondered if I’d seen him in one of the open fields during one of my walks around the city. I wondered if I’d passed by him, never knowing what lay within that well-muscled body and handsome face.

He brushed his lips against my fingers, and a shimmer of emotion sank deep within me.

“We go on tonight at nine – maybe you’ll come join us?”

I smiled, warmth settling into every region of my body. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The drummer’s voice was sharper. “Evan!”

Evan held my gaze for a moment longer, then turned, and he was gone. I felt his absence like a hollow in my heart, an ache which delved into my very core.





Chapter 4


My heart thundered against my ribs as I stood at the entryway to the club. Dinner had been fantastic – filet mignon with béarnaise sauce and asparagus – but I’d barely tasted a bite. Every thought was on tonight, on counting the minutes until I could see Evan again.

I looked down myself for the hundredth time. It was the best dress I’d brought. Crimson, sparkling, ending mid-thigh and with a deep cleavage. I wasn’t as moose-stoppingly busty as Kayla, but my body was toned, sleek, and I hoped Evan would approve. He was so searingly handsome that he could have any woman on this ship. For some reason he was choosing to talk to me. The thought of seeing him with someone else sent sharp daggers through my chest.

I took in a deep breath, tossed back my hair, and walked in.

The place was packed. Already the band had made a name for itself with the passengers, and the crowds had come on thick. I pushed my way through, looking –

Kayla’s voice came bright from a corner near the stage. “Amanda! Over here!”

It was hard to miss her, once I turned to look. Her strapless outfit was neon pink, skin tight, nearly painted on along her large breasts. The Viking was at her side, his hand sliding along her hip. And next to them …

I nearly stopped at the rich emotion in his eyes, and he looked down my body, soaking me in. He was in a black t-shirt, jeans, and I wanted to pull the t-shirt up out from his belt, slide my hands along the ripples of his muscles, press myself against …

I shook myself from my fantasies as I came up to them, and Kayla smiled. She reached down to the table they stood against and handed me a flute. “Champagne, my dear,” she grinned. “Only the best for our tropical getaway.”

I took a sip, then turned to look up at Evan. His eyes seared into mine, and I glowed with the heat. His voice was thick. “You look … amazing, Amanda.”