Her Cruise Ship Surprise | ✔

Chapter Six

"Jail?" she repeated slowly, unsure of how to process that comment. Was she rooming with a criminal? Slipping by him, she went and sat on her bed, with him following behind her.

"I'm going to need a beer," he said, wandering over to the phone. "Hi, yes, could you have the steward bring beer up to our room ASAP. It hasn't been dropped off yet."

She never heard the response, but he hung up the phone calmly and went to take a seat beside her. "No way. You have your own bed to sit on." If he sat next to her, she might not be strong enough to not punch him or something. Turning, she faced his bed as he sat down on the edge and said, "Talk."

"Can we wait until the beer comes?"

"What do you mean jail, Logan?"

Did he have a secret life that she didn't know about? What kept a person in jail for 14 years? What stopped a person from coming back to the one they loved? "You didn't kill anyone, did you?" she asked again with bated breath. That wasn't something she could imagine him doing. He was too much of a sweetheart to have that dark of a past.

"Of course not!"

Tamara breathed a sigh of relief, her hand on her chest. After that, neither spoke again until they heard the knock at the door. They both got up simultaneously to answer, desperately wanting a beer before they continued.

Thankful to have something to do with her hands, Tamara accepted the beer from Logan. Their fingers brushed sending a delightful, but annoying tingle through her body. She fumbled with the beer, but Logan caught it before it hit the ground, handing it to her again.

"I don't remember you being Ms. Butter Fingers," he said, winking at her.

"And I don't remember you being a sneaky twerp as to worm your way into my room."

"Our room."

She didn't grace him with a response, instead she opened her beer and took a long drink, finishing half of it in one gulp.

"Impressive," he said, holding his own up in the air like a toast.

Tamara rolled her eyes. "So, you've got your beer. Now speak!"

He laughed nervously. "You are exactly as I remember, always barking orders."

"Logan," she said, her voice was deep with a hint of warning in her tone.

"Okay, okay. You remember how I used to work for my dad, right?"

"Yes, he was in pharmaceuticals, wasn't he?"

"In a manner of speaking," Logan replied, as his face flushed a bright red color. "It was a cover for him to move illegal drugs around the country."

Tamara pulled her knees up to her chest as she leaned against the head of the bed. "Well, if you helped your dad sell street drugs, you deserved to wind up in jail."

His face crumbled and his eyes pleaded with her to not accuse him yet. "Will you at least let me speak instead of jumping to bloody conclusions?"

"Go on," she muttered, trying desperately to hold back her tongue.

"I had no idea what he was doing, and to be honest, I never gave it much thought. But, I started to question his actions when delivery after delivery took me to weird rundown warehouses. People would drive inside with their dark tinted vans and take the merchandise, and wire their payment to my dad."

"Talk about mind blowing," she said, taking another sip of her beer, desperately trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Not that he deserved it. "What did you do when you found out?"