Philip Ardagh - All at sea

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Melissa and Owen met on New Years' Eve and he proposed on Valentine's Day. Now it's March, and they're about to set sail on a two-week Caribbean cruise - and get married on the last day at sea. Though their relationship's moving fast, Melissa's wanted to be married for years and she knows the smart stable Owen is a great catch so she's sure they'll be fine.

At least, she's sure until she meets his brothers on the cruise and discovers she's dated both of them: Austin, the fun-loving flirt whose kisses still haunt her dreams, and Nicholas, the sweet horror movie fan whose lack of ambition upset her in ways she still doesn't understand.

Melissa expected to spend tons of time onboard with her fianc, but he instead spends nearly his every waking moment in the casino displaying a previously unseen love of gambling. This surprise, and the time she spends with Nicholas and with Austin, makes her question everything she thought she wanted.

Her relationship with Owen was just fine before, but suddenly 'just fine' doesn't seem good enough to keep a marriage alive for a lifetime. Melissa has two weeks to decide: stay with Owen or jump ship.

"All At Sea" is the ninth novel in my "Toronto Series". While the books can be read out of order, this one does include characters from "A Life That Fits", so if you haven't read that one yet you might want to pick it up first!

If you'd like to read all of the Toronto books in order, starting with my free novel "Life, Love, and a Polar Bear Tattoo", the "Also By Heather Wardell" link in the Table of Contents will give you the information you need.

Whether you've read all my books or are just finding me now, thank you so much!

Heather

"Hurry up, Mel!" Owen shouted over his shoulder.

Stressed beyond endurance by knowing I'd made us so late, I nearly snapped something I'd wanted to say for months. "Melissa! Three syllables!" But I needed my breath for chasing after him and I knew he thought Mel was a cute nickname, so I kept quiet and ran for the cruise ship terminal.

A uniformed woman standing near the door called to us, "We're pulling the gangway in seven minutes. Hurry!"

The idea of literally missing the boat gave me an added burst of energy, and despite the weight of my suitcase and backpack and awkward-to-carry dress bag I reached the door right behind Owen. The employees in the empty terminal rushed us through the check-in process, and had us on board with a good thirty seconds to spare.

We stood watching and panting as the gangway began to move away from the ship, and I turned my best puppy-dog eyes on Owen and said, "You wouldn't have left me behind, would you?"

He grinned at me. "Hard to get married without you."

"You could find some rich divorce on the ship."

He laughed. "Unless she spent all her time in the casino, I wouldn't. And then she probably wouldn't be rich. Plus I kind of like you."

I gave him a mock pout. "Only kind of?"

"I don't like being late."

My amusement faded. I knew. Oh, how I knew. "I told you I was sorry in the taxi. I didn't realize the drive to the port would take so long or I wouldn't have--"

He squeezed my hand in his 'stop talking' way. "It's okay, we made it. And of course I like you. I love you. I just hope that book is worth what it nearly caused."

"I love you too." I patted my backpack where I'd stuffed the book I'd bought. "It will be, I think. I've never seen a slower checkout line, though."

"That cashier just would not stop talking." He rolled his eyes. "If she'd asked to read every page of the book to you right there in line to make sure it would help you with your writing, or had offered to read your book if you ever get it done, I wouldn't have been surprised. Well, at least we made it. Want to go check out our stateroom?"

"For sure."

We headed off, and he pointed out the ship's landmarks since this was his twentieth time on board this particular ship and he knew every corner of it, and I listened and began to relax. Yeah, he called me Mel and he didn't think much of my writing. So what? Mel was part of my name, and since I hadn't done more than toy with my partially finished novel for two years he had no reason to think much of it. The important thing was that in less than two weeks we'd be married. I'd have a smart successful husband, like I'd always wanted.

"Mrs. Melissa Reel," I said.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Not yet, but soon. Not soon enough for me, though."

Touched, I snuggled into him even though we were in the hallway and he wasn't much for public displays of affection. "Me either." I chuckled. "Not that we've exactly been dragging things out."

He drew away and looked at me. "So? Why wait when you know it's the right thing to do?"

"I didn't say we should wait," I said, sighing inside. Somehow he never seemed to understand what I was trying to say. "It's just, we met on New Year's Eve and we'll be married March sixteenth. It's fast, that's all."

"But we knew it was right."

"I know, it's just..." I shook my head. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

"It was fast," he said, brushing his fingertips over my cheek. "But it's right."

Recognizing and accepting his concession to my statement, something he didn't give me very often, I smiled up at him. "No doubt, Mr. Reel. Now, where's this stateroom?"

He made a grand waving hand gesture. "Right this way, Mrs. Reel-to-be."

We walked on and I wondered how he could possibly think our relationship hadn't been moving faster than the airplane we'd taken from Toronto to Fort Lauderdale.

After we'd met at that New Year's party, where we'd been kissing well before midnight, we'd seen each other nearly every day and then he'd proposed on Valentine's Day with a diamond ring hidden in a box of chocolates.

I'd been shocked when I saw the ring, since I'd never have thought we'd be at that level so soon, but I'd also known there were precious few single men like Owen and so I'd pulled myself together and told him I'd absolutely marry him. Then he'd told me about the cruise his family took every year in March and had suggested we marry in a month so we could have our wedding at sea. Swept up in the romance of it, I hadn't asked any questions about logistics. A mistake.

He stopped before a door and opened it for me. "Here we are. Our home for the next two weeks."

Small but perfect. We'd have a gorgeous view of the ocean from our own private balcony, and though there wasn't much unused space in the room it looked cozy and romantic.

Since we'd been rushing around getting ready for the trip we hadn't made love for nearly a week, and once I'd hung up my wedding dress bag I reached for him and murmured, "Want to test out the bed?"

He pulled me close and kissed me, but as my body began to stir he set me away from him. "I'd love to, but we can't. We need to go meet my family in the main lounge."

I tried to smile but it was tough since my stomach was suddenly full of what felt like ice-cold butterflies. His three-times-divorced mother, rich enough to bring her three sons on a yearly luxury cruise and generous enough to add four more people to the trip without batting an eye, sounded awfully intimidating. If she didn't like me, I didn't know what Owen would do.