“A restless soul who joined the navy in ’37. He died of a fever that same year. For all his yearning for glory, it was sickness that got him.” It had been a long time since she’d talked about Danny, who she’d met in Norfolk after one of her first shows on the Maisy Adams. After the ship had left harbor, he’d followed her to the next port of Cape Charles and after that West Point. She’d loved him, would have married him. And then he was dead. Even now, she couldn’t bring herself to retell their story in great detail.

“He was willing to fight if it came to it. He gets high marks for that.”

“Thank you.”

“There anyone else in your life?”

“No,” she said. “I travel too much to find anything permanent.”

He sipped his drink. “What about on the showboat?”

“Most of the men on the ship are married. They’ve created an act with their wives. And I have a strict rule about married men.”

“Well, in case you’re wondering, I’m not married.”

“You seem like a good catch for any girl around here. I’ve noticed the way the female guests look at you.”

“They’re trouble.” A slight humorless smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “I learned that lesson long ago.”

She finished her whiskey and set her glass down. “I’m not fond of extended engagements. A few nights in port hits the sweet spot.”

He stared at her a long moment and then stepped forward. Inches separated them, but the energy crackling from their bodies reached out, collided, and coiled. Her body tingled.

He cupped the side of her face and slowly caressed her jawline with his thumb.

There’d been men since Danny, but not as many as most assumed. She was discerning. Careful. Because men, as fun as they were, could be trouble.

Carlotta leaned into a kiss and slid her hand down his flat belly. When her fingers brushed the hardness, desire melted through her. Sometimes a little trouble was worth the risk.

CHAPTER TWENTY IVY

CHAPTER TWENTY

IVY

Monday, January 24, 2022, 8:00 a.m.

Ivy had cleaned and cleared out some of the last pockets of clutter. Finally, she had fallen into a restless sleep around one. Her unconscious mind must have known she’d forgotten to set her alarm because her sleep was filled with quirky dreams about shipwrecks, ghosts, and finally the howl of a large dog.

Suddenly fully awake, she sat up immediately. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, looked out the window over the dunes, and saw a large dog bounding toward the ocean. The wolfhound. She’d have dashed after the dog if not for the time. Eight a.m. Forty-five minutes until she was supposed to pick up Dani. Shit.