CHAPTER ONE
Natalie stared out at the ship, one hand holding her floppy sun hat in place against the brisk December air. The boat—was it still a boat if it could hold five thousand passengers?—towered above her, its pristine white paint gleaming in the late morning sun. A sky blue stripe ran down the middle of the boat, the name Ocean Dream written in elegant cursive. Beams of light glinted off the portholes and sliding glass doors leading to private balconies, while the excited chatter of guests embarking on an early Christmas vacation mingled with the squawk of seagulls.
Was this floating palace seriously going to be her home for the next eight days? Natalie barely held back a squeal. She’d always heard cruise ships described as miniature cities, but never really appreciated what that would look like up close—in a word, awesome. She could definitely get used to this.
She would get used to this, after landing the job as a travel reporter for World Traveler Magazine. This article was going to knock their socks off, even if it was on something as ridiculous as a matchmaking cruise.
Someone bumped into her from behind, making Natalie stumble. An older man in a bright pink Hawaiian shirt mumbled an apology. Passengers poured out of the terminal where she’d just checked her luggage, heading toward one of the gangways leading up to the ship. Natalie lifted her purse higher on one shoulder and fell in line with the crowd, eager to board. The California sea breeze caressed her skin, making her arms prickle with the chill. Hopefully the temperatures would be warmer in Mexico.
A trio of women in sundresses stood in front of Natalie in line, giggling. They all had the naturally tanned skin and sun-kissed highlights of native Californians, and the hopeful glow of someone looking for love.
“Do you really think I’ll leave this cruise with a boyfriend?” the tall brunette asked.
Her companion, a curvy blonde, rolled her eyes. “You’d better. We’d all better, for what this is costing us.”
“Toujour has phenomenal success rates,” the girl in sunglasses said, confirming Natalie’s initial suspicions that they were part of the singles group. “I just know I’ll find love this week. I can’t wait to introduce whoever he is to my family at Christmas.”
The blonde let out a happy sigh. “That sounds amazing. If I have to show up solo to one more family party…”
Natalie tightened her hold on her purse and tuned out their conversation. The idea of falling in love with a total stranger—in eight days, no less—was completely ridiculous. Natalie had been around the block enough to know that wasn’t how relationships worked. The last three guys she’d dated had all left her with a broken heart and crushed dreams, and they’d known each other for months beforehand. Her relationship with Cole, her last boyfriend, had ended in a particularly brutal way three months ago. She’d thought he loved her, but it turned out he’d only loved her older brother Wyatt’s pro football career. Cole was majoring in sports medicine and thought Wyatt could use his connections to get him a job with the team.
So Natalie was no longer the wide-eyed romantic she’d been as a new college student, eager to take on the world. Next semester—in only five short months—she’d be a college graduate. And if she nailed this piece, she’d be a reporter for World Traveler, jetting around the world on their dime under the guise of work.
The line of people slowly shuffled forward. Natalie stepped onto the ship’s deck and presented her key card to the attendant waiting at the scanner.
“Ah, Miss James,” the man said. He had a thick Jamaican accent and smiling brown eyes. “Welcome aboard the Ocean Dream.”
“Thank you,” Natalie said.
“Your room should be ready in about two hours. Please, feel free to explore the ship and enjoy a bite to eat at the buffet.”
“I’ll do that,” Natalie said with a grin. She wanted that reporter job so badly she could taste it.
Natalie took back her key card and walked across the deck and into the ship’s interior. She gasped. The pictures had definitely not done the Ocean Dream justice. Chandeliers taller than a house hung high above her, illuminating the promenade. Five levels of balconies draped in garlands looked out over the grand entrance. Signs advertising the various duty-free shops boasted everything from diamond rings to exotic chocolates. A Christmas tree stood in the center, decked out in gold and red ornaments and rising past three levels of balconies.
“Incredible,” Natalie breathed. She owed Wyatt a killer Christmas present for helping her secure this opportunity.
When she’d sent her resume to World Traveler three weeks ago, Dana had promptly replied with a single question—Are you the Natalie James who is related to Wyatt James? Natalie’s heart had leapt when she saw the editor-in-chief’s name in the from line of the email, then promptly dropped at the one-line reply. Natalie loved Wyatt. He was her best friend. But being his sister wasn’t always easy. Everyone, from boyfriends to bosses, wanted to use her to get to him.
She’d reluctantly told Dana that she was indeed related to the famed lineman for the Los Angeles Coyotes. That had resulted in a phone call. Yes, Natalie was Wyatt’s sister. Yes, Wyatt’s fiancée, Tamera, had been a client of Toujour. Yes, Wyatt knew both Brooke, the owner of Toujour, and her husband, the owner of the Coyotes, reasonably well. Yes, Natalie was aware that Toujour was planning a singles cruise for the holidays.
That’s when Dana had issued the challenge. If Natalie could secure a spot on the Toujour cruise and write an article about the experience, she’d have her dream job waiting for her after graduation. And if she didn’t … well, Natalie could guess how many applications they had to pick from.
Natalie’s stomach growled, and she followed the stream of passengers heading toward the buffet. She’d boarded a red-eye flight last night after her last final, and then crashed for a few hours at Wyatt’s house before he dropped her off at the port. There hadn’t been time for breakfast.
The buffet was located at the front of the ship. The line already stretched nearly to the door, but it seemed to move quickly. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a spectacular view of the ocean. Carved fruit sat decoratively among the silver warmers and bowls holding everything Natalie could dream of. She’d have to try her hand at fruit carving when she stayed with Wyatt over the holidays. Her small student apartment in Arizona was too frustratingly cramped to do any really great cooking.
Ten minutes later, Natalie loaded her plate with a taste of everything, no matter how weird the pairing—chicken wings with a side of ranch, macaroni salad, Jell-O, pizza, a large helping of seasonal fruit, and popcorn shrimp. She’d come back for dessert later, because that looked like it would require an entire plate by itself. She definitely wouldn’t go hungry this week. If she had to do an article on matchmaking, at least the accommodations were top notch.
Her plate overflowing, Natalie turned to find a seat. She was met by a wall of muscles. Her plate smashed into the man’s chest, sending food crashing to the floor. Natalie tipped forward, her momentum smashing her against him. Her hands flew out, resting on his broad shoulders as she tried to right herself.
They were falling. She let out a yelp as his arms tightened around her waist. His back thudded against the carpeted ground, and Natalie landed on top of him with an oof.
“I am so sorry!” Natalie scrambled to stand, pushing away from the man.
He sat up with a groan. “What happened?”
His voice was low, with a subtle Southern twang. Natalie lost her breath, but this time for a very different reason. The man was young—perhaps only a decade or so older than herself, somewhere in his mid-thirties. He had eyes that were a vibrant gunmetal blue and dark brown hair that swept over his forehead. Her heart thudded in her chest and her cheeks began to burn. It was bad enough that she’d clobbered some unsuspecting guest, but did he have to be so handsome?
“Here, let me help you up.” Natalie reached out a hand, but he waved her away and pushed himself to his feet.
She saw the glob of Jell-O and ranch seconds before his foot stepped in the mess. Her hand reached toward his, desperate to stop the second impending disaster. “Wait—”
It was too late. His foot slid in the concoction and his arms pinwheeled. Then he was flat on the ground once more.
“Oh my gosh.” Natalie dropped to the floor, her hands fluttering over the man’s body. “Are you okay?”
He groaned in response.
“I am so, so sorry. I don’t know what happened. Where are you hurt?”
Mortified. That was the only way to describe how she felt in this moment. She could feel the eyes of curious passengers witnessing her humiliation. She’d have to walk around with caution stamped on her forehead for the rest of the week so that people would know to avoid Natalie, the walking disaster.
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