A Man Overboard Read Free Page A

a tragic car accident on Roosevelt Boulevard when he was just six years old, leaving him to be raised by his grandmother from his father’s side. She had died his first year in college. The only family that he had left was his aunt in Florida and some cousins in California. All Stacey had was her mother—the Russian countess. So after her eminence finally surrendered to fate’s chorus of wedding bells, there was nothing to hinder them from “till death do us part.”
    Joseph was conceived shortly after, and upon his birth, their fairytale pact had been stamped with the eternal seal of shared responsibility…with a creation that had been perfectly orchestrated from two genetic make-ups destined to be one. They had become more than lovers, more than husband and wife…they had become a family.
    “I want a drink.”
    Jack opened his eyes, not realizing they’d fallen shut, and saw Stacey looking down the aisle for the stewardess.
    “Bad dream?” he asked.
    “The plane lost an engine, and we crashed in the Everglades. The survivors banded together and for three days were gnawed on by monster alligators. We died last with our intestines wrapped around each other and our stomachs floating like jellyfish in the water.”
    “Mmmm. Yummy…” He shot a furtive glance out the window, seeing the open mouth of a large reptile floating toward them. “Make it two.”
     
    * * * *
     
    The flight to Miami was uneventful—the box cutter of all box cutters hadn’t brought the nation to its knees, there were no mishaps into alligator-infested swamps, and the TSA hadn’t rummaged through Stacey’s goods. All-in-all, it had gone as well as could be hoped in today’s world. And now here they were, floating on a ship in the middle of a blue nothing with two weeks of romance and unbridled passion on the horizon. Oh yeah .
    Stacy stretched back on the deck chair, reclining in her bikini while dropping her own novel to the deck beside her.
    Jack ran a hand through his short, black hair and looked over, his eyes gliding over the terrain of his wife’s body. Once he had the geography properly surveyed, he let his eyes flutter down to the title of her book. “ Simple Simon , by Ryne Douglas Pearson. Hmm…never heard of him.”
    She closed her eyes, absorbing the warmth of the afternoon sun as the ocean breeze played with her hair. “You ever see the Bruce Willis movie Mercury Rising ?”
    He closed Koontz’s The House of Thunder and squinted over the tops of his mirrored sunglasses. “Of course.”
    “This is the book the movie’s based on. There’s actually a whole series based on the character.”
    “I didn’t know that.”
    “Book’s much better.” She moved the straps of her bikini down off her shoulders, her eyes still closed. “Remember that movie we saw in the theater with Nicholas Cage… Knowing ?”
    “Yeah, I loved that movie.”
    “He wrote the screenplay for it.”
    “Bruce Willis?”
    The side of her mouth rose into a smirk. “Nicholas Cage.”
    “Oh.”
    Without opening her eyes, she reached down and tapped the author’s name with her finger.
    “I actually read Confessions ,” he said.
    “Mine?”
    “Pearson’s. But they weren’t his confessions—”
    “So you did hear of him?”
    He smiled. “I love you.”
    She placed a hand on his thigh.
    “Hey, watch it!” He brushed her hand away. “There’s people around.”
    “Oh, like that’s a major concern of yours.” She pulled her top down further, exposing flesh that hadn’t seen daylight in at least five years.
    The section of the deck they were reclining on was packed with other sun bathers offering their skin as sacrifice to the galaxy’s fiery center. A couple of young women were lying on their stomachs a few chairs away, topless.
    “What are you doing?” Jack asked her.
    “What?”
    “You’re exposing yourself to all these strapping young men. They’re liable to become jealous.”
    She ran a hand through her hair. “Won’t