Free Mr. Right Now by Kristina Knight Page A

talked right over him.
    “I know, this is probably just a vacation rebound thing, but if you hadn’t introduced us at the bar, I would probably still be moping up on the deck. Thinking about Herb and the bimbo and my kids.” Tears sprang into her eyes. “And now I’ve got him to think about. He asked me what I wanted out of life. Nobody’s ever asked me that before.”
    Mason smiled at Tilly. Maybe the introduction hadn’t been a mistake. Unlike sleeping with Casey. One out of two wasn’t bad. “And what is it you want?”
    Tilly giggled, stepped back to Wally and slid her hand into the crook of his elbow. “You know, I don’t know. And it’s completely alright.” She turned her head, smiling at Wally. He smiled up at her and clasped the hand holding tightly to his elbow.
    “Not knowing isn’t such a catastrophe,” Wally said. “You just start from scratch and figure it out as you go.”
    The two rested their foreheads against one another for a few seconds, smiling.
    An older couple passed the group on the way to the dance floor. They slid into a waltz and Wally pulled Tilly toward the floor, leaving Mason alone. Couples paired off across the room as the band continued to play. Other than the waitstaff, Mason couldn’t pick out any ship employees. He wanted to ask why the guests of honor just left, but without anyone to ask, he left the room.
    Mason wandered from the room, barely suppressing the urge to head straight to her room, bang on the door and demand answers. She had slept with him, left him nearly exposed on the deck and now she might be married to another man. What kind of woman did that?
    She hadn’t asked any questions before hopping on the lounge chair with him. Of course, he hadn’t asked Casey any questions, either.
    Turning a corner, Mason saw the casino ahead and stepped inside. Bells rang but no tokens clinked against the metal slot machine trays. Plastic cards and colorful elastic bungee cords connected the players to the machines. The casino gave all the players a free twenty-dollar session, and from the smiles on their faces, many of the gamblers were winning on the casino’s money.
    A blue-checked mini-skirt walked between several banks of one-armed bandits a few rows away. Mason lost sight of her when she turned between the quarter and dollar machines, but caught sight of her at the five-dollar slot. She was trying to get a bill into the feeder. No plastic card or bungee cord in sight.
    Interesting.
    The feeder finally sucked in the bill, and Casey sat in the chair. She didn’t use the arm but instead punched the Bet Credits button. He watched while she lost four credits, then won six. Par for the course.
    “Looks like you’ve got the machine’s number,” he teased. Most slot machines he had played allowed him to win back just enough to keep playing, but he never hit the jackpot. “Too bad you didn’t get mine.”
    Casey whirled in the chair, turning shocked eyes to Mason. She looked at him, her eyes drifting over his body, and then turned her concentration to the slot machine in front of her. She only said, “Hi.”
    Taking the chair next to her, Mason put his plastic card into the slot and then placed a bill into the feeder. He pulled the arm, watched as two cherries popped up and the third stopped between another cherry and a double bar. Chalk one up for the one-armed bandit.
    “You should put your card in the slot,” he said, motioning to the empty area. “Makes it easier to cash out.”
    Casey shrugged her shoulder. “Too much like a video game.”
    Mason begged to differ. Slot machines were video games; it didn’t matter whether you used a plastic card to track your winnings or dumped tokens into a bucket, but he didn’t tell Casey that.
    He pulled the arm again and watched one cherry, one diamond and one bar roll onto the screen. Nothing. He pulled the arm. Sooner or later, he’d hit something. Casey continued hitting the Bet Credits button.
    “I thought you