Cruiseshipped

Brooks and I met three years ago when my best friend's boyfriend held a party to propose to her in front of all their friends—in the middle of his goat farm.

Yes. You heard me. His goat farm.

When my eyes traveled across the driveway that night and landed on Brooks, I didn't count to ten. I didn't consult the saints. I took off at a casual pace, walking straight toward him, my hips swaying and my head held high. How could I not? Here in the middle of podunk Ohio stood the most captivating man I'd ever laid eyes on.

There's one small problem: Brooks fights fires in a small midwestern town, and I live in Boston with my family and all the culture and opportunities a big city has to offer. So, after the best weekend of my life, I returned home, single. And I put him out of my mind—mostly—at least I tried to.

But now Brooks is here, on this cruise. And just like before, I can't keep my eyes off him, especially when he's singing the Ohio State fight song off-key, with hand motions, on the stage of the dueling pianos show. Or when he's lounging by the ship's pool in only his board shorts. Ay, Mami. Is it hot in the Caribbean, or is it just that fireman?

I need to pull it together before I make the worst mistake of my life—falling in love with a man who's committed to living a thousand miles away from me.