Jack & Jilted (18 page)

Lily swallowed, then some of the panic receded in her eyes.

“You can trust him, too.” Chloe released Lily’s hand, feeling more at peace than she had since this whole ordeal had begun.

Tom looked grateful. Lily turned to him, the worry lines in her face smoothing out a bit. She squeezed his hand with both of hers. “I love you, baby,” she whispered.

He didn’t say anything in response. He cradled her head in his lap, stroking her hair, then leaning down and kissing her temple. It was one of the most tender things Chloe had ever seen. It was obvious that Lily was his world.

Chloe felt her throat close up. That’s what I want, she thought. Even with disaster looming all around them, they had each other. And it was enough.

She was in love with Jack McCullough. Whether or not he felt the same way, it was there. He might never be able to be in a committed relationship—he might never be able to fulfill her dreams. But for right now he was what she needed, and after a storm like this, she was beginning to realize there wasn’t always going to be a future to plan for. Sometimes you had to take life moment by moment.

Now was one of those times.

She left Tom and Lily, reassured that they were going to be all right, and went back to Jack’s cabin to wait. The storm dragged on for another two hours, and Chloe spent most of the time curled up, like Lily, in Jack’s bed, waiting for him. She had faith that he would pull them through the worst of it. She just knew that when he was finished, she wanted to be there. With him.

“LOOKS LIKE THE WORST is over,” Ace said, relief thick in his voice.

Jack nodded, for a second too tired to speak. That hadn’t been the worst storm he’d ever weathered, not by a long shot, but he wasn’t quite as young a man and this time he had two charter passengers and Chloe on board, counting on him. His crew knew what they’d signed up for. Tom and Lily were probably still hysterical. And Chloe…

He smiled. Chloe was a trooper. She was tougher than anybody, certainly that pansy ex of hers, would give her credit for. He imagined she was probably in her cabin or at his desk, coming up with a list of things they’d need to deal with when they got to Oahu.

“We’ll be in Hawaii in a day,” Jack said finally. “Jose, you okay to steer from here?”

“I’m fine,” he said. Thankfully, Jose was Zen-stoic. He could handle pretty much any crisis. He’d be a great captain of his own one day. “I’ll just make myself a pot of coffee.”

“Ace, you go get a few hours of sleep and then spell him,” Jack instructed. “I’m going to grab a few hours, too, but if anything comes up—”

“I’ll get you,” Jose said as if it went without saying. Which, Jack supposed, it did. “Go get some rest, boss.”

Jack nodded gratefully and headed down belowdecks to the cabins. He didn’t hear Tom and Lily, so he hoped that, with the gradual calm, they were asleep. He also hoped it hadn’t been too tough a trip for them. He knew this was Chloe’s last trip with the Rascal, but that could only happen if she got enough money to pay her mortgage payment—and that could only happen if the Rorshans paid. Although, after a trip like this, if they complained and tried to cut their payment, he wouldn’t blame them. Nobody signed on for a honeymoon vacation with a squall.

Maybe I can help Chloe pay for it, he thought, heading numbly back to his own cabin. He didn’t want her to leave, not by any stretch of the imagination. But he wasn’t bastard enough to ruin her credit and her plans just so he could selfishly spend more time with her against her will.

He might be commitment-phobic and have a boatload of issues, but he really did love her.

He opened his door, surprised to find the battery-cube lights glowing. And Chloe was in his bed, sleeping, looking like an angel in tangled sheets.

He stood there for a second, studying her. Her hair was loose, trailing across his pillow. The blanket was pulled around her, and she snuggled in. She had to have been scared, he thought, gently sitting down on the bed next to her. She was tough, sure. He never underestimated her on that front. But she was fragile, too. He remembered what he’d first thought the moment she’d walked onto the Rascal and into his life. She’d seemed so delicate she might shatter under one harsh look. He’d revised his assessment since then, but the delicacy was still a part of her, one he treasured.

She stirred, turning to look at him. “Jack,” she breathed, sitting up and wrapping her arms around him. It wasn’t sexual, at least not intentionally. She clung to him as if she couldn’t bear to let him go, and that’s when he realized he was holding her the same way. He’d had close calls before, but he’d never had someone waiting there when he came out on the other side…same as he’d never had someone he cared about so deeply.

He stroked the back of her head, smoothing her hair down her back. When his hand left her hair, he realized he had moved onto bare skin. She wasn’t wearing anything beneath his sheet and comforter. She’d been waiting for him, naked, in his bed.

His hand froze on her hip as his mind and body temporarily shorted out in confusion on what to do next.

“Jack?” she asked quietly. “Are you all right?”

If he made the move on her, they’d have one fantastic night, he already knew that. But he also knew she was planning on leaving as soon as this trip was over. Did that mean she’d jump on a plane as soon as she got to Hawaii? Was this going to be a goodbye encounter? Or did this mean he’d have a chance to keep her and buy himself time to figure out his commitment issues? And maybe move on to something more meaningful?

And if it was a goodbye and nothing else, was he going to turn her down on principles or risk missing this last experience of her, something he’d probably regret for the rest of his life?

“Jack?” Chloe repeated.

The concern in her voice registered, and he sighed heavily, kissing her neck. “Sorry, baby,” he murmured. “It’s been a hell of a night.”

“The ship’s all right, though.” It wasn’t even a question. Her faith in him was mind-boggling.

“Yeah, the ship’s all right,” he repeated. “We’ll get to Oahu tomorrow, and from all the reports, there won’t be any more problems. Smooth sailing from here on out.”

“That’s good,” she said, nuzzling against his chest. “I was worried about you.”

He smiled, kissing her on the lips gently. “I was pretty worried there for a while myself,” he admitted. Then he stroked her collarbone with one finger. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

He didn’t want to ask her point blank What exactly are your intentions here? But confusion warred with exhaustion, and when she stroked his shoulders and kissed him, he found himself unable to ask her anything. She reached for the edge of his T-shirt, pulling it over his head, and he let her. She un-buckled the fly of his sea-soaked jeans, and he stood up and peeled them off, his skin feeling clammy and numb. He kicked off all his clothes and left them in a pile.

She held the sheet open with invitation, and he wordlessly climbed in beside her. She made a little squeak of protest when she moved against him.

“Sorry,” he said, referring to the cold state of his body. “God, you feel good. Warm.”

She took a deep breath and then she climbed on top of him. He moaned, and not just from the naked contact of their skin but from the delicious feeling of calm seeping through his tired muscles. “That better?” she murmured against his ear.

“You are better to me than I deserve,” he said with feeling, stroking her sides with his hands as their legs entwined. “This is heaven. I could fall asleep.”

He could feel her tense against him. “Uh…okay,” she said finally.

He laughed. “But I get the feeling I’m not going to.”

She smiled down at him, her hair framing both of their faces. “Well, that’s okay, too,” she said, her tone wry.

His body was warming up—in more ways than one. He leaned up and kissed her more thoroughly now, and her breasts moved against his chest, her legs splaying outside of his hips. He reached up and cupped her breasts, and she made a low moan of pleasure. Her hips moved downward, and he could feel her wetness brush against his penis. The shudder that hit him was impossible to stop. All his feelings of fatigue seemed to burn away in the face of this, the two of them. He went rock-hard, his body straining to enter hers.

“Chloe,” he breathed against her mouth. “I feel like I’ve wanted you forever.”

“Then take me.” She arched back, and he felt the tip of his erection dip inside her.

His hands shot down her body, fingers digging into the curves of her hips before cupping her buttocks. He wasn’t wearing a condom…

“Wait,” he started to say. Tried to say.

She was closing her eyes and moving rhythmically against him, teasing him. He dipped a little farther, the head of his cock disappearing into the juncture of her thighs. She paused, cradling him, and he felt her shiver against him. “Please,” she whispered. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Rational thought fled. He pulled her down as he pushed his hips upward and he slid inside her, feeling her tight, damp passage caressing the whole hard length of him. “Chloe,” he choked out. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex like this. Probably because it had never been like this.

“Oh, Jack!” she cried, twisting her hips in a circle that almost made him come right there. “It feels so good…”

He let her dictate the tempo, watching her ride him as he caressed her hips and thighs, gritting his teeth against the torrent of sensations burning through him. She moved with the grace of a dancer and the sensual skill of some legendary courtesan. His body was aflame, all memories of the cold and the damp and the fear disintegrated. All that mattered was being here, with her, now.

She started to pick up in speed, her breathing going to the telltale quickness of a woman on the edge.

“Are you close?” he asked, straining to keep his own need leashed.

She couldn’t respond, only nodded and continued her relentless motions. He sat up, kissing her hard, and she kissed him back ferociously, their tongues intertwining as she moved to wrap her legs around his waist, bringing her clit in closer friction with the top of his cock. She threw her head back and cried out with pleasure, constricting around him as he drove higher and harder against her.

“Jack!” she shouted, shuddering against him.

His cock was throbbing painfully, his whole body clamoring for release, but he rode her through the waves of her orgasm and then held her gently as she held him, leaning her sweat-dampened forehead against his shoulder. He waited for her to look over, into his eyes.

“I think I love you, Chloe,” he murmured.

She stared at him solemnly.

He didn’t want her to answer or feel pressured, so he tenderly kissed her again. Then, with one fluid motion, he moved her to her back, staying buried between her thighs. She smiled at him then, her arms reaching out to his waist, her legs staying hooked over his hips as she tilted her pelvis up to receive as much of him as he could give her.

He moved slowly, savoring each sensation, and she moved with him. They were so close—it was cliché, but he felt as if they’d blurred boundaries, as if he couldn’t distinguish between her body and his. He wanted her. He loved her. He had her.

She was moving in time with him, the two of them picking up speed, clutching at each other with a frantic passion that was impossibly intense, when he heard her let out a squeak of surprise before letting out a rippling cry. He felt her body clench around him again, the tremors of orgasm lapping at him, and he gave in to his own need. He moaned, shuddering, emptying himself in her, and he lost his mind in oblivion.

After long moments, he collapsed against her, feeling hot and wrung out and sated. And, above all, happy. He nuzzled against her neck, then kissed her face, gentle kisses that seemed silly and joyful after what they’d just done. Finally realizing he was probably getting heavy, he rolled off her but keeping skin contact. He didn’t want to be apart from her. Not for a second.

She was quiet, only the uneven sound of her breathing could be heard.

“Are you all right?” he asked, grinning.

She turned to him, her eyes huge and round. “Jack,” she said, hesitant. “What did we just do?”

He started as if she’d slapped him. When, in fact, reality had smacked him a good one.

Sex. Without a condom.

Oh, God, what did we just do?

“WELL, TOM LILY ARE flying home instead of sailing.” Jack spoke, standing on the deck of the Rascal in a sleeveless shirt and a pair of shorts. “I can’t blame them, really. They are going to spend a couple of days here on the island, though, to make up for it.”

“That’s nice,” Chloe said absently. “They probably want to replace some of the scarier moments with some pleasant ones. It’s their honeymoon, after all.”

“Exactly,” Jack said. “They’re great people. I offered to discount their cruise—it wasn’t their fault, and they had a lot more traumatic time than Mrs. Newcombe. Tom said no, that there was nothing we could have done about a freak storm. He also said if it weren’t for our crew, he and Lily might not have survived.” Jack smiled. “They’re just good people.”

Chloe smiled, too, thinking of the couple in their cabin, hanging on to each other in the belly of the storm. “Yes, they are.”

Chloe and Jack fell silent. It was an uncomfortable, awkward silence, and for them it was unusual.

Chloe looked out from the dock to the island. She’d never seen Hawaii before. The place looked like every single postcard she’d ever received from a vacationing friend or neighbor—only a lot more so. Aquamarine water rolling against white sand beaches under a perfect turquoise sky. She would’ve been gaping with awe if it weren’t for her mind drowning out any other thought: You might be pregnant.

The island’s beauty was lost on her.

After the trauma of the storm and her decision that she was falling in love with Jack—even after that short a time period, in such unbelievable circumstances—she’d made a rash decision. She hadn’t slept with very many people, admittedly, and with those people she’d always been scrupulously careful. She’d enjoyed herself, but safety had always been paramount over sheer pleasure. Last night she’d been reckless. Stupid. So glad to be alive and with Jack that she’d let her body do what it wanted and the hell with the consequences.

Well, welcome to hell. Consequences coming right up.

“Ace and Jose are going out for the day—and most of the night,” Jack said. “I doubt either of them will be back before morning. But by tomorrow afternoon or so, we’ll probably head back to San Diego.” He paused. “Is that okay? Did you want to stay longer? Or…hell, are you going to be okay crossing the ocean again? The weather reports are all clear for the week, but I wouldn’t blame you….”

“No, I’ll go back on the boat,” Chloe said quickly.

They fell into that painful silence again.

Chloe finally cleared her throat.

“First of all,” began Jack, “I am so sorry for not being more careful last night. I feel horrible.”

She shook her head. “I was there, too,” she protested. “I was just as responsible, trust me.”

“I want you to know that I haven’t done that before. With anyone.” He grimaced. “It was incredible.”

She closed her eyes. Yes, it certainly had been. Which was why the shock of it hit her so hard. She couldn’t say she was entirely sorry that it happened, even though she knew it was ill-advised, to say the least, that it had happened at all.

“But it was still dangerous,” Jack said.

She nodded, feeling weary. Of course, he was right—and more than that, he was logical. He was being rational and saying the right things. So why was she feeling so depressed?

It should have been beautiful, romantic. Uncomplicated. Now it sounded like a criminal case.

I thought love was supposed to be different than this.

She quashed the thought. “I agree. Of course.”

He squinted at her. “Are you sure you’re ready to talk about this now?”

Was she? “Of course,” she demurred.

He put his hands in his pockets. “There is one other thing,” he said slowly. “I don’t suppose you’re on the Pill or anything….”

Okay, she wasn’t ready for this conversation after all. “I think I’m going to go onshore,” she blurted.

He nodded in return, his eyes a little surprised. She wished he’d hold her, hug her, comfort her somehow, instead of being so bloody levelheaded. But no, he just said, “I’ll have my cell phone on if you need me. We should get reception here.”

“All right,” she said numbly, then grabbed her purse and fled off the dock and up to the island itself. She didn’t know where she was going and frankly she didn’t care. she just needed to be away…away from the Rascal, away from Jack. Away from reality, if only for a minute or two.

She might be pregnant, she thought, looking over some skimpy bikinis and boxes of chocolate-covered macadamia nuts in a small shop. She loved Jack, but this…

I can’t even get him to agree to work with me. How could I get him to be okay with this?

Her cell phone rang, startling her. “Hello?”

“Oh, good, you’re able to answer.” Her mother’s voice sounded perky. “You’re never going to believe what’s been happening!”

I could say the same thing to you, Chloe almost said. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Her mother sounded downright gleeful. “First, we got a call from her.”

“Her?”

“The mother. You know, Gerald’s mother.”

Chloe flinched. As if she didn’t have enough problems. “What did she want?”

Her mother paused, obviously surprised by Chloe’s un-characteristic bluntness. “Uh…well, apparently she decided that Gerald ought to keep the house after all.”

Chloe felt anger well up inside her like…like lava, she thought, seeing a miniature plastic volcano. “I told him. I warned him that this thing was going to be taken care of this month. If she’s trying to jerk me around, I don’t care how many lawyers they have, I’m going for blood.”

“Good heavens, dear!” Her mother sounded truly shocked. “Actually, it’s just the opposite. She’s agreed to pay you back your half deposit and cover all costs of changing the deed, putting it in Gerald’s name. So it would be off your hands.”

Chloe made a humph noise. “Why the sudden change of heart, I wonder?”

“I think it’s because she likes the neighborhood—and the school district.” Her mother paused again. “I don’t mean to upset you with this, but she did mention that Gerald was probably getting married. To that other woman.”

Chloe gritted her teeth. Gerald’s mother had deliberately dropped that in to hurt her, she felt quite sure. Well, she had bigger issues in her immediate future. “Fine. That’s fine. Have her send over the check and any paperwork I have to sign. I should be back next week.”

“But there’s more.” Her mother didn’t gossip often, but when she did, it was with all the enthusiasm of a kid with a banana split. “Guess who else called?”

“Mom,” Chloe warned, rubbing at her temple with her free hand. She thought Hawaii was supposed to be relaxing.

“Gerald called. Can you believe it?” Her mother all but crowed the announcement. “He said he had to talk to you, that it was urgent. I told him you were on another cruise and wouldn’t be reachable. Can you believe it? The nerve of that wretch!”

“If it’s so urgent, I’m sure his lawyers will call me,” Chloe said, not caring at all about Gerald anymore. Which was a good sign, she supposed. “Anything else?”

“Are you all right, dear? You sound out of sorts.”

Out of sorts? Didn’t begin to cover it. The man I’m in love with might or might not be in love with me but probably can’t commit to me, and now I might be carrying a child that he doesn’t want and which will doubtlessly push him over the edge.

Out of sorts, indeed.

“I’m just tired, Mom,” Chloe countered, her rote answer for when things were going wrong but she didn’t want to discuss it.

“You’re working too hard,” her mother gave her pat response. “You’ll be home, what, tomorrow?”

“No, this is a little longer cruise,” Chloe said, then grinned. “I’m in Oahu, actually.”

“Oahu?” her mother squeaked. “Hawaii?”

“That’s the one.”

“And you went in a boat?”

“People do it all the time, Mom,” Chloe said.

“Oh, right.” Her mother’s voice crackled with awe and humor.

“I’m handling everything, Mom,” Chloe said, her voice a shade too sharp. “I’ll call when I get back to town.”

For a second, Chloe wished she could spill everything, talk it all out. But would her mother be sympathetic? Or whip out her pen and organizer and write her a checklist of all her options and what she needed to take action on next? Chloe didn’t need that, not right now. Right now, she needed…

Comfort.

She was crying before she realized it, and people were starting to stare. She mumbled a tearful goodbye to her mother and hung up. With blurred vision she retraced her steps and headed back to the Rascal. She rushed on board to find Jack still on deck, drinking a beer and looking out at the water.

“Chloe?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

She waved him away with one hand and ran to her cabin, throwing herself down on her narrow cot. She cried herself exhausted, and then finally fell into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

JACK SAT IN HIS CABIN, feeling…well, feeling a lot of things.

Confusion probably topped the list, he had to admit. He rearranged things on his desk endlessly, as though he were playing a game of Tetris, moving folders and ledgers and his calculator with no purpose. He had had enough problems just dealing with the fact that he was falling in love with Chloe. He was wrestling with the dilemma of how to make this “partnership” work, as well—how much freedom to give up, considering he’d already be living with her and working with her. And now this.

She’d stopped crying, as far as he could hear, but he felt wrecked. He hated seeing her hurt and hated more knowing that he was the cause of it.

How could you have been so stupid?

He’d known for a second that night that it was the wrong thing to do, but in that pivotal moment he’d ignored his conscience and gone for it anyway. And now…well, there they were.

Can you raise a kid on a boat?

For a second, he had a picture of himself with a son, standing on the bow. Jack could see himself teaching the kid how to steer, how to fish, swim. It was idyllic. A far cry from what he’d grown up with. He’d be damned if he raised his kid the way he was raised.

But then, he knew some things just happened. You went back to what you were used to. It was a big part of why he’d never thought of having kids. Now the possibility, the potential reality of it was staring him in the face. Maybe a more apt analogy was the possibility he had a laser sight aimed between his eyes. So right behind confusion, his next ranking emotion would have to be classified as fear. Plain and simple.

He wasn’t proud, but he wasn’t about to start lying to himself. Not with this much at stake.

The guys were still out, as he’d predicted. He glanced at his watch: ten o’clock. Chloe hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, as far as he knew. She had to be starving, upset or not, and she hadn’t left her cabin since running on board early that afternoon.

He got up and headed for the galley. He cut up some fruit and cheese and got some of the crackers she favored and set it all out on a plate. Then he headed for her cabin and knocked on the door. She didn’t answer, which worried him, so he opened it.

She woke up when he turned on the light and she blinked owlishly. “I’m sorry I woke you,” he said, immediately contrite. “I just…I figured you hadn’t eaten anything.”

“You cooked?”

He grimaced. “Um, sort of.”

He sat down next to her on her cot, taking as little room as possible—there wasn’t much to the bed to begin with. She sat up, propped up on one elbow. “I don’t know that I feel hungry,” she said.

“You still should eat something,” he pressed. “You’re upset. You’ll feel better after you’ve had some nourishment.”

She sighed, then shrugged, reaching for a piece of apple.

“Let me do the talking,” he said with more bravado than he felt. “We did something…well, probably not all that bright last night. But it’s not the end of the world. It was really emotional, and I’m done beating myself up about it. And you should be, too.”

She sat up at his stringent tone. “I’m not beating myself up about last night,” she protested, then looked down when his stare bore into her. “Not as much as I was, anyway.”

“Good, because it would be a waste of time. We did it, it’s done. Next issue.”

“It’s the next issue that has me so…” She made a futile gesture with her hands, a spinning motion. “It’s like being in that storm last night. Only about a thousand times worse.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” he said with feeling and then felt like a heel when her face crumpled with remorse. “But I steered us through that storm last night, remember? It’s disorienting, but if you keep your head about you, you get through it. This is the same sort of thing.”

“So, what, I should…buck up?” Her tone was incredulous.

“I’m not saying that,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her. She felt chilly to him. “I’m saying I got us through last night. I’ll get us through this time.”

She blinked at him.

“Good grief,” he said, offended. “What did you think I’d do? Abandon you?”