Jack & Jilted (21 page)

She’d never met anyone like him, much less gotten involved with someone so laid-back. He took things as they came at him. He didn’t plan. He barely seemed to care about anything, she thought with a wince, except for his freedom, which he equated with the Rascal.

And here she was, threatening the only thing he gave a damn about.

It wasn’t like I planned all this myself, she thought bitterly. It’s not like I woke up and thought, gee, how can I ruin a man’s life today?

She’d sequestered herself in the cabin, irritated with herself and Jack, if not the whole situation in general. At this point, doing something little and stupid just to feel better had escalated to big and really stupid for the sake of fixing the little-and-stupid, and she was tired of it. She needed a plan. She needed to put her life back in order.

She grabbed her spiral notebook and a pen and headed for the galley. Her stomach was growling—she’d missed lunch. She needed to eat and to think.

She opened the galley door, and there was Jack, munching disconsolately on a sandwich. He swallowed hard when he saw her.

“Hey, there,” he said in a subdued tone.

She nodded—rude, she knew. But she was still irritated and upset enough not to trust what might come out of her mouth. She put the notebook down on the table and rummaged through the refrigerator, deciding to make a sandwich for herself, as well. She threw together smoked turkey, Swiss cheese and avocado between honey-wheat bread slices slathered with deli mustard, and then grabbed a small carton of milk to go along with it. She sliced the sandwich in half and considered returning to her room, but the small table there was too tiny to fit both the food and her notebook. She bit her lip, then sat across from Jack.

“Did you want me to leave?” He’d finished his sandwich and was staring at her warily.

She shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

He stared for a few minutes as she ate. She clicked the pen and started writing Plan at the top of the page. It was hard to focus with him looking at her.

Finally she looked up. “There are cookies in the cupboard,” she offered. Maybe if he was eating, he’d be more distracted and therefore less distracting to her.

“I know,” he replied. “I was afraid this was going to happen.”

She sighed, putting the pen down. “Afraid what was going to happen?” she prompted, taking a bite of her sandwich. That would prevent her from making any untoward comments, at least.

“That I was going to screw up,” he said, his voice glum.

She sighed and finished chewing. She said, “It would be better if you’d said something earlier, when things started to bug you.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” he countered, as she took another bite. “It would’ve been the same thing, only earlier.” He paused, then continued in a lower voice, “What kind of a jerk would I have to be, besides, to complain to you when you’ve got all this…you know, stuff going on?”

“We’ve both got stuff going on,” she reminded him.

“Yeah,” he said, though it didn’t sound as if he believed it. “But it’s worse for you.”

She didn’t know how he calculated that, but she wasn’t going to argue with him. “So where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed his hands through his hair in a gesture of frustration. “I honestly don’t know.”

She sighed again and finished the rest of her sandwich in silence. After putting her dishes in the sink, she grabbed her notebook and motioned to him. “Come on.”

He looked at her as if she were holding a gun. “Where’re we going?”

“To your cabin. We’re having this out.” She almost laughed at his expression—would have laughed if the whole thing weren’t so depressing. “It’s not a root canal, Jack. It’s just talking.”

He scowled and said something under his breath, but he followed her anyway. When they got there, she put her notebook down on his desk and then took off her clothes.

The look of stunned surprise on his face did make her laugh. “Uh…I thought we were going to talk.”

“We are,” she said, climbing into bed.

“So…” He paused and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Okay, I’m an idiot. Why are you naked again?”

She smiled a little sadly. “Because sex is the one place we don’t seem to have any problems,” she said. “When it comes to sex, we’re always good.”

He nodded. “I noticed that, too.” He paused again. “Are we having sex now, then? As a precursor to the talk?”

She shook her head. “No, we’re going to have sex afterward. No matter what we talk about. That way, we’ll have something good to shoot for.”

“You can’t honestly tell me you’re going to want to have sex after a fight,” he said with disbelief. “Women never want sex when they’re angry.”

“If we’re angry, then we’re not done talking,” she said reasonably. “We’re going to hash this out, come to some conclusions, then we’ll have sex. Work from there.”

“This sounds nuts,” he said but obligingly took off his clothes and clambered into bed next to her. “All right, we’ll do this.”

She couldn’t help it, she chuckled. He just sounded so businesslike. “Why don’t you start by telling me what you’re feeling. What’s really bothering you.”

He squirmed uncomfortably. “This is very strange,” he prefaced. “Let’s see…What’s really bothering me?”

She waited, ignoring the expanse of bare chest in front of her and looking intently into his eyes instead.

He took a deep breath, looking pained. Then he let out: “We’ve only known each other little more than a few months, we met because you were about to get married, I’ve never lived with anyone and I was just getting used to working with you when now I’ve found out that we’re thinking of splitting my boat and possibly having a kid.”

“Wow,” she said. Then repeated. “Wow.”

“Do you hate me?” He turned over, staring at her. “Like I said, you’ve got a ton on your plate. Am I a wretched human being for dumping all that on you now?”

“No,” she said, still reeling from the sting. It wasn’t as if he’d said anything she hadn’t figured on her own. But hearing him put it out there so clearly, in such stark black-and-white detail…She shook her head. “You’re totally entitled to feeling whatever you’re feeling, Jack. You can’t just keep quiet and hope for the best. We need to talk about stuff like this.”

He sighed and then beamed at her. “This is why I fell in love with you,” he said. “You understand. You listen to me. You don’t fly off the handle or fall apart when things get hairy. You’re just there.”

He leaned forward, nuzzling her shoulder. Her mind wasn’t there, though—it was still mulling over what he’d said.

“Jack, would you say you’re not quite ready for what’s happening?”

He looked up, distracted from his caresses. “No, I’m not,” he admitted. “But who is, right? We’ll pull through it.”

“Mmm.” The sound meant nothing. Her brain continued to process.

He stopped, turning her face, forcing her to focus. “Were you really ready for all of this? Because you always seem so certain of everything. That was the other reason I didn’t say anything.”

She bit her lip. “I thought I was,” she finally said, shrugging. “I mean, it’s fast. And, yes, I was going to get married…”

She rolled over and muffled a growl of frustration into a pillow. “I don’t know,” she finished, rolling over again. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

“Shhh.” Funny how he’d been the one who was freaking out that morning and now here he was comforting her as she fell apart. “It’s going to be fine. I think our biggest problem was we were trying to figure out too much too soon. These things work out naturally. You’ll see.”

She felt her stomach clench. Living with the uncertainty for even longer? That was his solution?

They were very different people. No question about it.

He nuzzled more intently, his hand reaching up to cup her breast, and she felt her body start to respond, albeit less ardently than it would have if she weren’t so preoccupied. “Are we done discussing, then? You’re not angry with me?”

“I’m not angry with you,” she assured him. “And yes…we’re done discussing.”

She let him take her then, moving slowly, bringing her body around and letting her mind float free of stress, if only temporarily. Afterward, he dozed, a smile playing around his lips. He had been given a temporary reprieve, she thought, from making any life-changing decisions. Now they’d have to wait until they got to San Diego before they sorted things out. She got the feeling he would shoulder his responsibility, not be a coward. If he thought what was best for Chloe was staying and giving her a share of his boat and his life, then he would do it.

She thought about her notebook, about the word scrawled at the top of it: Plan.

She sighed, leaning back.

The thing was, she now had a plan.

She had to leave Jack. For both of their sakes.

ONLY IN SAN DIEGO a few hours and Jack was already pacing a hole through his deck planking. Ace and Jose had gone home for a few days R R, while he and Chloe had stopped by a local drugstore and gotten a pregnancy test. Now Chloe was belowdecks, divining his future with a small white stick. Depending on what showed up in the next five minutes, he’d know what he was in for.

Would it be so bad to spend the rest of your life with that woman?

No, it wouldn’t, he thought. Especially after the past few days. After his little blowup and consequent confession, she’d gone from upset to calm and supportive. She hadn’t breathed a word about future planning or the ship or anything else that was remotely stress inducing. Instead it had become very like their first week together, her botched “honeymoon.” They’d fished, talked…made love.

No matter what she said in the next ten minutes, no matter what their future held, he knew that she was the perfect person for him. He’d never find another woman who understood and anticipated his needs as well as she did. He’d be an idiot not to snap her up. He’d just ask her to stay on board with him, and eventually they’d iron out the details.

It was, in his mind, a perfect plan.

“Jack?”

Her voice was tentative, but he sprinted down the corridor to his cabin. “Yes?” he asked, his heart beating rapidly in his throat even as his stomach dropped to somewhere near his feet. “What’s the verdict?”

He’d meant for that to be a joke, of sorts, but the look on her face told him it wasn’t funny, even if he hadn’t already decided that for himself.

She looked…sad. No, heartbroken.

Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no…

“It’s negative,” she stated.

He tilted his head, not able to put together the words with the expression she was wearing. “Negative for what?” he asked, not sure he understood.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s negative for pregnancy.” And then, obviously seeing that he still wasn’t getting it, she said more slowly, “I’m not pregnant, Jack.”

He felt relief bowl over him like a tsunami. He let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding and said a heartfelt, “Thank God.”

She smiled weakly.

“Not that…I screwed that one up, too, huh,” he said, sitting next to her on his bed as he had countless times in the past. He put an arm around her shoulder. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know, Jack.”

She just sounded so melancholy. He squeezed her for a second. “You weren’t ready for it, either,” he said, then winced at the defensive quality of his voice.

She stood up, shrugging off his arm. “You’re right. I wasn’t. At some point, I do want a family, but this probably wouldn’t be the best way.”

Her voice sounded logical. Actually, for her, it sounded cold. Jack frowned. “It’s not like you don’t have time, Chloe,” he said, wondering if that was what was bothering her—the biological-clock thing. She was only—what—thirty? Women were having kids practically into their fifties these days.

“I know that, too,” she said, turning to look at him. “I completely agree with you, Jack, don’t worry. This all happened so fast—this thing between us—and this would’ve just been throwing gasoline on a fire. We didn’t need this kind of pressure.”

“I’m glad you see that,” he said, still tense. She wasn’t smiling, she wasn’t happy.

Something was very wrong.

She crossed her arms. “Just like you didn’t need the pressure of me barging in and asking to take a partnership interest in the Rascal.”

He nodded before he could stop himself. “I was in a bad way, financially speaking,” he said carefully. “I’m sure I could’ve pulled it out in time, but you made it possible for me to get back on my feet, and I appreciate that. Your wanting to become a partner…well, you have a lot of things going on in your life. I can’t blame you for seeing this as a way out.”

“That’s just the thing,” she said. “I didn’t see this as a way out. I saw this as…” She made an open gesture with her arms, as if she were trying to hug something enormous. “I saw this as something better.”

He smiled at the dreamy look in her eyes. “I don’t think there’s anything better than this.”

“Yeah, but the problem is,” she continued, “you don’t see ‘this’ as anything but yours.”

He stiffened. “It’s been my boat and my business for the past five years.”