Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I opened my eyes to the sight of Jackson's shirtless form. He was lying on his side facing me, his breathing deep and even, his eyelashes inky against his tanned skin. He was so handsome, he seemed almost unreal. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I needed to get my head on straight first.

It wasn't just about his physique—though his body was incredible. It was… Being with Jackson was like coming home. And I hadn't realized how lost I'd felt.

Admitting that to myself was scary. But the idea of trusting him again was even more terrifying.

I closed my eyes and replayed the past few days, from reconnecting with Jackson to Edward's surprise to Jackson's declaration to Edward's departure. It had been…a lot.

I didn't regret turning Edward down. There was no way I could marry him. I think, deep down, I'd always known that. But his comments about wanting something that was "a fantasy" had struck their mark, even if I hadn't deemed them worthy of a response.

Love. Passion. Those things can and will fade. And when they do, you'll realize just how wrong you were.

Maybe those hadn't been Edward's exact words, but that was what I'd heard.

I didn't want to think this…thing between Jackson and me was lust, but sex had never been an issue for us. Trust had. Honesty.

Would this time be different?

I'd said this was only for one night. I'd wanted closure, and yet here I was, considering more. More…sex? A relationship?

So much had changed, including us. We were better equipped to withstand challenges, but would our passion cool with time? I didn't want to think so. Besides, the mere idea seemed laughable. Jackson and I were just as attracted to each other now—fourteen years later—as we had been then.

I inhaled and let it out slowly, trying to push away the negative thoughts and consider what I wanted. What I believed.

Jackson made me feel safe. He'd kept me safe throughout the trip, even if he worried his feelings for me compromised his focus. I understood his concern, but if anything, the fact that he loved me made me believe he was even more motivated to protect me.

Sure, I'd accused him of acting out of jealousy last night, but Jackson was right to remain vigilant. And of the three of us, Jackson was the one who'd kept his cool.

I wanted him to stay. On the boat. In my life.

I wanted more time with him. More time to explore what this was. What we could be, despite my fears.

"I can hear you thinking from over here." Jackson's morning voice was deeper, husky.

I couldn't help it. I laughed and opened my eyes. "Morning."

I still couldn't believe he was back in my life. In my bed. It had been a shock to see him there yesterday morning, and the results still hadn't worn off today. I didn't know how long it would take me to get used to the idea of waking up next to him every day, but it made me smile.

"How are you feeling?" Jackson asked.

I stretched. "Okay. You?"

"Okay," he said, though he seemed unsure.

"I'm sorry for putting you in an awkward situation last night."

He scrubbed a hand over his face, tucking his arm behind his head. "It wasn't your fault your ex showed up."

"No." I slipped my hand beneath my cheek. "But I shouldn't have accused you of acting out of jealousy."

He chuckled. "You weren't wrong. I was jealous."

I linked my hand with his. "Surely you see that it's over between Edward and me, right?"

Jackson gave my hand a squeeze then released it. "For you, yes. Though I'm concerned."

"About what he'll do?"

He lifted a shoulder. "I'll tell Hudson, and they'll keep an eye on things."

"Then what's concerning you?"

He dragged a hand over his head, his eyes focused on the ceiling. "I laid it all on the line last night. And I know the timing wasn't ideal, but I just have to ask…is this a rebound for you?"

"What?" I propped myself up on my elbow. "Jackson. No." I placed my hand on his chest, hoping he'd hear the sincerity in my tone. "This isn't a rebound."

"Then what is it?"

I gnawed on my lip, not wanting to ruin whatever this was. I ultimately settled on, "A…reconnection."

He groaned. "That sounds even more vague."

"I didn't mean for it to sound vague. I guess I'm just still trying to process everything. I know that's probably not what you want to hear. But it's the truth."

"I get it," he said. "I do. And I'm not trying to pressure you, but I want you to know that I meant what I said last night." He took my hand in his. "I want more. I'm willing to fight for more."

Jackson wasn't the same man as before. He was willing to fight for me. It was…it was a lot to take in. I had a lot to consider.

He'd been assigned to protect me temporarily. But he lived in Los Angeles and often traveled for work. I lived in London. Would he move? Expect me to?

I dragged a hand through my hair, watching a palm tree swaying through the windows. "What would that even look like?"

"Whatever we want it to," he said.

Could it truly be that simple?

I shook my head. Why was I even considering this?

I'd spent a week with the man. One glorious week. I tried to tell myself that this was a fling, a consequence of being in such close quarters. But even I knew it was more than that. I couldn't imagine many people spending every waking moment together, navigating all sorts of challenges on the Athena . We were a good team.

But that didn't mean our relationship would hold up in the real world. We were living on island time. This was a vacation. Of course it was easy.

Or as easy as sailing the Thorny Path in a thirty-five-foot sailboat could be.

"Sloan." He took my hand in his and held it over his sextant tattoo. Over his heart. "Do you want to know why I got this tattoo?"

"Because you like sailing?"

His eyes searched mine as if waiting for me to realize something. Some piece of the puzzle I was missing.

"Look closer." He tapped his chest, and I leaned in.

Right on the horizon, worked in so subtly I'd missed it before, were the letters SEM in tiny print. My initials. I didn't think that was a coincidence, but I wanted to hear the words from his mouth.

"It was around the time of Greer's wedding, and I'd never felt so…lost. I got it because it reminded me of you. You've always had this…" He smiled. "Incredible urge to explore. To push yourself. When you put your mind to something—" he tucked my hair behind my ear, cupping my cheek "—you're unstoppable."

I smiled, both at his praise and because his words reminded me of the friendship bracelet Brooklyn had given me with "unstoppable" on it. But Jackson wasn't done.

"As you know, the sextant is a symbol of orientation. A valuable navigation tool that will help guide you home. And I always hoped it would bring me home—to you."

That was why my initials were inked on the horizon, tattooed over his heart.

"Jackson," I whispered, a tear trailing down my face.

He'd done this. He'd branded his skin with a visible reminder of me that he'd carried with him for years. The words "I love you" sat on my tongue, begging to be spoken. But…they wouldn't come out.

It wasn't that I didn't love him. I was scared.

"You don't have to say anything." He dried my tears with his thumbs. "I know you're not ready. But I also need you to know that I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you." Hearing him say that meant a lot to me. There was no pressure. No expectations. Just love.

I melted at his words and the sincerity and tenderness in his eyes. I leaned in and kissed him, craving his touch as much as the connection.

"What about Hudson?" I asked.

"I was thinking…"

"Uh-oh. That's dangerous," I teased, a smile playing at my lips. He narrowed his eyes at me. "Okay." I smiled, a full one this time. "What were you thinking?"

"Won't Greer think it's strange when you show up in Puerto Rico with someone else?"

I scrunched up my face. "Good point. I hadn't considered that."

But I had been thinking about how it would look if Jackson asked for a reassignment. How it might reflect poorly on him. I didn't want my decisions to negatively impact Jackson's career.

"What if…" He sighed. "What if I stayed on until Puerto Rico?"

"And then what?"

"And then—" he lifted my hand to his mouth, kissing each of my fingers "—we'll reevaluate."

"We can't sleep together if you're going to stay on as my bodyguard." I brought his hand to my cheek, sinking into his touch.

"I know," he said. "It won't be easy. But it'll be nice to have the time to get to know each other again without sex confusing matters."

I arched my brow. Part of me had expected him to fight me on that.

He chuckled, still touching me. Always touching me. "Why? You don't think I can do it?"

I let out a puff of air. "I don't know if I can."

He laughed then stood.

"Hey." I grabbed for him, not ready to stop cuddling. "Where are you going?"

"Breakfast then boat repairs." He pulled on a shirt. "Staying in bed is only going to tempt me."

I flopped back on the bed with a groan. I knew he was right, but that didn't mean I was happy about it.

"Come on." He yanked on my leg. "I'll make you breakfast."

"You know you don't have to cook for me, right? We can have the private chef come over, or we can order room service."

I stood, and he pulled me into a hug. My body melted into his hold, his touch conveying so much more than even his words. I love you. I'm here for you. I've got you.

"I like cooking for you." I smiled at his words. He released me and headed for the door. "I'll give you some privacy to get changed."

I could hear Jackson moving around in the kitchen as I got ready for the day. I didn't know what the future held for Jackson and me, but that was okay. All I had to do right now was focus on taking things one day at a time.

When I joined Jackson in the kitchen, he was cutting up vegetables. "Whatcha making?" I leaned against the counter.

"Omelets." He placed his hand on my lower back as he reached around me for a spatula. "Sound good?"

"Sounds great." I felt a zing race up my spine just from that simple touch. "What can I do?"

"You want to cut up some fruit while I do the eggs?"

"Sure." I went over to the fridge. There was something relaxing about being in the kitchen together. We fell into an easy rhythm, sharing tasks and making conversation.

"What did you want to do today?" he asked.

"I'd like to go to town at some point. I was hoping to get a souvenir for Brooklyn."

He grabbed some eggs from the fridge. "We could do that after we talk to the mechanic. I also need to check in with Huxley security and update Hudson."

"Sounds like a busy day."

He lifted a shoulder. "All in a day's work."

"Is that what I am to you?" I teased. "Work?"

He grasped my chin, bringing me closer as if to kiss me. "No." He released me and stepped back. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," I said. "I like it when you touch me."

"Sloan," he groaned. "You're going to be the death of me."

I smirked. It wasn't the first time he'd told me that. And I didn't think it would be the last.

"So, besides going into town," Jackson said, clearly trying to steer us to safer ground, "is there anything you want or need to do?"

"I need to check in with my family. I promised Brooklyn I'd call, and I know Graham is waiting for an answer from me on a few things."

"You probably don't want to hear this," Jackson said, chopping the bell peppers. "But Huxley needs better security protocols. This isn't the first time they've failed a high-profile guest—an owner, no less."

"I'll mention it to Graham and Jasper, so we can discuss it with the board after I return. If you have any specific recommendations, I'd love to hear them."

"Oh, I have plenty of suggestions," he said. "But the board probably won't like them."

"Tell me about them. Please?"

Jackson sautéed the peppers while I washed the fruit. It was so nice to have an abundance of fresh produce. During our longer stretches on the boat, food choices could get limited.

"First, I'd conduct a security assessment of the organization as a whole, as well as specific Huxley Grand properties—mostly those in larger cities or with higher traffic. Based on my stays with Nate, I already have a number of suggestions for facility and asset security, as well as human security. Many of them are simple tweaks that will ensure the safety of all guests. But I also have more targeted recommendations for the VIP or high-profile guests."

I nodded, impressed. "The comfort and safety of our guests and employees are paramount."

"Yet it seems like an afterthought. First, the incident with Brooklyn's birthday, and now this?" He set down the spatula and dragged a hand over his head. "You're one of the owners, for fuck's sake. What happened is unacceptable."

"Brooklyn's birthday was…" I gnashed my teeth. The thought that paparazzi had been able to sneak in and take a picture was infuriating. "Wrong."

"Should've never happened," Jackson said.

"I completely agree. But as to last night, security can't keep someone out if I forget to tell them." That was on me.

"No, but this isn't the first time I've been disappointed by the lack of protocols and proper training."

I loved how passionate Jackson was. How knowledgeable. It was sexy. I leaned over to kiss him then stopped myself. Right. No sex. No…kissing. "If you didn't already have a job, I'd hire you."

Though the idea of hiring him had merit.

Jackson said nothing, his attention on the omelets. His silence felt somehow intentional. But I didn't understand why.

When the food was ready, we carried it out to the patio. The waves crashed, and a gecko scurried across the stone. I stared out at the horizon, watching a boat in the distance. As much as I loved sailing and looked forward to being on the water, I was grateful to be back on land. Even if it didn't feel like I was on very solid footing at the moment.

After breakfast, Jackson went inside to call his boss, so I decided to call Brooklyn. She answered on the second ring.

"Brooklyn, hey." I smiled at her face on the screen.

"Auntie Sloan!" She squinted. "Jeez. It's so sunny there."

"It's a beautiful day." I panned the camera around, showing her my view.

"You're in Turks and Caicos, right?"

"That's right." I turned the camera back to me. I'd been sending my family emails and updates of my sailing adventures. Brooklyn always replied almost immediately, and I loved that she was so interested in sailing.

"Are you going to be able to get your boat fixed?" she asked.

"Hopefully." I dragged a hand through my hair. "Jackson and I are going down to talk to the mechanic in a little bit."

"Where is he? Can I talk to him?"

"Jackson?" I glanced toward the house. "He's inside. He's on the phone right now, or I'd let you say hi."

She leaned in, cupping her mouth as if to impart a secret. "I didn't realize he had so many tattoos."

I laughed, though it sounded nervous to my ears. "I, uh… Yeah. He does. What makes you say that?"

"One of the pictures you sent from the snorkeling had Jackson in it."

"Oh." Oops.

"The snorkeling has been amazing," I said, eager to take the spotlight off Jackson.

"I loved the picture of the coral. And the manta ray. And the sea turtle," she gushed. "So cute!"

"Not the one of the shark?"

Her eyes went wide. "No way. Weren't you scared?"

"Nurse sharks are pretty docile, fortunately."

"That's what Emmy said when I showed her the pictures, but still!" Her eyes were wide.

"Is that Sloan?" Nate called in the background.

"Hey, Nate!"

He came into view, chewing an apple. He seemed to scrutinize me. "How's it going?"

"Good," I said quickly. Perhaps too quickly. "Yeah."

He arched an eyebrow, questioning. I gave a subtle shake of my head, silently asking him to drop it. Nate turned to Brooklyn with a smile. "B, can you give Auntie Sloan and me a minute?"

"Sure! I'm going to grab my guitar so I can play a song for you." She ran off, and I braced myself for whatever Nate was going to say.

"Tell me the truth. Are things not going well with Jackson?"

Quite the opposite, in fact, not that I was going to admit that to my brother. Jackson had told me he loved me. That he was ready to fight for us. And I wanted to believe him.

I cleared my throat. "It's going fine."

I changed topics, and we talked for a little bit, about the new show his studio was producing and what was going on with Knox, Jasper, and Graham.

Finally, I said, "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask…" Nate grinned, implying that he might not choose to answer.

I rolled my eyes.

His expression softened, his teasing tone gone. "What's going on, Sloan?"

"How did you…" I chewed on my lip. "After everything with Trinity, how did you get past that to be able to trust someone and let them in?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll tell you what I told Brooklyn. Trusting someone is a leap of faith. There are no guarantees."

"But how did you know you could trust Emerson? How did you know she was the one?" I wanted something more concrete. Needing something more solid after everything I'd been through.

"It was less about me and more about Emerson. She showed me time and time again that she was here for me. For Brooklyn. Whether it was tackling a paparazzo at Brooklyn's birthday party or supporting me, Emerson is always here for us."

"What about…" I tried to think of how to phrase my question so it wouldn't be offensive. "Well, are you ever worried she's with you for the wrong reasons?"

He furrowed his brow. "Sloan, what's going on? Is this about my relationship or yours?"

"I was just curious. That's all."

He frowned. "Because of Edward?"

"Um…" I rolled my lips between my teeth then said, "Edward and I broke up."

His shoulders relaxed. "Thank fuck."

"You really did not like him, did you?"

"Since you're no longer with him, I can finally say that he was smarmy."

"Smarmy?" I shook my head. "What are you—eighty?"

"When you live and work in Hollywood, you get used to spotting who's fake. And he always seemed…" He paused as if considering his word choice. "I could never quite tell if he was being genuine."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Would you have listened?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fair."

"He was fine, but he wasn't the man for you."

"And who do you imagine is?" I asked, both annoyed that Nate knew me so well and genuinely curious.

He rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know. But off the top of my head…someone who's adventurous. Who likes sailing. Someone who won't be intimidated by you or your wealth. Someone loving and supportive but also strong. Confident in themselves."

It was almost as if he was describing Jackson. But how would Nate actually feel if I told him about Jackson? Would he be supportive? I wanted to think so, but I was scared to ask.

"Wait." Nate furrowed his brow. "So, if this isn't about Edward, then who…" His voice trailed off, and then he lifted his chin in understanding. "I see."

"No," I blurted. "You don't see anything."

"Mm. Is Jackson the reason you ended things with Edward?"

"No." My voice came out strangled, the word sounding more like a question.

"Oh shit." His eyes widened. "He is, isn't he? I totally called it."

"I—" I swallowed hard. "What? What are you talking about?"

"I could tell there was something between the two of you in Abu Dhabi."

"How?" I'd done my best to hide my reaction to Jackson, but I should've known Nate would see right through me. He always had.

I glanced back at the villa, confirming that Jackson was still inside. I considered denying it, but I knew Nate. And he knew me.

I glared at him. "Promise you won't say anything to the others."

"I won't…" He leaned back, crossing his leg at the knee. "But only if you answer my questions."

"Not fair!"

He chuckled, and I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him. "When did it start?"

I sighed. "It's a long story." Even if it was a relief to talk to someone about it.

"I've got time."

"I sincerely doubt that," I said, knowing that Nate was always short on time. Between his family and his production studio, his time was a rare commodity. That said, he'd always made time for me.

"Come on, Sloan. Tell me."

I hesitated a moment, debating. If I didn't talk to someone about this, I was going to explode. I'd been keeping this secret for years, and the past had finally caught up with me. I wanted—no, I needed—a second opinion. And I trusted Nate to be honest.

Before I knew it, I'd told him everything. How Jackson and I had met. How he'd broken my heart. How he wanted a second chance. Through it all, Nate listened patiently, only occasionally interrupting to ask a question.

"I had no idea, Sloan. I wish you'd told me sooner. I'm sorry you were in so much pain and dealing with all of that on your own."

I lifted a shoulder. At the time, Nate's career had been taking off. He'd left the family business to become an actor, and his life was insane.

"I had Gran," I said. "I told her about Jackson and me before she died."

"I'm glad, but you know I'm always here for you, right?"

I nodded. "I do."

"And I think you're smart to take it slow," he said. "To focus on getting to know each other again, as you are now. You've changed a lot in the past fourteen years. I'm sure he has too."

"Thanks, Nate." I chewed on my lip. "So, you don't think I'm crazy?"

"Love makes us all a little crazy."

That it does.

"And who am I to judge?" Nate grinned. "After all, I fell in love with my daughter's nanny."

"True." I nodded. "But seriously, how do you think everyone else would react?"

"Knox can't say anything, considering his situation. Jasper would probably be happy for you. And Graham, well, who knows."

"What about Greer?" I asked. "I've kept this secret from her all these years, and I'm terrified of losing her."

It almost seemed worse to tell her now, though the idea of telling Greer had never been easy. She'd always made it very clear to Jackson that her friends were off-limits.

Nate turned more contemplative. "You two have been friends for a long time. I'd like to think she'd support you. Hell—" He dragged a hand through his hair. "If Jude can get over the fact that his dad is marrying his ex-girlfriend, then you can only hope Greer will be as forgiving about her brother."

I took a deep breath, considering everything he'd said.

"Trust yourself," Nate said. "You've always had a strong inner compass. I know you'll make the best decision for you."

"Thanks, Nate."

"Anytime. Now, I better get going. I know Brooklyn wants to play her song for you, but Em's going to kill me if I make us late to dinner at her parents'," he said. "I'll send you a video of her song. Chat more soon?"

"Absolutely. Go." I waved him away.

"Love you."

"Love you too, Nate. Even if you are a pain in the ass."

"Takes one to know one," he joked.

I rolled my eyes and disconnected the call, feeling like more of an equal to Nate than ever. I took a few minutes to center myself, enjoying the view and the sound of the ocean. I called Jasper to check in briefly, wanting to run an idea by him before putting it to Graham. He was enthusiastic about it and encouraged me to tell Graham.

Finally, knowing I couldn't put off talking to Graham any longer, I took a deep breath and hit the button to contact him.

"Sloan."

"Teddy Grahams." I stood and walked along the patio, needing to stretch my legs. To move.

He sighed but ignored my nickname. "Someone's in a good mood."

"It's always good to get away from the office. You should try it sometime."

"Unlikely," he muttered. "Though I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

"Thank you," I said, touched by his sincerity.

"And I realize now that I may have been harsh the last time you were in LA. I'm sorry."

Wow. Okay. "Thanks for saying that. It means a lot."

He cleared his throat, and I knew that talking about feelings made him uncomfortable. So it wasn't surprising when he changed the subject. "What do you know about Edward's financial situation?"

I furrowed my brow. "Huh?"

"I finished my review of Halle Lovejoy. And I'm doing a financial deep dive on Edward."

I groaned. My assistant, seriously? He hadn't seen her face when I'd showed her one of the threats.

She'd been terrified for me. Outraged. Halle was one of the best people I knew. I trusted her implicitly. There was no way she was involved.

"Graham. We've talked about this. You can't go investigating someone just because you don't trust them."

"I was right not to trust Edward, and you shouldn't either. His family's company is not as successful as they portray. They've sunk a lot of money into the ducal estate as well."

"So…?" I asked. "I can understand why he might not want to go around broadcasting that fact. Wait." I paused. " Why are you investigating him?"

"I've been thinking. Edward's close to you. Has access to your place—opportunity. This money situation gives him a motive."

God, he sounded like Jackson. Maybe the two of them were more alike than I cared to admit.

"Okay, Sherlock. Let's not get carried away. It wasn't Edward. He wouldn't have asked me to marry him if he were behind the threats."

"He proposed?" Graham sounded genuinely surprised. Hell, I was surprised myself. I hadn't planned to tell him that. "Did you accept?"

" If I marry…" I said, trying not to smirk at his horrified tone. Graham so rarely showed emotion, it was nice to know that something had riled him up. "It will be for love."

"Sloan," he growled. "That's not an answer."

I considered dragging it out, torturing him a little longer. But ultimately, I said, "I don't love Edward. So, no. I'm not marrying him."

"So glad to see that you've finally come to your senses."

"Yes, yes. You all made it very clear how you felt about him."

"Maybe we were harsh—" Graham admitted reluctantly.

"Not maybe." I cut him off. "Definitely."

"But he wasn't the right guy for you."

"And if he were?" I asked. "What if I met the right guy for me? Would you be supportive then?"

"This conversation seems a bit premature."

Considering how I felt about Jackson, I wasn't sure that it was, actually. But I didn't mention that. For now, I wanted to get to know Jackson again on my terms. Without my brothers butting in.

"Unless…" He trailed off, and for a minute, I wondered if he suspected something between Jackson and me.

"Look," I sighed. We were getting off track. "I called because I wanted to run something by you."

I told Graham about the improvements Jackson had suggested, as well as my idea, and he seemed amenable. I was following my inner compass as Nate had suggested, and I trusted that I was headed in the right direction.