Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

T he jet engine hummed, providing sound to the otherwise silent flight. I glanced over at Sloan, her face screwed up in concentration as she stared at her laptop. The light from the screen illuminated her features—those plump lips and determined eyes. And I couldn't seem to tear my gaze away from her, despite telling myself numerous times that it was completely inappropriate.

She'd been working almost nonstop since we'd boarded our flight to Miami. Part of me wondered if it was an avoidance tactic. If Sloan had decided to ignore our past and pretend I was her executive protection agent and nothing more. Or if she really was just that busy.

Considering she was the senior vice president of operations for a global luxury hotel brand, it was likely she truly was that busy. Yet somehow, it still surprised me. I didn't know why. She'd always been diligent, driven, and determined. But in the past, she'd also known how to relax and have fun.

She'd been good at getting me to let go and have fun too.

I kept having to remind myself that she wasn't the same girl I'd once known. That what little I knew of Sloan's life for the past fourteen years had come from snippets my sister had mentioned in passing or things I'd read in Sloan's file. I didn't know her anymore, not really.

Seeing her now, she was so buttoned-up. So stiff and professional.

What had happened?

And was I somehow responsible for this change?

Don't flatter yourself. It had been years since we were together. I'd changed, and so had she.

I sighed and stared out the window, the clouds drifting past. Seeing her again, being so close to her again, had everything rushing back—the good, the bad, the…unexpected.

I was standing at the entrance to the VIP section of the club near closing time when a group descended. Rich. Young. Drunk.

One of them stopped, her head tilting in confusion. "Jackson?"

It took me a minute to place her. And when I did, I could scarcely believe my eyes.

"Sloan?" I asked, barely recognizing my little sister's best friend. Damn, she looked good. Short dress. Low neckline. Glossy pink lips.

The longer I looked at her, the more differences I cataloged. And it wasn't just the makeup. It was…everything.

"What are you doing here?"

"I, uh—" I tugged on my collar. Shit. Was it tight? Panic sliced through my veins, and I glanced around. No one was supposed to know I was here, least of all my sister's best friend. "Is Greer with you?"

She shook her head. "I'm here with some friends who are in town for the weekend."

"Come on, Sloan!" a girl called to her. I'd seen her earlier, her and her friends. She was some celebrity. A model or a socialite or something. And she knew Sloan? Nothing about this was adding up with the picture I had of Sloan.

She was my sister's roommate. Young. Broke. College student. Yet here she stood, looking like… that.

And I wasn't the only one who'd noticed. She turned heads everywhere she went.

Suddenly, the floor manager was at my side. "Is there a problem?"

"No." I swallowed. "No problem, sir."

"Good. Then get back to work," he barked then quickly disappeared.

Sloan's eyes went wide. "Work?" She leaned in and whispered, "Jackson, are you undercover or something?" But all I could think of was the smell of her—wild roses and sunshine. Amid the bright lights and the loud music, it centered me.

"Please don't say anything to Greer," I begged, careful to keep my voice low. "Please."

I'd hoped to have more time before confessing to Greer. In truth, I hoped I'd never have to tell my family I'd left the Navy until after I found a more permanent job. I knew how disappointed they'd be.

Disgrace. Failure. Liar. The words spun through my head on an endless loop.

"I won't for now." Sloan held my gaze. "As long as you promise to explain what's going on."

"You hungry?" I asked. "My shift's almost over."

"I…uh, sure. Let me just say goodbye to my friends."

I nodded, clocking out and then meeting her at the front. We went outside to hail a cab. When Sloan shivered, I removed my jacket and placed it over her shoulders. She smiled up at me, and it was like a punch to the gut. "Thanks."

I hailed a cab, giving them directions to a twenty-four-hour diner down the street from my place. We grabbed a table and ordered some food.

"How's school?" I asked, wanting to ease into this conversation.

"How's school?" she sputtered. "Um. I think we have a few more important things to discuss. Like why you're working at a club in New York while Greer still thinks you're deployed. Do you know how worried she's been about you?"

She didn't mince words, did she?

Before I could answer, the waitress delivered our food, and Sloan dug into her pancakes. I didn't have much of an appetite, so I pushed my food around my plate.

"I was discharged from the Navy."

"Are you okay?" She scanned my face. "Were you injured?"

I shook my head. That would've been almost preferable. At least then, I would've left with honor not in disgrace. "I got into a fight."

Sloan arched an eyebrow. "About what?"

"Doesn't matter." I shouldn't have let that asshole get in my head.

"Jackson," Sloan chided. "Clearly, it matters if it's the reason you were discharged from the Navy."

I sighed, sensing she wasn't going to drop it. I'd already told her more than I'd intended, and despite not knowing her very well, I trusted her.

Before I could stop myself, I said, "Long story short, while we were out one night, this asshole said something…derogatory to my buddy. And—" I curled my hands into fists beneath the table, remembering those hurtful, ignorant words. Remembering the way my friend had told me to let it go. To pretend it didn't matter. "—I punched him."

Sloan nodded, seemingly not surprised. "Sounds like he deserved it. You're a good friend."

It was so nice to have someone take my side. I hadn't expected that. I hadn't expected her to understand. But she had.

"The asshole filed assault charges, and the Navy was forced to discharge me." I leaned forward, lowering my voice. "I'm lucky I had such a good rapport with my chain of command. They gave me only a general discharge and the chance to earn an honorable discharge if I keep my nose clean."

She stayed close, and I realized that her eyes weren't just green. Gold flecks danced in them. They were captivating, and I found it difficult to look away.

"Is that what you're doing at the club? ‘Keeping your nose clean'?" She used air quotes.

"I'm trying to," I admitted. "And I needed a job."

"As a bouncer?" Her expression was incredulous.

"Look," I huffed, annoyed that she would look down on me for my job. Perhaps she was like those rich girls she'd been hanging out with. "You don't have to understand it, but it works for now."

"Jackson." She opened her mouth as if to speak then closed it. Opened it again. "I'm not judging you for your choices, but even I know that you don't belong there."

"Oh yeah?" I scoffed. "You know that? Because you know me ?"

She rested her forearms on the table. "I know enough about you to know that being a bouncer is a respectable job, but it's not the job for you."

"What would you have me do? Huh? Do you know how hard it's been to find work? My buddy pulled some strings for me to get this job." I hadn't meant to admit that. I hadn't meant to admit any of it.

"My…" She paused. Swallowed. "I know someone who works at a luxury hotel. Maybe they're looking to hire someone in their security department."

"Thanks." I sipped my drink, annoyed with myself more than anything. "But no thanks."

"If you change your mind," she said, "the offer stands."

"I appreciate it."

"What about Greer?" she asked. "When are you going to tell her?"

"I'm not."

She choked on her drink. "What?"

"You heard me." No way in hell was I telling my family. My dad was one of the most decorated SEALs of all time, and I was a disgrace. Worse than a disgrace, I was pathetic. I couldn't even control my temper.

The waitress brought the check, and Sloan and I both grabbed for it.

I narrowed my eyes at her, trying to claim it for myself. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I've got it." She tugged.

I growled and removed the check from her hand. " I've got it."

"Fine," she huffed. "But only if you let me buy next time." She smirked.

Sloan was different than I'd expected. More outspoken or something. Or maybe she was just tired. It was three in the morning.

"There will be no next time," I said. "After this, you're going to go home and pretend this whole conversation, this whole evening, never happened."

"So, you want me to lie to my best friend and your sister."

God, I hated hearing her say that. But yes, that was exactly what I was asking.

"I—" I dragged a hand over my head. "I want you to give me some time."

She seemed to consider it then said, "I know what it's like to want to hide something from your siblings."

I wondered what she meant by that because her tone certainly indicated something darker. My curiosity was piqued.

"And I know," she continued, "what it's like to be on the receiving end of a sibling's misguided attempt to ‘protect' you." She gave me a meaningful look. "So, I will give you time, but you need to tell Greer."

"I'll consider it." That was the best I could do for now.

She stood. "Thank you for the pancakes and the honesty."

I smiled, standing as well. "Thank you for listening."

"Anytime." She patted my shoulder, and for the first time in months, it felt as if a weight had been lifted.

"We'll be starting our descent into Miami shortly," the captain announced over the intercom.

I returned my attention to my laptop, reviewing Sloan's file once more. I scrutinized the threats for new clues, combing through her contacts in search of answers. I opened the file on her boyfriend—Edward Burton, heir to Burton Banking and future Duke of Torrington.

I rubbed at my chest, seeking to soothe the ache there. Knowing Sloan had moved on and seeing proof of it were two different things.

I wasn't sure she could've chosen anyone more different from me. His family had an official website. A crest. A ducal manor. Edward was wealthy. Titled. He easily fit into her world.

I studied the articles and pictures of Edward and Sloan at various events. They looked perfect together, and though it pained me to admit it, I was glad she'd found happiness. Even if it was with someone else.

I was right to let her go.

I stood and stretched, ready to be off this damn plane. It felt too small for the two of us—fucking claustrophobic.

"Can I get you anything, Jackson?" Tabitha asked when I exited the restroom near the galley. She worked for the Hartwell Agency—a bespoke recruitment service that placed nannies, jet crew, and other household staff with wealthy clients around the world. The Crawfords always requested her when they flew. I'd interacted with her a number of times, and she was always polite and discreet. She kept to herself.

"I'm good, thanks. How have you been?"

"Good." She smiled. "Busy."

"With flying or the farm?"

"Both. But mostly the farm."

I shoved my hands into my pockets. "I don't know how you find time for it all."

She lifted a shoulder. "You make time for what matters."

"Sage advice."

"What about you?" she asked. "You're no longer protecting the Crawfords?" She gave me a meaningful look, as if to say, "What's up with that?"

"Reassigned for the time being."

"I'm sure it was difficult to say goodbye. They're such a sweet family, especially Brooklyn."

I smiled. I adored that kid. "That they are. But alas," I sighed, teasing, "I go where I'm told."

She nodded, a grim set to her expression. "As do I."

I returned to my seat, feeling Sloan's eyes on me the entire time. When I looked at her, she quickly turned her attention to her laptop, and I wondered if I'd imagined it.

I took my seat and resumed my arrangements for the trip. Today, we were flying to Miami, where the boat was docked. While Sloan met with the staff of the Huxley Grand Miami, I'd use the rest of the day to finish preparations so we could cast off in the morning—assuming the weather stayed fair. Levi, a teammate from Hudson who was already stationed in Miami, would keep an eye on Sloan while we were apart.

I reviewed the schematics of the boat, as well as the safety specs. Every so often, I'd chance a glance at Sloan. She was absorbed in her task, and I wondered if this was what I could expect for the next two months—the silent treatment.

Though when we were on the boat, she wouldn't be able to avoid me or bury herself in work. We'd have to communicate and work together.

I checked the weather again. Wind was favorable. No expected storms, though there was a front we were going to have to keep our eye on.

Sloan finally closed her laptop and peered out the window as we began our descent. We might only be separated by the aisle of the private jet, but it felt more like an ocean. I wanted to address her, but I had to remind myself she was just like any other client. She had to be—for my sake anyway.

So instead, I focused on the view. Clear blue waters. A bright sunny day. I ached to be on the water just as much as I dreaded it.

It was still so strange to think that I'd be spending the next two months with Sloan. We'd barely spoken two words to each other the entire flight. Years ago, we would've filled the time with conversation. With touch.

Years ago, I'd been her everything. Now, I was just the bodyguard.

But seeing her again made me yearn for what we'd once shared. Yearn for easy conversation and the peace that came from being completely yourself with someone, and knowing that they loved and accepted all of you.

And yet…she'd lied to me.

She'd omitted crucial information about herself. About her family. It had made me question what else she'd lied about.

But I was a professional, and I would protect Sloan, regardless of our past. Or perhaps all the better because of it.

After we landed at the private airstrip, my counterpart from Hudson was waiting on the tarmac with a black Escalade. Levi was a younger guy, newer. Eager. He'd been here a week, preparing for our arrival.

I scanned the area from behind my sunglasses. It was warm and fucking humid, the breeze doing little to dispel the moisture that clung to my skin. My shirt was sticking to me, but I knew a shower wouldn't make a damn bit of difference.

Meanwhile, Sloan looked immaculate. Put together and composed. Not a hair out of place.

Levi opened the door to the Escalade for Sloan, and she climbed in the back seat with a thanks.

"Hey." We shook hands. "Thanks for doing the prep work and keeping an eye on the boat."

"No problem." He glanced toward the car. "You sure you don't want to swap assignments?" He gave a meaningful lift of his brow while the airport crew loaded the luggage into the back.

I clenched my teeth, annoyed by his implication. "No. I do not." She was the fucking principal. He had no business ogling her. "Now, let's get going."

He lowered his sunglasses, a sour expression on his face. "Jeez. Lighten up a little. It was a joke."

I crowded him, hardening my jaw. "I don't joke when it comes to the principal. Not about their safety or their person. You got it?"

He gulped. "Got it."

"Good. Now show me that Hudson didn't make a mistake in hiring you."

"Yes, sir." His entire demeanor changed. He climbed into the driver's seat, and I joined him in the front, grateful Sloan already had the privacy screen raised. I planned to use the time to review a few things with Levi. But more than that, I needed some fucking space.

Being with Sloan, inhaling her scent, it was fucking with my head.

And as we drove across town, I realized that maybe I'd been short with Levi. But if he couldn't handle it, he didn't deserve to be here.

Levi pulled into the VIP entrance of the Huxley Grand Miami. As soon as Sloan exited the car, the staff fawned over her. Nate and his family had always been treated with respect at the Huxley properties, but Sloan was treated like royalty. She was their queen.

Not that it surprised me. She'd always had a way with people. A kindness. A charisma that was different even from Nate's magnetism. When Sloan was with you, she made you feel as if you were the only person who mattered.

But seeing her in a professional setting was enlightening. Hell, if anything, it made me respect her even more. You could tell a lot about a person from the way they treated their employees. And Sloan treated everyone with kindness and respect, both cleaning staff and manager alike.

As difficult as it was to tear my eyes away from Sloan, I forced my attention to Levi. "You good here?"

"I've got it covered, Blackjack." He tossed me the keys to the Escalade. After our conversation on the ride over, I had more confidence in his ability to protect Sloan. At least for a short time. When assisted by hotel security.

"I'm going to do a sweep of the suite and then head to the marina. I should be back by eighteen hundred, but contact me if anything comes up. And I do mean anything. "

He scanned the entrances and exits, monitoring everyone who came in or left. "I already checked the suite, but staff would've delivered the luggage, so that's a good idea."

I could remember being young and cocky like him. He had some growing to do, but he had potential too.

I went up to the penthouse, conducting a thorough sweep of the suite before I was finally satisfied. Then I drove to the marina, eager to see the boat in person. I parked and went through the gate. The lack of security measures was disappointing, though not entirely surprising. At least Levi had been keeping an eye on things, providing an escort for the staff who'd stocked the boat with food and other supplies in preparation for our trip.

The marina was a hub of activity as charters returned from an adventure or prepared for a sunset cruise. I quickly found Sloan's boat, a gorgeous sailboat named Athena . I'd wondered at the name before, and seeing it now, I was even more curious. Athena was the Greek goddess of wisdom and war.

I didn't remember Sloan being a huge fan of Greek mythology. At least, not enough to name her boat for it. And yet, this boat was named Athena. Interesting.

I did an external survey of the boat, checking safety supplies and the integrity of the hull and sails. Once I was satisfied, I headed below deck. Everything had already been cleared by a local boat mechanic. Before that, it had been sailed here by a crew from the Hartwell Agency. Their crew certified that the vessel was in perfect condition, so that gave me some peace of mind.

The boat was nice. More than nice, actually. It wasn't brand-new, but it wasn't that old either. I could definitely think of worse places to spend the next two months, even if I struggled to imagine being so close to Sloan after all this time.

The main living space was high enough that I didn't have to hunch my six-foot-two frame. Most of it was clad in warm wood tones or creams, and there were multiple places to sit. The kitchen was small but well-appointed. And the storage was ample and cleverly done—allowing access from multiple points.

I double-checked that the satellite phone was where it belonged, the red lights to preserve night vision were working, as was the radar system. We had a set of paper charts, personal locator beacons, first aid kit.

The main cabin, where Sloan would sleep, was cozy. The bed was covered in pale blues and fluffy whites. I had a brief vision of her lying on the bed, her hair splayed over the pillow as I peeled a swimsuit from her body.

I groaned and headed for the guest room. That was never going to happen.

The guest quarters were smaller than the main, with part of the roof sloping low over the foot of the bed. It was a good thing I wasn't claustrophobic because the size of the room was more suited to someone Brooklyn's height.

I smiled, wondering what Brooklyn and the rest of the Crawford family were up to. She'd insisted on throwing me a going-away party, and I loved her for it. After protecting them for a year and being so intimately involved in their lives, I missed them. I missed hearing about Brooklyn's day as she chatted with Emerson in the back seat on the way home from school. And it was strange not knowing what they were doing and if they were okay.

Yes, they were my clients. But over the past year, they'd become more like family. Especially since the addition of Emerson.

I knew they were in good hands. I wouldn't have recommended my replacement if she weren't up to the task. And my reluctance to say goodbye was probably an indication that it was past time to move on. I'd become too attached.

My phone rang, Vaughn's name flashing on the screen.

"Hey, Vaughn. What's up?"

"Just checking in before you head out. Everything look good?"

"Yep." I glanced around the boat once more. "Supplies are on board. Levi delivered the package from Hudson, so thanks."

"Good." He hesitated, which was unlike him. "Look, uh, I'm sure this goes without saying, but these circumstances are unique."

I frowned. Vaughn didn't typically flounder about with words.

"The principal's safety is of the utmost importance," he continued.

"I know." Where was he going with this?

"You're going to be sharing a small space for an extended period of time."

I glanced around the cabin. No shit.

"The Crawford and Mackenzie families are important to Hudson. And while the principal's safety is always the top priority, we want to keep our valuable clients satisfied."

Um…excuse me. What?

"What I'm trying to say is that you can be abrasive. Commanding."

"Wow. Thanks," I scoffed.

"It's not a bad thing, but…at least try to give the principal the illusion that she's in control."

I barked out a laugh. "Anything else?"

"Be safe out there. Check in as agreed, and we shouldn't have any problems. Right?"

"Right," I said. If only it were that simple.

I had a sinking feeling that of all the challenges I'd faced as a bodyguard, none would compare to this trip. To spending two months at sea with a woman I'd always desired and never been able to resist.