Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

I crossed my arms over my chest. Gratified by the way Jackson's attention darted to my breasts, his gaze lingering and heavy like a caress. The muscles of his chest rippled, along with his tattoos. God, he was glorious.

And then I saw it. The outline of his cock against his athletic shorts—thick and heavy and hard. Oh my…

I swallowed, my eyes darting back to his. My breath hitched when I looked into his blue eyes, which was perhaps even more dangerous. No one had ever looked at me the way Jackson did—as if I were the air he breathed and he'd die without me.

I'd forgotten what that felt like. How…all-consuming even just one look from him could be.

I took a step backward, my hip connecting with the galley counter. I gripped the edge to brace myself. It was late. This was reckless. We had a long day of sailing ahead, and we'd both need our rest for tomorrow.

I forced myself to turn away from him and head to my cabin. "Good night, Jackson."

He said nothing, but I could feel the tension in the air. It practically vibrated with desire and longing.

I closed the door to my cabin and immediately flipped the lock. I wasn't sure whether it was more to keep Jackson out or me in, though I knew he'd never enter without being invited. Somehow, even after all this time, even after the lies we'd told and the pain he'd caused, I found that I trusted him.

I willed my body to calm down. Cool down.

I wasn't aroused. I was…riding the adrenaline high from thinking there was an intruder. If I was aroused, and that was a big if , it was due to muscle memory, nothing more. The tightening of my nipples and heating of my core had nothing to do with Jackson.

Sure, he was handsome, objectively speaking. Rugged and strong, his muscles honed from years of service, first as a Navy SEAL and now as an executive protection agent.

But I'd just broken things off with Edward. And even if it had been a long time coming, I wasn't ready to jump into bed with someone else, let alone with an ex—tempting as it might be.

I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breathing with my back to the door. But Jackson immediately came to mind, and my fingers curled of their own accord.

His chest and arms were covered in tattoos, more than ever before. I could remember lying on his chest and asking about all of them. I'd wanted to hear the story behind each as I traced them with my fingers. My tongue. I still wanted…

No. I punched down a pillow as I climbed into bed. It didn't matter what I thought I wanted; what I needed was sleep. I was overtired. I hadn't slept well the past few nights, and I wasn't thinking clearly. But my body didn't listen to reason. It never had when it came to him.

I woke to the gentle rocking of the boat and the scent of something delicious floating to me from the kitchen. A glance at my watch told me it was almost six in the morning. I logged on to my computer and checked my emails, quickly responding to the few that Halle had sent. I was finishing up an email to Jasper, and I could hear the rumble of Jackson's morning voice as he spoke with someone. A woman. I frowned.

I pulled on some clothes then headed to the bathroom to wash my face. As I dried my cheeks, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked tired. And the lines at the corners of my eyes didn't help.

I wondered what Jackson thought when he saw me. Did he still find me attractive? I applied sunscreen then lip gloss, fluffing my hair. I stilled my hands and huffed, annoyed with myself for caring what he thought about me or how I looked. I yanked my hair into a braid and headed out.

I found Jackson on deck, chatting with a woman in a bikini top and cutoff shorts.

"Morning, hayati ." He smiled, pulling me to him and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

Hayati. I hadn't heard that word in years. And only ever from Jackson.

I stilled, wondering if I'd somehow bumped my head last night. I placed a hand over my stomach as if to make the butterflies there stop. Please make it stop.

"Cheri, this is Sloan. Sloan, Cheri." Jackson made the introductions. "Cheri and her friends are headed down to Turks too."

The sailing community was a welcoming one, and it was always nice to connect with fellow travelers. We talked about the weather—a source of endless conversation for sailors. And the places we'd been.

"Morning," I said, my insides still fluttering from the sound of the word hayati on his lips.

Years ago, after much persuasion, Jackson had finally relented and agreed to tell me the meaning. Hayati meant "my life," the term stemming from the Arabic word for life. Hayati was a common term of endearment in the Arabic world, and I'd always assumed he'd learned it on one of his missions, despite his unwillingness to confirm my theory. But as he'd once explained, using hayati expressed that his love for me was so strong, his life would be nothing without it.

I tried to study Jackson's expression for clues. Had he purposely called me hayati , or was it a slip? My brain was in knots—the weight of his arm both distracting and familiar.

Cheri shielded her eyes from the sun, and I turned my attention to her. "We leave in a few days. And we're on the Knotty Buoy if you need anything."

I laughed. "Thanks. Love the name. And feel free to radio us."

We said our goodbyes, and then she headed back to her boat.

"Sleep well?" Jackson asked, releasing me.

"Well enough," I murmured, still thrown by that forehead kiss.

"Winds look good. Averaging about fifteen knots from the southeast."

"Um…what was that about?" I asked, hooking my thumb over my shoulder to indicate where Cheri had gone.

"What?" Jackson's face was neutral.

"The side hug. The forehead kiss." Why was he acting like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred?

"I should've mentioned it sooner. When we go ashore or meet other sailors, it's probably best to act like we're a couple, at least when we're not staying at a Huxley Grand."

"Is it?" I didn't know what to make of that.

"From a security standpoint, yes. And it's a good cover story."

"Okay." I didn't disagree. "And what exactly would pretending to be a couple entail?"

He lifted a shoulder. "Like what we just did. It doesn't have to be complicated."

Not complicated. Right.

"When do you want to head out?" he asked, sidestepping any further objections. "I left pancakes in the microwave if you're hungry."

My eyes widened, my questions forgotten. "The banana ones?" He'd always made them for me when I'd spent the night, but I hadn't eaten them in years.

He nodded, his expression sheepish.

"Thanks." I was touched and trying not to let myself read too much into it. He'd made pancakes. So what? Jackson had volunteered to do most of the cooking after all. Still…they were Jackson's banana pancakes. "I'm going to make some coffee. Want some?"

"That would be great."

"Great," I added, then kicked myself. Why did this have to be so awkward?

I headed down to the galley, preparing the coffee before going back on deck with the pancakes and coffee. Jackson took a mug from me with a thanks. I'd considered eating below deck, but the weather was too gorgeous to stay inside, even if I wanted to hide from Jackson and all the tension that filled the air between us.

I cut into one of the pancakes, the smell of lazy mornings filtering through my mind.

"Mm." I pressed myself to Jackson's back. "What are you doing? Come back to bed."

Between my class schedule, his work schedule, and the fact that we were sneaking around, it was rare that we got to spend a morning in bed together.

"Making you breakfast." I peered over his shoulder to find him mashing a banana with a fork. He turned his head, giving me a kiss.

"Looks more like baby food," I teased.

He smirked and turned his attention back to the bowl. "You'll see."

I gently raked my nails down his bare back, admiring his muscles and tattoos. He shivered. God…he was so hot.

"Sloan," he growled.

"What?" I asked in an innocent tone.

He glared at me. "You know what."

I slid my hands up his back then down again with my nails. "Do you want me to stop?" I wrapped my arms around him.

"You know I don't." He had a smile in his voice as he placed one of his hands over mine.

"You okay?" Jackson asked, bringing me back to the present.

While I'd been stuck in the past, he'd been preparing the boat to cast off. "Yeah." I shoved the last bite of pancake into my mouth. "Yep."

It wasn't too late to back out now. Cancel the rest of the sailing trip. Go home.

But being on the water yesterday had been so lovely. And today promised to be just as nice.

I sighed and glanced down at the friendship bracelets Brooklyn had made me. I fingered the beads, reading the text on each of them.

Smooth Sailing.

Captain Sloan.

Unstoppable.

Fuck it. This was my ship, and I was done walking on eggshells.

I glanced over at Jackson and found him watching me. "What?"

He turned his attention to the bow, where a cargo ship was far off on the horizon. "Nothing."

"It's not nothing. I…" I knew I just needed to get it over with. Just say it. "This is weird, right?"

"Is it?" He tilted his head, biting his lips as if to quell his amusement.

He wasn't going to make this easy on me, was he?

"Oh, come on, Jackson. You know it is. This trip. Us." I gestured between us. "We haven't seen each other in years, and now we're trapped on a boat together. Pretending to be a couple."

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It is a little strange."

I scoffed. "A little?"

"Okay. A lot," he admitted, and I finally felt a little better. "Though it's not the first time we've had to deal with weird and awkward situations."

"True."

"Remember that time Greer came home early from Logan's and almost caught us?"

I laughed even though it hadn't been funny. But it was sort of comical because of how ridiculous the situation had been.

The front door to my apartment opened then shut, and I jolted. "Jackson," I hissed, realizing that Greer had come home earlier than expected. "Get dressed."

Jackson had come over late after his shift at the club ended since Greer was at Logan's. He still hadn't told her about being discharged from the SEALs. And we definitely hadn't told her about us.

"Hmm." He nuzzled into my neck, his body wrapped around mine.

"Jackson." I elbowed him. "Get up. Greer's home."

"Shit." He jumped out of bed and grabbed his jeans, putting them on without his boxers.

I launched myself out of bed, throwing on the first thing I could find. "What are we going to do?"

"Sloan!" Greer called from the living room. "I'm home. Let's go to brunch and get drunk on dollar mimosas."

"I—" I called, gesturing at Jackson to hurry the hell up. "Be right there." I hopped on one foot, pulling on my running tights.

"Maybe we should just tell her," I whispered.

"I can't." He shook his head. "Not after…" He sighed. "I promised."

"You also promised her you wouldn't sleep with me," I hissed.

"You think she'd forgive us, but are you really willing to take that chance?"

I couldn't do that to Greer. She'd already been through so much. She'd lost her dad, and I knew how much Jackson meant to her. How much she meant to me.

"Fine," I sighed, knowing he was right. Besides, emerging from my room together, smelling of sex, was definitely not the way to break the news.

Jackson glanced at the window as if searching for an escape. I grabbed his arm and whispered, "You're not scaling four stories."

He eyed the drop before shrugging. "I could."

"Just…" I glanced around as if hoping the answer would come to me. It had to. "Let me go first."

"Sloan?" Greer called, her voice getting closer. "Are you okay?"

"Do you trust me?" he asked as I peered up at him.

"Always."

"Tell her you have a surprise." He gave me a quick peck.

I gestured for him to hide out of sight when I opened the door, and just as I was about to open it, he grabbed his boxers from the foot of the bed. My heart was pounding, and I had no idea what he was going to do.

I opened the door in a rush, stepping out into the living room before closing it behind me. "Hey."

"Hey!" Greer frowned. "Were you…working out?" She assessed my outfit.

"I, um—" I glanced down at my clothes. "Actually, I have a surprise for you."

She tilted her head, the corner of her mouth tipping up. "What kind of surprise?"

God, it was tempting to tell her the truth and be done with it. I hated keeping this secret from her. I hated having to hide what Jackson meant to me, even if I was terrified of how it would impact our relationship.

"Close your eyes."

She scrunched up her face. "Okay." And then did as she was told. "But it's not even my birthday."

I opened the door to my room and motioned for Jackson to come out. He crept toward the front door, and I was impressed by his stealth. Even so, my stomach felt as if it might launch itself out of my mouth at any moment.

He went over to the front door. Opened and closed it, all while remaining on the inside of the apartment.

"Open," I said, counting on the fact that Greer would be too happy to see her brother to question his sudden appearance or the reasons for it.

Her eyes fluttered open, and the moment she saw Jackson, she smiled. "Oh my god. Jackson?"

"Surprise!" I hoped I sounded excited and not nervous.

She launched herself at him, and his answering smile was brilliant. "Hey, sis."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, stepping back. "Is everything okay?"

He glanced at me over her shoulder, and I nodded, encouraging him to tell her the truth. At least about his job, if not about us.

"That was…" I shook my head. "God, that was stressful."

I still hated myself for lying to my best friend. But Jackson and I had kept our promise—we hadn't let our relationship, or lack of it, affect our relationships with Greer. Not then and not since.

"And that time on the boat…" he started to say, and then we were both laughing.

My cheeks reddened. "That was… It could've been really bad."

"I wouldn't let anything happen to you then—or now." His expression seemed too heavy for the moment we'd just shared. Like it was weighted with some unspoken meaning.

"Jackson…"

"That's why you hired me, right?"

Silly me. For a minute, I'd thought that maybe he still cared about me, but I was just another job to him.

"That's why my family hired you," I corrected.

"Sloan," he chided. "Don't lie to me."

I gritted my teeth, annoyed by his thinly veiled dig at our past. "I'm not lying."

"Maybe not about your reasons for finally relenting. But come on. Anyone would be scared by the threats. Hell, you attacked me last night."

I decided to let his comment about lying slide. He was just as guilty of keeping secrets as I was, but if we were going to survive this trip, avoiding any mention of the past seemed like the best policy.

"Attacked you?" I scoffed, determined to keep us rooted in the present.

He'd quickly restrained me, ending any illusions I'd had about being able to protect myself, despite self-defense training.

"And excuse you," I said, my skin prickling. "The door to your room was closed. I was justified in thinking you were an intruder."

"If there was a real intruder—" he stepped closer "—don't you think I'd be there to protect you in a heartbeat?"

"I, uh…" I glanced out at the water. I didn't know what to think.

"Sloan," he growled.

"What?" I mumbled.

"Look at me." By now, he was standing directly in front of me, our toes practically touching.

I swallowed and looked into his eyes. Big mistake.

"I will protect you," he said with a solemn expression. "Always." He waited a beat and then added, "You believe me, right?"

Once upon a time, I couldn't imagine a life without him. Now, after years apart, he was asking me to trust him again. And yet, he'd always been my safe place. My protector.

Regardless of everything that had happened between us, I trusted Jackson to keep me safe. And not just because it was his job.

I nodded.

"Good. Now, I want to talk about the threats. You still didn't answer my question about them."

"I answered your questions yesterday."

He narrowed his eyes at me. That wasn't what he'd meant, and I knew it. And he knew that I knew it.

"I'm—" I stared out over the water, letting it calm me. "Yeah. I find them unsettling."

"Unsettling." He leveled me with a look.

I did not want to get into it. Not now. Not when we were far away from London, and I was in my happy place.

But it was more than that. I hated feeling so…helpless. So vulnerable.

And now, I had to rely on Jackson. Something I'd sworn would never happen again. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I needed Jackson. I needed his protection.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked. "I told you everything I know. Surely between Graham's…" I trailed off, stopping myself before I mentioned his hacking. "And the team at Hudson, we'll figure out who's behind them."

"Graham's…what?" He furrowed his brow. "What does your brother have to do with it?"

"Oh, um…" Shit. I glanced away, searching for an answer. "You know, because he's the head of the company." And no one could ever know about his hacking skills.

"Mm." He narrowed his eyes at me, his skepticism clear.

"I just…" I sagged. "I'm exhausted. I've been on edge ever since the threats started. And now that we're out on the water, I feel like I can finally relax."

I didn't want to be scared. I wanted to feel free. And sailing helped. So did Jackson's solid presence, even if I didn't want to admit it.

"Okay," he said. "I'm sorry I brought it up."

I knew he was just doing his job, but I wanted to forget all about the threats.

I stood, clearing my plate and heading for the galley. "Thank you for the pancakes."

"Thank you for the honesty," he said, his words an echo of the past. Of a night long ago. I smiled despite myself.

When I returned to the deck, Jackson was quiet. Contemplative. We readied the boat to leave, and I fired up the motor.

The rest of the morning passed pleasantly enough, like it had the day before. Jackson and I were immersed in our individual tasks, neither of us talking unless it was necessary. Being on the water was peaceful.

I was sitting at the helm, watching a pair of birds swoop and dive into the water. Jackson placed his hand on my shoulder, startling me. "Hey. You ready for lunch?"

I turned to glance up at him. The sun glinted off his hair, and my eyes lingered on his lips. Full. Inviting.

I could practically taste the salt on his lips. Remember the feel of them gliding against my own.

I shook my head as if to clear it. The sun must be getting to me. That was the only rational explanation.

"Sounds good."

It wasn't long before he brought me a sandwich and an apple. "Nothing too fancy."

"I don't need anything fancy." I surveyed the plate. "And this looks great."

The boat was on autopilot, and we were making good time. The wind was fair, and the waves weren't so large.

"Based on your quick reactions last night," Jackson said while I crunched the apple between my teeth, "I assume you still train?"

"With someone in London. Former SAS."

Jackson had been the first to insist I train in self-defense, and he'd spent hours teaching me various techniques, making me practice until I was sweaty and exhausted. Until he felt confident the movements had become muscle memory.

Where my brothers would've tried to surround me in bubble wrap, Jackson had given me the tools to take care of myself.

"Good." He gave my shoulder a squeeze, but the feel of his touch lingered. "We should practice when we're back on dry land."

I hesitated. I could use the practice, especially with such an experienced opponent. But still, the idea of getting so physical with Jackson, of being so close to him… "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?" he taunted. "Because you know I'll best you?"

"Psh." I glanced away, hating the fact that he still had such an effect on me. "Don't be cocky, Jackson. I have moves you've never seen."

"Oh." He lifted his chin. "Who's being cocky now?" He took my plate to the galley and returned not long after. "Maybe when we get to Turks and Caicos. Or Puerto Rico."

I stilled at the reminder of Puerto Rico and Greer's impending visit. A visit I'd neglected to tell Jackson about.

"Actually—" I cleared my throat. "I'd like to tweak our itinerary slightly."

"What are you thinking?" he asked, pulling in the main sheet and allowing it to catch the wind once more before winching it tight.

He didn't sound annoyed. Merely curious.

"I think we should spend a few more days in Puerto Rico and shorten our time in the Dominican Republic, only stopping for fuel and food."

"Okay. Any particular reason?"

"Greer's planning to meet us in Puerto Rico?"

"She—" He choked, his eyes flashing to mine. "What? Greer? As in my sister Greer?"

"I know. I was just as surprised when she suggested it."

He furrowed his brow. "This isn't good."

"Yeah. I know."

"No. Not because of us. I'm worried about her."

"So am I," I said, hating the way my body reacted to Jackson referring to an "us." As if there was an "us." I wanted to laugh at the idea. That was past tense.

"Also…" He glanced over at me and smirked. "I know what the two of you are like when you get together."

I rolled my eyes and gave him a playful shove. "We all make stupid decisions when we're young. I'm not the same person I was back then."

"Neither am I." His eyes were filled with an emotion that looked a lot like, well, regret.

Regret about the past? About us?

I turned away and focused on the water, checking our location. It didn't matter. That ship had sailed long ago.