“No. Not we. I need to leave to get condoms.” I stepped back and around the captain’s chair, hunting for my clothes. “You’re staying here.” As much as was possible while wildly aroused, I’d already thought through the plan. “We can’t be seen together somewhere buying condoms. I’ll go and come right back.”
I felt her gaze on my bare back a moment before her hands settled on my bottom. “Jackson James, you have a very bite-able ass.”
I chuckled, but fire filled my lungs. I need to hurry. “You can bite it all you want when I get back.”
Her movements felt reluctant as she released me, and I heard her sigh. “I will miss you.”
“I’ll miss you t—”
“I was talking to your butt.”
Laughing, I turned around and pulled up my shorts, inspecting her. “Is this how it’s going to be now? You’re going to be like everyone else and start missing my body more than me?” I’d meant it to be a joke, but she—and I—heard the edge of truth in them before I realized what I’d said and how it sounded.
She stared at me, her features growing sober. But not shocked.
“God, Rae. I’m sorry. I was—sorry.” I glanced heavenward, trying to think of a way to put us back on the playful path, because that had been a monumentally stupid thing to stay after she’d just given me—
“Never.” Rae stepped right in front of me, grabbed my face, and forced my eyes back to hers. “Do you hear me? Never. You are magnificent, Jackson. In every single way.”
Blinking against an odd rush of something stinging my eyes, I needed her to let me go so I could leave, and we could forget my misstep.
But she wasn’t finished. “Yes, your body is beautiful. But it is nothing—and I mean nothing—compared to this.” Rae threaded her fingers into my hair at my temples. “Your brain is beautiful. Your honor is beautiful. Your dedication and hard work is beautiful. And this—” Her hands lowered to the left side of my chest.
I found I couldn’t swallow as I waited for her words, nor could I breathe.
Her touch gentle, her gaze imploring, she whispered, “This heart is stunning. It’s my absolutely, without a doubt, favorite part of you. And when you’re gone, when we’re not together, this is the part of you I will always miss most.”
Chapter 22
*Raquel*
“I’m a modern woman in the sense of I take care of myself, I’m fiercely independent, and I’m really ambitious. Yet I have these old-school thoughts in my mind.”
Eva Mendes
When Jackson said he would leave me on the boat and head over to the store, I thought he meant we would return to his friend’s house and he would head out from there. That is not what happened.
One minute, I was telling him how special he was to me, and we were kissing, and touching, and hugging. And in the next, he’d climbed down into the water.
“I thought you said we couldn’t swim in this lake?” I whisper-shouted after him, squatting low at the side of the boat.
He flipped his hair back, wiping his eyes. “No, I said it’s not a good idea when it’s this hot. There could be an algae bloom. Or snakes.”
SNAKES? “SNAKES?!”
He laughed. “Nah. There might be snakes, but they keep clear of swimmers.”
“Jackson! Get out of there!” I whisper-shrieked, reaching my hand over the side, knowing my voice would carry across the mostly calm surface if I raised it any louder.
Treading water, Jackson began to drift further from the boat. “I haven’t seen any algae this summer, and I’m in a hurry. Without Dave or Miguel keeping an eye out at Bitty’s, this is the safest place for you while I’m gone. I’ll be back in a jiff.” He turned toward the house where we’d launched.
“Wait! You’re swimming over there? Why don’t you just drive over in the boat, and then I’ll drive back here, and—”
Jackson twisted around. “I don’t want anyone seeing you driving this boat out here without me, knowing you’re alone. I’ll take Bitty’s Rambler, leave my truck, and be back soon. If you have time, fold the boxes up in the cabin. Or I’ll help you when I get back.”
“Fold the . . .? You mean all those boxes covering the bed are empty?”
Grinning, he winked. It was as adorable as it was sexy as it was infuriating. Then he left, swimming in the lake I’d been told we weren’t supposed to go swimming in.
I stared after Jackson, unable to believe what had just happened. And I was left astounded by how fast and strong a swimmer he was. He’d probably make it back to the launch faster by swimming than if we’d used the boat at no-wake speed. I watched his figure disappear into a thicket of trees, camouflaged to anyone looking in that direction.
Clutching my forehead, I glanced down at myself. The girls appeared to be just as confused as me. One minute we’re all over each other and they’re having the time of their lives, the next he’s gone, swimming away at top speed, and leaving all of us wishing he were still here. I need to find my bikini top.
Locating the top didn’t take long. I opted to peel off the halter in the privacy afforded by the awnings before securing the triangles in place and retying everything. Taking the short stairway down, I ducked as I entered the cabin and glanced around, frowning at the pile of cardboard boxes. Poking one, it tumbled over and fell at my feet.
That sneak.
He’d covered the bed, and I could guess why, especially now that I knew and understood him better. Charlotte’s guess had been correct, the empty boxes on the bed were a chastity belt. For him. Or me. Or both of us. Whatever. He’d been trying to be honorable, follow the rules he thought we’d both agreed to back at the picnic.
Picking up the first box, I untucked the flaps holding it together and flattened it. I then made quick work of the entire pile. There weren’t many, just enough to cover the surface of the tarp and make it appear as though we couldn’t access the bed. The boxes broken down, I turned and opened a drawer in the kitchen to look for string, or tape, or something to bundle the cardboard.
I had much to do. The tarp needed to go, and sheets and pillows needed to be located for our love nest.
At least a half hour later, and feeling like a hot and sweaty mess, I surveyed my progress and eyed the AC unit. Jackson had told me on one of our previous excursions how he’d found the boat, that he’d been lucky to get it for a good price at an auction.
But it was Charlotte who’d provided the real story.
“It was a mess. I mean, it looked like a heap of garbage when he first got it. Holes everywhere, the cabin destroyed, the decking ripped up, no motors, no upholstery, no chairs, no nothing. The only thing that the weirdo previous owner had left alone was the controls—you know, the computer and navigation panel.” Her face a grimace, Charlotte had taken a deep, gulping pull from her beer before continuing. “I told Jackson he should’ve just built a boat from scratch instead. But no, he was determined. That’s Jackson.”
That’s Jackson.
I caught myself smiling at the beautiful interior cabin, admiring the careful craftsmanship, blood, sweat, and tears that had likely gone into Jackson’s boat.