by Tara Sivec
Declan winces and at least has the nerve to look properly chastised and a little bit ashamed. Or maybe he’s just shocked by my outburst. Either way, when he opens his mouth, I quickly cut him off, holding up my hand to silence him before I turn around and slam the lid to my laptop closed. I scoop it up in my arms and turn back to face him, stalking across the room and right past him, his mouth still opening and closing like he’s trying to come up with something to say.
“Save it,” I mutter when I hear him whisper my name. “One orgasm isn’t worth having to listen to whatever bullshit is about to come out of your mouth.”
He doesn’t try to say anything after that and lets me walk out of the main salon with my head held high, even though I want to curl up in a ball and cry.
By the time I make it to my room and slam the door closed behind me, I flop down on my bed and open up my laptop to see I finally have a signal. I quickly open up my email and scroll through all the ones I’ve missed in the last few days until I get to the most recent one.
Opening it up, I quickly scan through the document and my heart drops to my toes. I wanted to be right so badly. I wanted to have proof in my hands that I could take to my father, and here it is, in black and white. I have the proof I needed, but nothing about this makes me feel good. Knowing what I have to do and what I have to say to my father makes a knot form in my stomach I feel will never go away. The pain in my stomach grows tenfold when I can’t stop picturing the look on Declan’s face a little bit ago or the way he spoke to me.
Shoving the laptop across the bed, I scoot up to the pillows, lie down on my side and hug my knees to my chest, wanting nothing more than to forget about what I just saw. It’s all too much right now and I can’t take it anymore. Six months has led up to this moment right here. Six months of barely eating, barely sleeping, working all hours of the night, and not having a life have finally come to a head. I’m about to ruin my father’s life, and yet I can’t stop thinking about Declan McGillis, and why it hurts so much that he can’t see past my family’s money to the person I really am.
It’s bad enough I’ve let my stepmother and stepsister treat me like shit, and I’ve let my father ignore me and his mounting problems. It’s down right pathetic I let a guy I’ve only known for a few days make me feel worse.
CHAPTER 11
Declan
I hear a low whistle from behind me and look away from the door Mackenzie just exited to find Brooke standing in the open, sliding doorway that leads out to the sundeck. As if it wasn’t bad enough I made the mistake of crossing the line with a guest, something I’ve never done in my career, I also had a witness to my asshole behavior when I tried to fix things in the most fucked up way imaginable.
I got caught up in the moment with Mackenzie, thinking I could take what I’d been craving since I first laid eyes on her and then move on and do my job, but that was impossible. I couldn’t stop thinking about her; I couldn’t stop wanting her and wanting more and it fucked with my head. I woke up yesterday morning with my thoughts a jumbled mess, wondering what she was thinking, what she was doing, where she was on the ship, and if she was replaying everything that had happened the night before and hungering for more just like I was. For the first time in four years, I got my ass chewed out by the captain. I screwed up the hand signals helping him lift anchor, I forgot to clean the windows for him in the wheelhouse, and neglected a whole other laundry list of duties I’ve always stayed on top of. All because I couldn’t stop thinking about the sound of Mackenzie saying my name when she came.
“You’re a dick,” she says, stating the obvious.
“I’m sorry. That was completely unprofessional of me.”
Brooke laughs softly, but there’s no trace of humor on her face as she shakes her head at me.
“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to, and I don’t give a rat’s ass about you being unprofessional. I’m not gonna go tattling on you to the captain.”
I let out a small sigh of relief, even though I know that’s not what I should be the most concerned with right now. Instead of talking to Mackenzie like a man, I took the pussy way out by treating her like shit to push her away. Avoiding her after the captain verbally kicked my ass worked for a little while. I was able to get back to work and stop hearing the echoes of her moans in my head or still feel how tightly her body gripped around my fingers, but as soon as I walked into this room and saw her standing by the bar, muttering angry curses under her breath at her computer, it all came crashing back and I forgot how to breathe. She wore a sheer cover-up over that fucking blue bikini, but I could still clearly see every inch of her gorgeous body underneath. The same body I’d touched and been inside of. Her thick, dark hair was up in a messy bun on top of her head with pieces falling down around her face, but I could still see the smooth expanse of her neck. The same one I’d nipped with my teeth and tasted with my tongue.
When my dick instantly hardened for her, it pissed me off that I had no control whenever I was within ten feet of that woman. She made me forget about my job, she made me disregard my dreams and almost throw away everything I’d worked so hard for. She made me want to break all of my own rules and not give a shit about the consequences. I had every intention of telling her what happened was a one-time thing, apologize for acting unprofessionally and assure her I wouldn’t do anything else to screw up the rest of her vacation, but it all flew out the fucking window when my dick had other ideas and I lashed out at her.
“Let’s just get something straight here, buddy,” Brooke continues. “I know you look at my friend and you see a woman who’s led a privileged life and that seems to piss you off for some reason, but you don’t know one Goddamn thing about her.”
What she’s saying to me isn’t really a surprise. Even though the rest of her family acts like entitled assholes, I knew within the first couple of minutes of meeting her she was different from them. But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t had an easy life. It doesn’t mean she hasn’t had things handed to her on a silver platter that other people had to bust their ass for. Sure, she’s not a bitch and she appreciates people who do things for her and actually has manners, but we live in completely different worlds. She doesn’t know the first thing about sacrifice or worrying about screwing up a job that you depend on to pay the bills and to make your dreams come true. All of these differences between us become more glaringly obvious with each day that passes. I know I handled it all wrong, but the facts are still there. I refuse to ignore them just because she’s the hottest woman I’ve ever met.
“I know enough,” I reply in irritation, not wanting to get into this with Mackenzie’s best friend.
“No, you don’t. You see what you want to see. I know you guys just met, and I know whatever this thing is between you two isn’t going to turn into some happily ever after bullshit, but that still doesn’t give you the right to judge her,” Brooke fires back. “I thought it would be good for her to have a little fling with a hot guy on vacation. Something easy and fun that would take her mind off of things, but you want to make it more complicated and difficult, and she doesn’t need that shit right now, especially from you.”
I scoff, and now it’s my turn to shake my head at her.
“Especially from me? A poor, lowly deckhand who wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth?” I argue, my anger rising even though I know I’m doing it again. Forgetting about my professionalism and letting my emotions take over.
“Oh, please, that whole ‘Woe is me’ act doesn’t work, and frankly, it just makes you look pathetic. You’re talking to a woman who was born to middle class parents. My father worked in an automotive factory all his life and my mother was a kindergarten teacher,” Brooke explains. “And you’d know Mackenzie wasn’t born with a fucking silver spoon in her mouth if you actually took a few minutes to get to know her instead of making snap judgments just because of who her family is.”
Brooke takes a minute to close the sliding glass door behind her and
moves further into the room until she’s standing right in front of me. I should just send her back outside and try to hold onto whatever miniscule amount of professional behavior I have left, but part of me wants to hear what she has to say. Part of me wants to see how she could possibly prove me wrong.
“Did you know her father didn’t hit it big until she was a senior in high school? Up until that point, they lived in the same two-bedroom cottage he bought with her mother when they got married. Up until he sold his first app, they lived paycheck-to-paycheck, barely scraping by. Did you also know that she paid her own way through college working two jobs and taking out a shit-ton of student loans?” Brooke asks. “Because even though her father finally had money, she refused to take a hand-out from him, and he refused to have a spoiled brat for a daughter who didn’t know how to work for what she wanted.”
My indignation slowly starts to wilt with every word Brooke says, making feel like an even bigger asshole when she doesn’t stop, digging the knife even deeper into my chest.
“Sure, when she graduated college she was hired at her father’s company, but she went through the same interview process as everyone else and makes the same amount of money everyone in her department makes,” Brooke informs me. “She’s still trying to pay off her student loans, she gives all her free time to charity, and she works her ass off for every shitty penny she earns, in a job that makes her miserable and one she only took because she knew it would make her father happy to have her close. And I’m not even going to get into the shit she’s been going through with her father the last six months and the toll it’s taken on her and the stress that has kept her up nights, and how she’s forgotten how to have a life. That’s not my story to tell, but maybe if you hadn’t been a gigantic ASSHOLE, she would have shared it with you.”
I can’t do anything but stand here and take it. I feel like the shittiest person on the planet, and I deserve Brooke’s anger.
“Mackenzie doesn’t care if you’re a ‘poor deckhand’ or the richest man in the world. She cares about what type of person you are. She cares whether or not you’re a decent human being. Being hot as balls is also a bonus,” Brooke adds, finally giving me a small smile to alleviate the tension in the room. “She was attracted to you. She wanted to have some fun and let you help her forget about her troubles while she was stuck on this ship with Bitch One and Bitch Two and a father who has forgotten she exists. Period. You don’t want people to judge you because you don’t have a shit-ton of money to throw around? Then stop judging people who do.”
With that, she turns and heads back to the sliding door, making me feel even worse than I did when I first opened my mouth and spewed my judgment all over a woman who definitely didn’t deserve it.
Brooke pauses with her hand on the glass door, looking back over her shoulder at me.
“When you finally decide to pull your head out of your ass, try using the words ‘I’m sorry, I was wrong.’ Maybe even practice it in the mirror a few times and try not to look constipated when you say them,” she informs me. “Mackenzie is a pretty forgiving person, and I still think you could be good for her once you get that stick out of your ass and actually get to know her. Don’t fuck it up this time or I’ll chop off your balls and make you eat them.”
Brooke gives me a small wave over her shoulder as she leaves, and even though her words make me want to cover my balls and guard them with my life, at least she managed to make me smile.
Formulating a plan that hopefully won’t get me fired, I race out of the main salon in search of Ben and Eddie, hoping they’ll cover for me for a little while so I can make everything right.
CHAPTER 12
Mackenzie
“Excuse me, Miss Talbot? Could I possibly steal Miss Armstrong from you for a little while?”
I refuse to turn around when I hear Declan’s voice behind me, cursing my body for betraying me when it makes a tingle go up my spine. Sitting Indian-style facing Brooke on the huge couch at the front of the ship down below the captain’s wheelhouse, I clutch the playing cards tighter in my hand, concentrating on the game of blackjack we’d started an hour ago instead of the idiot man with the hot voice.
“I don’t know, I’m about to kick her ass with this hand,” Brooke tells him.
I shoot her a dirty look behind my sunglasses for acknowledging his presence after I told her what he said to me, and for assuming she could ever kick my ass in blackjack.
“I promise I’ll bring her back and you can kick her ass then,” Declan replies, and I can practically hear the smile in his voice.
First, he’s a judgmental asshole, and now he’s a traitor. If I hadn’t already decided I was finished wasting my time with him after the pity party I gave myself in my room earlier, this would have put the final nail in his coffin.
“Ahhhhh, grasshopper CAN be taught,” Brooke mutters.
I silently watch her give the man behind me a smile and a wink and I want to ask her what the hell is going on, but again—done wasting my time, don’t give a shit, and all that nonsense.
“I’m a little busy here. And I need to talk to my dad,” I remind Brooke, even though I’ve put off talking to him all afternoon.
The idea that I’d much rather ruin my father’s life than spend even one second with Declan McGillis should have me questioning my sanity, but I’m already well aware of how stupid and insane I’ve let this man I just met make me.
“Your dad went to go lie down and take a nap while the blonde bimbos are face down on the couches in the main salon, sleeping off their day-drinking hangovers. You’ve got nothing but time,” Brooke reminds me, grabbing the cards out of my hands and collecting the rest that are strewn all over the cushions between us.
When I finally emerged from my room, going over how I would explain everything to my dad to make it as easy as possible on him, worrying how no matter what I said, he wouldn’t take it very well, I found Brooke apologizing to Zoe and telling her the two women were officially cut off from any more alcohol the rest of the day. I have no idea what happened while I was gone, and I didn’t want to know. The pissed-off look on Zoe’s face, the annoyance on Brooke’s while we watched Jessica scoop up broken glass from the deck, and Allyson and Arianna standing off to the side pointing and laughing at her gave me enough to fill in the blanks about what I’d missed.
I was more than a little shocked when my father actually stepped forward and told them both in a stern voice, I’ve never heard him use with them before, that it was time for them to go inside and sleep off the alcohol. When he continued to stand there glaring at them angrily, they smartly decided to keep their mouths shut and do what he said. I didn’t even realize I’d been standing there quietly with my mouth wide open until the three of them disappeared inside and Brooke made a comment about hell freezing over and my dad finally finding his balls again.
Instead of immediately going in search for him to get what I needed to say over with, Brooke suggested a game of cards so I could give him some time to cool off after having to deal with the two embarrassing women and give myself time to get my thoughts in order.
Declan suddenly enters my line of vision, moving to stand next to me on the couch and holdng his hand out for me to take.
“Please? I promise I’ll only keep you off the boat for a little bit, and we’ll be back before they wake up,” Declan says softly.
“Are you planning on jumping over the railing while we’re moving? I could give you a push if you’d like,” I reply sarcastically, unable to stop myself from answering him, even though I vowed to ignore him for the rest of the trip.
I make the mistake of finally tipping my head up to look at him, and I grit my teeth when he smiles down at me. It’s bad enough I want to punch his dimples right off his cheeks, now he has to torture me by wearing a tight, light blue, long-sleeved swim shirt that hugs every damn muscle in his chest and arms. His matching blue and white, Hawaiian-print board-shorts-style swim trunks hang low on his hips and I really h
ate the guy for giving me all these conflicting feelings of hatred and lust.
“Um, considering we stopped about thirty minutes ago and dropped anchor, I don’t think I’d suffer serious harm if I jumped overboard. Even if you pushed me.”
Glancing away from his stupid smiling face long enough to look beyond him, I realize he’s telling the truth when I don’t see the blur of the ocean as we move through it. Everything is still and calm and I feel like an idiot that I was so distracted by thoughts of my dad and Declan that I didn’t even notice we’d come to a stop.
“Captain saw some bad weather up ahead and decided to wait it out in calmer waters and hope it’ll move around us by sundown,” Declan explains, still holding his hand out for me to take.
I don’t want to go anywhere with him. I can see it written all over his face that he wants to apologize for what he said to me earlier, but I don’t give a shit what he has to say. He means nothing to me. He was going to be a quick vacation fling and that’s it. If he wants to think I’m a spoiled princess and treat me like dirt because of it, I don’t care. Crossing my arms in front of me, I refuse to accept the hand he continues to offer and the olive branch he’s trying to extend.
“You’ll have to excuse my friend, she’s a little stubborn. I think we might need a little more to sweeten the pot before she gives in,” Brooke tells him with another damn wink that makes me want to shove her overboard.
“I thought we could go out on one of the jet skis and check out the coral reef a few miles from here,” he replies.
“A ride on a jet ski is not going to erase your asshole behavior that I did nothing to warrant,” I fire back through clenched teeth, my irritation and words making it glaringly obvious that I do care what he thinks of me and my feelings were hurt, even if I want to deny it.
