Full Steam Ahead

by Valerie Chase

  Still love her.

  The words pass through my brain with calm certainty, but I pause. Whoa. Love? It’s too soon for that word, isn’t it? Only a few days have past since all of this started. An intense few days, but far too early to be thinking this way. Right?

  Or maybe when you know, you just know.

  I have to find her.

  With swift strokes, I kick my way back to shore and shrug on my t-shirt and sandals without bothering to towel off. The flames of the bonfires illuminate the beach as I search for Georgia in her sopping blue dress, but I can’t find her amongst the partygoers. She must’ve bolted back to the ship. I’m about to race toward the dock when a slim form steps in front of me.

  “Hey,” says Yasmin, and I draw up short.

  “Hold up your hands,” I say. “And drop whatever knives you’re carrying.” I’m only half joking. The girl is fit enough to do some real damage.

  A wry smile curls Yasmin’s lips. “No weapons. I come in peace.” Her humor fades. “Look, I wanted to ask whether someone could have found out that stuff about your dad from your phone.”

  My hackles go up at the mention of my dad, but I shrug. Between the email and the voicemail the lawyer left …

  “I guess. Why?”

  “Because Kelsey says she saw Samantha with your phone earlier on the beach today. Samantha’s been caught snooping before, at the sorority house. I thought you should know.”

  I groan, realizing that I did leave my phone on my beach towel for most of the afternoon. I hadn’t expected anyone to snoop, but … it hits me that Georgia didn’t tell anyone. In the wake of her confession I’d forgotten all about the ugly dinner scene, but now a knot eases in my chest.

  “Where’s Georgia?” I ask. Yasmin glances back at the ship.

  “Probably packing. She’s going to stay with me for the rest of the trip.”

  “Like hell she is,” I mutter, and take off for the boarding dock.

  ~ ~ ~

  I find Georgia in our cabin, scooping clothes from the dresser drawers back into her suitcase that’s splayed open on her bed. She hasn’t even changed out of her dress, which is dripping saltwater all over the carpet. I almost take her into my arms right then and there but I don’t want to startle her.

  “Stop packing,” I say, closing the door behind me. Georgia jumps at the sound of my voice, and whirls around. Her hair has come undone from its earlier twist, straggling damply down her neck. She’s so beautiful that it hurts, though it pains me more to see the tears that wet her cheeks.

  “Give me a couple minutes, and I’ll leave,” she says, like she didn’t even hear me. I cross my arms and lean back against the door.

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  At that, her blue eyes go from distraught to confused. “Are you switching rooms with someone?”

  “No, we’re both staying right here.” My words fill our tiny cabin, fill the space between us, and Georgia’s expression freezes in a sort of painful hope. Then she shakes her head.

  “After what I told you …”

  “I don’t care what you did two years ago.” I push off the door and round my bed until I stand only inches from her, close enough to make Georgia look up at me. I cup her pale face in both my hands and brush the hair away that has curled onto her cheek. “Yeah, it wasn’t the right thing to do, but you don’t deserve to pay for it the rest of your life. You’re not a bad person, Georgia. You just messed up.”

  Georgia bites her lip. “You didn’t seem to feel that way about your dad.”

  I frown. “That’s not the same thing.”

  Georgia reaches up to encircle my wrists with her fingers, and pulls my hands away from her face. “Isn’t it?” she asks softly.

  I open my mouth to say that the two situations are totally different—she screwed up years ago and has now made something of herself, proven that she’s not that same person who … I stop right there, because the realization hits me like a stone wall.

  Shit, Georgia’s right. No wonder she looked so uncomfortable when I told her I’d never forgive my dad for what he did to my family. No wonder she didn’t trust me to stand by her.

  “Okay, maybe there are some similarities,” I admit, and Georgia’s mouth twists. She starts to turn back toward the open drawer, but I grab her shoulders and keep her facing me. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve another chance. Although honestly, I’m the one who needs a second chance. I should’ve been more patient. To let you tell me in your own time. I hope … I hope you can forgive me for that because I’m not letting you go.”

  She shrinks away. “I have to drop out of college, Jace. I have to tell the blackmailer that I can’t pay him anymore. He might send me to prison. You don’t deserve people whispering that you have a jailbird girlfriend along with your jailbird father.”

  “I don’t care what people say.” Back at the beach, before Georgia showed up, several of my frat bothers who had already heard about the dining room blowup—word really does travel fast—had asked me about my dad. For once, I told them the truth instead of changing the topic. After all, they are my brothers, and I had to at least give them a chance to be there for me. Most of them had slapped me on the back and told me that the situation sucked, and other understated guy-isms that meant they cared. Only one guy, Drew, had sneered at me, but he’s an asshole anyway.

  Georgia grabs her wet shoes from the floor and shoves them into her bag. “You deserve better, okay? Someone who doesn’t hide things. Someone nice, and honest, and sweet. Someone who can travel through Europe without worrying about the statute of limitations in the state of Louisiana.”

  Okay, so maybe Georgia’s potential legal problems might put a kink in my backpacking explorations. But Europe will always be there, and I already know that I’d hate visiting the Louvre without her. I’d hate being anywhere without her, frankly.

  “Does this nice sweet girl you’re talking about read embarrassing zombie novels?” I ask, very seriously.

  Georgia’s cheeks flush a faint peach.

  “No way.”

  I make a noncommittal sound. “She sounds kind of boring.”

  The gorgeous eyes of hers fly up to meet mine, and her lips part in surprise. “Jace …” she breathes, and I can hear an argument on the tip of her tongue, so I bring my hand up to her cheek and brush my thumb across her lower lip.

  “Georgie,” I say quietly, and watch her expression change, flicker from disbelief, to agonizing hope, and finally to a brilliant, radiant smile that is more beautiful than any piece of art the whole world over.

  I grin too and kiss her forehead, then meet her gaze.

  “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together, okay?”

  Georgia bites her lip, then steps into my embrace. “Okay.”

  I hold her tight to me, her breath warm against my neck. We’re both soaking from our swim, and she’s shaking a little, from cold or emotion. Maybe both. Her bare shoulders tempt me into leaning down to trail my lips against her smooth skin. I grin when she shivers. This time it’s not from the cold.

  “Let’s get you out of this dress and into something warm,” I say, and straighten. Instead of stepping away, though, Georgia stretches herself against me, molding her curves to my body and standing on tiptoe to place her cheek next to mine.

  “Or maybe only that first part?” she says in my ear. Every muscle in my body tenses with anticipation. “I should probably wash the saltwater out of my hair. Help a girl out?”

  I grin, my hands find the zipper of her dress, and within ten seconds she’s as naked as any ancient goddess statue. And she puts them all to shame. I shed my wet t-shirt and swim trunks, and soon we’re in the tiny shower, her body pressed up against mine because there’s hardly enough room for us both. I’m not complaining. My hands cup her breasts lovingly, and I hear Georgia sigh.

  “What now?” I ask as her arms twine around my neck.

  Georgia gives a soft, wicked laugh, and I’m hard even before
she starts to whisper into my ear. Groaning, I push her against the cool tiles of the wall.

  “Whatever you say, Lady Cantwell,” I murmur, then sink into her sweet kiss.

  Epilogue

  Georgia

  Nervously, I wring my hands together and pace until finally Yasmin tells me to sit down before she’s forced to tie me to the bench. I grimace, but slide between her and Jace, who studies me with a grim calm.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs, and I lean into him. It’s two weeks after the cruise ended, but sometimes I feel anywhere but on solid ground. Especially right now, waiting for this confrontation.

  Baxter’s southern quad buzzes with students. We’re already a few days into the semester, and though I’m glad I’ve pulled together enough money to make my first tuition payment, I’ve barely been able to concentrate on classes.

  “Distract me,” I plead to Jace.

  He puts his arm around on my shoulder and pulls me in close. “I emailed my dad’s lawyer. Did I tell you that?”

  “No, when did that happen?”

  “Earlier this morning.” He takes a long breath. “I’m going to testify on my dad's behalf at his parole hearing.”

  I sit up straight and search his expression. “You sure you’re okay with that?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I don’t want him hanging around my mom and sister, but … if he’s earned himself parole, I won’t get in the way. After that, we’ll see what happens.”

  I twine my fingers in his. “Do you want me to go with you to the hearing? I totally get it if you want to go alone but—”

  His mouth quirks. “You should probably meet my mom and sister before you meet my dad,” he says. “What about this weekend?”

  Happiness fills me up so full I feel I might burst. I love him so much, though I'm not going to freak him out by confessing that yet. I get the feeling, though, that he already knows.

  “Sounds great,” I say shyly. I hope they like me.

  “They’re going to love you,” he says, as if he can read my thoughts. I can’t hide from Jace … but I don’t want to. Warmth spreads through me, and I wish that I could return the invitation. My mom has barely spoken to me since I told her in no uncertain terms I wasn’t going to try and win Hunter back. She said we’d lose the house, but I finally realized that Elise was right, that my parents’ money problems are their money problems, not mine. I can’t keep trying to save my parents by destroying myself.

  My dad seemed ready to give me the silent treatment too, but a couple days later sent me an email. It wasn’t long, or particularly warm—he’s never been that type—but surprisingly, he apologized for placing so much pressure on my shoulders. He told me to enjoy my last semester of college, and not to listen to my mom.

  Of course, whether I get to enjoy the remainder of college depends on the next fifteen minutes.

  Right as I glance at my watch—noon on the dot—Yasmin tenses next to me.

  “Is that him?” she asks. She nods out at the quad, and I spot a guy in a grungy button-down shirt and jeans who’s striding toward our bench, the appointed meeting spot.

  “That’s him,” I whisper. My blackmailer looks nondescript, fading into the college students ambling around him, except that I remember him from two years ago when he checked me in for my doctor’s appointment with my parents. Now, his hair is longer, and his face is … harder.

  His eyes narrow on me, on the three of us, and he stops twenty paces away.

  Drawing in a long breath, I stand and walk over to him on shaky legs. Jace and Yasmin follow behind me.

  “Who are they?” my blackmailer asks. His voice is harsh.

  “Friends of mine.”

  He hesitates, then crosses his arms. “Whatever. I’m here. Where’s the money?”

  A week ago, I told him that I would pay him in cash this time—but only in person. Ever since he had agreed to those terms, I’ve been thinking about this very moment, what I would say and how I would say it. Part of me wants to run away, but instead I meet his hard gaze squarely.

  “There is no money. I’m broke. You don’t seem to realize it, but my family is in debt. A lot of debt. My parents are probably going to have to file for bankruptcy, and my job barely lets me make my tuition payments.”

  His mouth tightens. “I don’t need your little sob story. Where is my money?”

  I nearly quail beneath the hellishly cold gaze, but with Jace and Yasmin behind me, I shake my head.

  “I already told you. I don’t have it.”

  “You better find some soon then.” His voice has turned low and menacing. “Do you know what prison would be like for a pretty girl like you?”

  My lips feel numb with fear, but I won’t let him scare me anymore. “If you want to turn me into the police, then do it. But I can’t—I won’t—give you another dime.”

  His lips curl into a sneer. I want to back up a few steps but I don’t budge. He eyes me for a few minutes, then finally shrugs. “If that’s the way you want it. Have fun in jail, sweetheart.” Without another word, he wheels and walks away.

  My knees feel like they will buckle at any second. Oh, God. I did it. I stood up to him—and he’s going to turn me in. I can’t help the fear shooting through me, but part of me feels … lighter. Whatever comes my way, I’ll handle it the best I can.

  I’m about to collapse when Yasmin and Jace both brush past me.

  “Stay here,” Yasmin mutters to me, and she and Jace trot after the guy.

  “But—”

  Jace glances at me. “We’ll be back in a minute. Don’t go anywhere.”

  I watch them hurry down the sloping path toward … I realize I don’t even know my blackmailer’s name. I routed my payments through an anonymous bank account, and though I could have called my old doctor to ask him the name of his former receptionist, I’d been too afraid that would bring up too many questions.

  But if my blackmailer comes after me, I can track him down. At Jace’s suggestion earlier, I’d had my phone taping our conversation from my back pocket. Slipping it out, I stop the recording. I don’t know whether the guy said anything particularly incriminating, but it might help. If it comes to that. My stomach churns at the thought, but I grit my teeth and tell myself that I’m not going to throw up or fall over.

  Yasmin and Jace catch up to my blackmailer—my former blackmailer, I correct myself—halfway across the sunny quad. Jace grabs the guy’s arm and spins him around, and Yasmin goes off on him, her tanned features very fierce. At first, the guy only smirks at tiny five-foot-two Yas, but then his face pales. Jace adds something, and any remaining color drains from the guy’s face. He jerks out of Jace’s grasp, then hurries away.

  Jace and Yasmin walk back over to me. I have managed, against all odds, to keep standing.

  “What’d you say?” I ask.

  Yasmin shrugs.

  “I suggested that unless he wanted his intimate parts to get real familiar with a butter knife, among other things, he’d leave you the hell alone.”

  “What is it with you and dull knives?” Jace asks her, and they laugh. After a moment, I’m laughing too, more from relief than anything. I’m so lucky to have them.

  “You think it worked?” Yasmin says seriously when our laughter dies down.

  “I hope so,” Jace says. “For his sake.”

  Overcome with gratitude, I give kiss each of them on the cheek. “Either way, thank you, guys. Thank you so much.”

  Jace loops an arm around my shoulders. “No one gets to torment you but us,” he teases, though there’s a serious note in his voice. For a few days after the cruise, I was seriously considering going to the police and confessing myself, but Jace and Yasmin convinced me that it wouldn’t do any good to stir up something that is—in the scheme of things—not so bad. They told me that I’ve been punishing myself for months already, and Yasmin pointed out that no one got seriously hurt because of the false insurance claim.

  Instead, I sentenced myself to
a thousand hours of community service. When break ended, the rest of my sorority sisters weren’t entirely sure why I started spending every spare second helping homeless people put résumés together at a shelter in New Orleans, but it makes me feel better to think that I’m in some way redeeming myself.

  Of course, nothing changes the fact that I’ll be looking over my shoulder for the next few years, wondering whether that audio file will come to light before the statute of limitations expires. Whatever happens, thought, I know I can get through it. And I know at least two people who will be at my side.

  I smile, feeling lighter than I have in a long time. “Who wants lunch? My treat.” I’m still broke, though I’ve signed up for double J. Crew shifts, but certain times call for a celebration.

  Yasmin checks the clock on her phone. “I wish, but I have class.” She hugs me tightly. “I’ll catch you later at the house, okay?”

  After she trots off, I turn to Jace. “Lunch? Or should we meet up later?”

  He gives me the smile that has brightened every day of mine since New Year's Eve.

  "Can't it be both, Georgie?" he says, and kisses me deeply. When he raises his head, my knees have forgotten how to work again. This time, though, there's no fear, only the bright sunshine and Jace's glinting eyes.

  “Don’t call me that,” I say, but I know he’ll never stop. And I don’t want him to.

  Grinning, I drag his lips back down to mine.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dear Reader

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  Psst, Book 2 of the Sea Swept series, WITH EVERY BREATH, will be Yasmin’s story and will launch in Spring ‘14!

  ~ ~ ~

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for reading Full Steam Ahead!

  I hope you enjoyed Jace and Georgia as much as I enjoyed writing them. It has been so much fun to watch them fall in love (not to mention doing research on cruise ships!), and I’m honored that you picked up this little book of mine.