Delirium (Captive Love: Forced Proximity Standalones #4)

Chapter 8

Chapter

Eight

NASH

O f course James would bring this up now. Why wouldn’t he? He’d spent the last decade of my life trying to make me miserable, and I’d successfully avoided him to this point, but now he was here, at my goddamn dining table of all places, acting like the smug son of a bitch he was.

It’d been a long time since I wanted to punch someone. But I really wanted to punch James right now. Just once. Sober, this time.

But Camp and Scarlett didn’t need to be collateral damage just for existing, and I wasn’t that man anymore.

I wasn’t. Hadn’t been for a long time.

The knife sticking out of the table might have said otherwise, but it was the truth. And it was why I was here in the first place.

James continued to stare at me with the same cold glare I’d always hated, the one that told me exactly how disconnected he was from his feelings.

He’d always been a cold bastard. Obviously, taking over for his father hadn’t softened him up at all.

“Don’t,” I repeated, softer this time, hoping that somewhere in James’ heart of ice, he still remembered us as boys.

Friends, once. I wasn’t sure he even knew what a friend was anymore. Maybe he hadn’t for years.

James raised one blond eyebrow in my direction, then focused back on Scarlett. “The truth of the Carpe Diem is quite simple actually.”

Scarlett’s normally smooth skin was furrowed, a crease growing deeper between her brows. Camp, for what it was worth, remained silent, attention flicking back and forth between myself and James. I’m sure he was grateful the attention wasn’t on him for once.

I knew what James was playing at. He forgot I knew his games all too well for him to get away with this one. He didn’t actually care about everyone knowing about my past, but he knew I did.

He wouldn’t tell them now, because where would the fun be in that?

I just needed to call his bluff first.

Pulling my knife back out of the table, I straightened my shoulders, and left the plate of chicken in front of James. “You know what? You tell them whatever you want. No sweat off my back. But excuse me for not wanting to stick around while you do so.”

With one quick look back at Scarlett, just to make sure she wasn’t offended by my actions, I stormed out of the room and stomped up to the wheelhouse.

I knew taking James on board had been a mistake the minute he emailed me, feeding me bullshit about being the only one he trusted to get him up and down the river in one piece.

Bullshit . That’s all it was. I smelled it from a mile away, and still some stupid part of my brain was hopeful that everything he said was true, that he wanted to put bygones in the past, or whatever pompous shit he’d written. Besides, it wasn’t exactly like I was rolling in cash. James’ offer would be enough to set me up comfortably for the next few months, and pay for all the repairs Carpe Diem desperately needed. Most other captains would’ve docked their boats until they could get the repairs done, but I trusted my girl not to let me down. She was sturdy and strong, and wouldn’t give out just yet.

Landing hard in the chair next to her various controls, I threw my head back, scrubbing my hands over my eyes.

If I was wrong, and James hadn’t been bluffing, he’d be in there right now, telling Camp and Scarlett all the dirty secrets I’d spent years in the rainforest trying to bury. At the end of the day, Camp was going to believe what he wanted to believe. But Scarlett…I wasn’t sure I could handle her looking at me differently.

“Gulliable Nash, why wouldn’t he believe me when I fed him lines about being friends? Stupid Nash, of course he’d think I was telling the truth when I said I trusted him. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” I groaned, tipping dangerously far back in my old chair.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

My eyes flung open to Scarlett’s voice, at the exact moment I lost my balance in the chair, tipping too far backward, and landing with a solid thunk onto the floor.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Scarlett rushed over, offering me her arm to help me up.

“I’m fine, darling, nothing more than a bruised ego.” And possibly a bruised tailbone, but that was beside the point. I rubbed my lower back, pulling my chair upright. “You’re missing dinner.”

She shrugged, offering me a small smile. “It felt wrong to enjoy delicious food without the chef in question.”

Did he tell her? Was she just being nice now because she felt bad? “I’m sorry about that. James and my relationship is…strained.”

“That’s definitely one word for it.” Scarlett laughed. “I didn’t realize you knew each other when he first came onboard. You seemed distant. Not like people who have known each other for years.”

Years. How did she know? Did he tell her? “Yeah, well, a lot of years have passed since we were close, and a lot of life has been lived since then.” If we were ever close. I was beginning to have my doubts.

Scarlett was quiet, watching me with the soft examining eyes she regarded the world with. Even when she wasn’t talking, she was processing, putting puzzle pieces into place. Some of her books had fallen out when I was taking them to the storage room, books about understanding humans, and how we interacted with each other. I wondered what she thought about me. What she knew .

I wanted to ask. But how did you ask? Hey, did my ex-friend tell you my darkest secret I’ve spent the last decade running away from, or are we still cool? No way that question was normal.

Luckily for me, Scarlett was a mind reader. Or just well-read. “He didn’t tell us anything, if you’re worried. All he said to us was that ‘ Carpe Diem was nothing like you’re thinking,’ and then poured himself a glass of wine and started to eat. I came to check on you instead of sticking around.” She rolled her eyes with a smile. “I’m not sure if that tidbit of information was useful or not. It’s pretty easy to tell that nothing about this trip is anything like I thought it was going to be.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Hopefully, she wasn’t already over the drama and ready to leave. I wasn’t sure how to explain the usual trip down-river normally wasn’t anywhere as exciting as this. Usually, Humphrey was the highlight, maybe a howler monkey or two, until at least day three or four, when we got deeper into the rainforest, and civilization was farther behind us. But between guests? Or myself? Never too exciting.

She walked over with an easy confidence, sitting on the table across from me. “Jury is still out. Ask me again in 24 to 48 hours.”

“I’ll make a note of it in my calendar.” I leaned back in the chair once more, careful to not lean back so far that Scarlett would need to rescue me again. I was a feminist where it counted most, but I was still a firm believer that I should be the one helping her out, and not the other way around.

“ You have a calendar?” Her feet dangled from where she sat on the table, her legs swinging slowly, giving her a completely carefree air.

I grinned. “No. And even if I did, I’d never stick to it. But I’ll tell you what. I’m going to be an optimist and assume your answer will be good, and if it’s not, you’ll have to come correct me. Okay?”

“Okay.” Scarlett’s laugh was quiet, but real, and I found myself wanting more of it. I wanted to know more about her . I wanted to know why she was on my boat, but I didn’t want to pry, especially because she hadn’t pried about me and James.

But I could offer, couldn’t I?

“Did you…” I hesitated, the words sour on my tongue, burning a hole the longer I left them to linger. “Did you want to know what James really meant?”

Scarlett’s eyes widened, and even in the dull overhead light of the wheelhouse I could see the curiosity taking over.

If I were James, I would file that information away for later, scribbling it down in my diary— Scarlett’s weakness is her curiosity. She’ll let it get the better of her eventually —but I wasn’t James, and I had no intention of manipulating the beautiful soul in front of me. I simply wanted to offer myself to her, and see if I could find out more about her in return.

I waited for the yes to leave her mouth. Instead, she screwed up her face and shook her head. “No. I mean, yes, of course I do, but I’m also aware of how uncomfortable you are. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. I won’t ask for it before then.”

Scarlett’s words hung between us in the humid night air, the underlying meaning clear. I’d tell her when I was ready meant there was already something between us.

Something tangible.

Something that could grow, if I nurtured the tiny seed it was now.

I tried to ignore the way her words heated my blood, warming my skin to an uncomfortable degree. My family always said I wore my heart on my sleeve. My blush gave me away every time. Anger. Passion. Embarrassment. Love. It all made my skin light up the same shade as a traffic light.

Thankfully, the dark evening hid most of it, even though I was acutely aware of the way I felt too small for my skin. The effect she had on me was something else.

Or maybe I’d just been alone for too long.

“Well, seeing as you left dinner, you must be starving,” I said, getting to my feet—this time without falling.

She shrugged. “I’m okay. Don’t go to any extra effort on my account.”

As she finished speaking, her stomach growled loudly, and I gave her a pointed look.

“Okay, maybe I’m a bit hungry. I haven’t really eaten since this morning. But it’s fine, really. I have some granola bars in my bag, and I know you probably don’t want to go back into that dining room right now, and?—”

I cut her off with a wave of my hand and a smile. “Who said anything about going back to the dining room? Come on. I’ll show you where the galley is.”

I offered her my hand, unsure if she would take it or not. But with only a second-long look at me, a quick examination as if she could tell the measure of my soul with a single glance, she slipped her hand into mine and jumped off the table.

“I still feel bad you have to make me more, and all that food in the dining room is going to go to waste.”

I looked back at her in the flickering lights, the half-moon barely visible through the copse of trees, and laughed. “Did you not see Camp in there? The man looks like he can’t remember eating something that didn’t come out of a can. I’m pretty sure no food in that dining room is going to waste tonight.”

“Okay, okay, you might be right there.” Something flashed through her gaze at the mention of Camp’s name, and my blood warmed another degree.

Jealousy. I saw the way he looked at her when he and James were fighting. I didn’t miss the way she looked back at him. They were both science-types, right? They made sense together. I had no claim on her. Scarlett was a free woman, as far as I was aware.

Except her hand fit perfectly into mine. And she looked at me like she knew me. She knew I was hiding something, and somehow she still looked at me like she could trust me.

I didn’t want to lose that feeling.

Regretfully, I had to let go of her hand when we got to the stairs. “Watch your head here, okay? It gets low for a minute. I think people were a lot shorter when old Carpe Diem was constructed.”

I patted the awkward ledge that jutted out into the steep stairs—a superstition that hadn’t failed me yet—and straightened once the stairs rose again. Scarlett’s footsteps trailed behind me, light and sure, even as the boat swayed beneath our feet. It was easier to feel the rock of the river beneath the deck, surrounded by the water on all sides. It never felt suffocating down here, though. It only ever felt like coming home.

“Ooooof!” Carpe must have swayed to the side a bit too much, because the next thing I knew Scarlett was practically on top of me, gripping my shoulders for dear life. “Sorry! Sorry!”

She struggled to find her balance again, but Carpe was righting herself, and if you weren’t used to the sway of a boat in a river, you’d never stay upright. I grabbed her hand, squeezing it lightly. “You stay right there, darling. No sense in falling down the stairs again if you don’t have to. Besides, I don’t mind getting a little close to you.”

Getting a little close to you . I could’ve smacked myself. I was a dork and a half, only confirmed by Scarlett’s silence behind me. Although, she didn’t remove her hand from my shoulder.

“Just keep one hand on me until we get downstairs. It’ll help keep your balance. The river must be unhappy about something tonight.” The river had been churning something fierce all day, more so than usual. The mosquitos and no-see-ums were out in full force.

Something was off, but not quite wrong enough to put my finger on it. More a feeling than anything.

I helped Scarlett down the last few steps, and released her hand so I could point out a door across from us. “Engine room is right there. Across from it is the storage room. Any of your books I couldn’t fit in your room are in there. Don’t worry. They’re stored nice and safe.”

“Thanks, Nash.” Her stomach growled again, protesting anything else I might’ve said. “Jesus, you probably think I’m an idiot for forgetting to eat.”

I smiled to myself, pushing open the door to the small galley. “I think it comes hand in hand with the excitement of boarding the boat the first day. We all forget something.”

Scarlett brightened once we stepped into the well-equipped kitchen. “I wasn’t expecting all this to be hiding down here.”

“She might be an old boat, but she’s still got a few tricks up her sleeve.” I patted the stove, aging, but still in good condition.

The boat swayed with the river once more, something that shouldn’t be happening in the small alcove I anchored us in. I grimaced when something creaked and groaned around us, praying like hell it wasn’t the crankshaft. She’d been close to giving out on my last trip, but when I examined her closely, I thought she still had a few more trips left in her. Enough time for James’ money to hit my bank account at least. But if I turned us around now, James was likely to walk off the boat altogether, and then I’d never see the money.

“Nash? You okay? Do you need some help?” Scarlett’s voice pierced my thoughts once more.

“You can help me out by taking a seat right there.” I pointed to the chair pulled up to the narrow island. “The rest I’ve got handled.”

“You sure?” she asked.

“Absolutely.” I reached across the counter, grabbing the foil covered leftovers that hadn’t made it to the dining room. “My Gran had another saying. Make enough food for the crowd, then double it. I always have extras.”

The foil was still warm to the touch, and I started dividing it up on two plates. “Lucky for us, it’s still toasty, so we don’t need to sit around waiting for it to heat up.”

“I don’t mind sitting around with you.”

I snapped my gaze up from my plate to meet her eyes. “You don’t?”

“Why would I?” She reached across the island, grabbing one of the plates and pulling it toward herself. “Sorry for not standing on ceremony, but I’m starving.”

I brought my plate around to the side and sat down next to her, trying to ignore the creaking still echoing through the boat. I was certain no one else other than me would be able to hear it, but it felt like it was all I could hear.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you like the food.” I paused with a fork in midair, unable to stop myself from watching Scarlett eat like my food was the best thing she’d ever put in her mouth.

“HocouldInotlike…” She quickly swallowed her mouthful, and looked up at me. “You probably think I’m an animal. But seriously, how could I not like this? It’s delicious.”

Scarlett turned back to her plate, and I started eating mine slowly, enjoying simply being in her company. Any lingering thoughts of James were gone, replaced with the charismatic woman sitting next to me, who simultaneously cared far too much about other people, and couldn’t care less about what they thought about her.

Maybe my Gran had been right all along. All I needed to win a woman over was a good batch of fried chicken.