Chapter 21
JETT
It’s clear that Cari doesn’t want to be here.
Part of me doesn’t want her here either, for my own sanity, but I want to make it up to her for being such an ogre. Especially after messing up spectacularly yesterday, falling for Abigail’s story without consulting Cari.
The atmosphere between us seems especially tense as we step onto the yacht, a trip I’ve done countless times. The plan is simple—sail to a private beach, dock, and enjoy a lovely lunch. Brooke’s practically bouncing with excitement in her little swimsuit, though she’s thrown a frilly pink skirt over it for some reason. She wasn’t keen on wearing the life vest, but I insisted.
Then Cari walks aboard, and I realize why.
Brooke’s copied her. Cari’s covered up, with a sarong tied around her waist and a white linen shirt buttoned up to her neck. There are no signs of that hot, sexy number I saw her in the other day. I still haven’t recovered from it.
It’s probably good she’s not wearing that, though it’s hot out here. She’s dressed for anything but a day on a yacht.
“You’ll bake in that.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
Cari doesn’t even flinch. “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she says coolly, though her expression doesn’t match her words.
“Look, Daddy, I have a skirt too!” Brooke gushes, twirling her little pink skirt with a grin.
“Nice, sweet pea.”
“Yours is prettier.” Cari flashes Brooke a warm smile, but the way she shuts me down with just a glance is ice cold.
I glance back at the horizon and get my phone out, thinking I’ll check a few emails while we’re sailing.
“Daddy! No work today, remember?” Brooke’s voice is sharp with disapproval.
I sigh, putting the phone away. “Just checking a few things, sport.”
“If you’re going to work, I could’ve brought her here without you.” Cari’s voice carries an edge that makes me bristle. It’s dismissive, like I’m just in the way. I don’t like it.
I put the phone away and join them, leaning back against the railing. Brooke’s brought along her beloved elephant, as well as some dolls and coloring books, though she’s now holding up her elephant and a couple of dolls, making them “look” at the sea.
“Do they like it?” Cari asks, smiling as she watches her.
“They love it!” Brooke beams.
“Then it’s a good thing you brought them.” Cari’s eyes light up as she interacts with my daughter. She’s so good with Brooke.
Too good.
She’s great as my assistant and I’m going to struggle without her. The thought shakes me.
Brooke faces the water, lost in her world, holding her dolls up toward the sea. Cari undoes the top buttons of her shirt, and I can’t stop staring. She’s overheated—she must be—but she’s keeping her clothes on.
Good. I’m not sure I could handle seeing her in anything more revealing. I shift in my seat, glancing down at my own outfit—a light linen shirt and swim shorts. Perfect for a day like this. Cari walks up to me, hovering close as if she has something on her mind.
“You don’t have to include me in every outing when it’s just you and Brooke. I’m sure she would love to have you to herself,” she says in a lowered voice while Brooke is busy playing with her dolls.
“Brooke insisted. Glad you came, though?” I ask, wishing she could look happier about being here. She’s still sour about last night. And the night before. I’ve been such a jerk and we are only a couple of days into the trip. But I’ve apologized. What more does she want from me?
“I guess.”
Not the answer I wanted.
“I appreciate you being here,” I try again. “I’m sorry about … just sorry for …” For being a jerk on two consecutive days. It’s hard to say it, in the light of day. Cari’s right. Apologies don’t come easy to me, and I’ve already said sorry twice. “It won’t happen again,” I say. Keeping it vague. “But Brooke loves having you around.” I try to make a joke. “Maybe I should just hire you as her nanny instead of my PA.” Now there’s a thought.
Cari’s face hardens. “You’ll need to be more open with the next nanny. Nannies aren’t replacements for mothers. It’s still a job, no matter how much they care for her. They have lives outside of this.”
There’s a bite in her tone, but she’s right. I feel like she's giving me advice I need to take. ? I’ve gone through so many nannies since Brooke’s mother passed. None of them stayed long enough to make a real connection. Cari would be perfect for the role, but this isn’t what she wants to do, and I can understand that.
If only I could clone her. She’s so good at everything. I look at people like Alicia, and while they have brains, they lack so many other important qualities. Cari can run rings around most women.
“I might need you to do the interviews for me,” I say, jokingly, though a part of me means it. She would be able to weed out and find the perfect nanny for Brooke.
A crease lines her brow. “This trip was included,” she reminds me. “I’m still working while I’m here and I’m leaving a week after we get back, remember.”
“I remember.” How could I fucking forget? I only have a week in New York to get my act together. Then life begins without Cari, and it’s going to be hard. My eyes burn into hers. “I need to find someone as good as you, as amazing as you, and it’s not going to be easy.”
She moves away and slips into the seat opposite me. “You’ll have to make it happen. I’m sure you’ll be more than capable of finding someone you can rely on.”
“Thank you for agreeing to come. This,” I gesture around the yacht, “it’s the closest I’ve come to feeling like a family again. I know we’re not,” I add quickly, “but days like this are rare for us. Brooke is usually only with a nanny, and her world has been … fractured. I grew up without a mother. I know what that’s like.”
Cari’s eyes soften, turning glassy like she’s going to say something, but before she can, Brooke’s excited voice interrupts us.
“Daddy! Cari! Come look!”
We head over to where Brooke’s pointing, and my breath catches. Dolphins leap through the air, dancing in and out of the water with effortless grace. Brooke squeals in delight, and I grin at her joy.
Cari’s beaming too, her shirt now fully unbuttoned, hanging open to reveal a tankini underneath. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Thank God she’s not in that bikini.
The dolphins follow us for a while before disappearing, and we sail on toward a hidden cove. The water here is impossibly blue, almost fluorescent, and I order the captain to stop the moment I see it.
Brooke bounces on her feet. “Can we go in the water, Daddy?”
“Of course. Let’s go.” I toss my shirt aside and dive in, the water warm and inviting as it envelops me. Brooke jumps in right after me, darting around like a little fish.
“Come on, Cari!” she calls.
Cari shakes her head, staying on the deck. She’s obviously not comfortable stripping down any more than she already has.
Brooke splashes me, and I splash her back. We play, laughing as the sun beats down on us, the day slipping away in the warm embrace of the water. Brooke is an amazing swimmer, flitting away from me only to be scooped back up in a fit of giggles. Her tiny fingers dig under my armpits, tickling me until I’m yelping and letting her go.
“Catch me, Daddy!” she shrieks, swimming off again.
After a while, Brooke swims up to me, her eyes drooping. “I’m tired now, Daddy. And I’m hungry.”
I chuckle, hoisting her up onto the ladder. “Alright, sport. Let’s get back on the yacht.”
Once we’re back on deck, Cari’s waiting with a towel, drying off Brooke. As I climb up the ladder, I catch her giving me a quick glance, and I swear her cheeks flush pink. Feeling a surge of confidence, I puff out my chest a little, rubbing the towel over my skin with more flair than necessary. Why the hell are you posing, idiot?
But Cari turns away, focusing all her attention on Brooke. She’s taking her sweet time drying her off. “No point getting her bone dry. We’re stopping again soon,” I tell her.
Cari doesn’t respond, but I feel it once more, the quiet, invisible thrum of something between us. I tap her shoulder gently. “We’re having lunch. That alright with you?”
She startles slightly at my touch. “Yes, sure.” She seems wary, and I wonder what’s going on. She didn’t want to swim, and I didn’t push her. Her movements are jittery, almost like she needs something to do with her hands. Is it my imagination, or is she a little too jumpy around me today? Maybe it’s the first time she’s seen me shirtless. Hell, maybe it’s the first time I’ve seen her this way—in swimwear, on a yacht, out of the office.
She could be hungry, so it’s a good thing we’re stopping for a bite to eat. I bend down to Brooke. “How hungry are you?”
“I could eat a horse!” she exclaims, her face lighting up.
“I don’t have a horse for you, sport, but how about hot dogs?”
“Hot dogs? Where, Daddy?”
I point toward the stretch of sand ahead. “Right over there. See the tent?”
Brooke squints, then her face lights up. “Hot dogs!” she cheers.
Cari glances over, shading her eyes with her hand. “Are those … people?” She looks at me, confused and curious. But there’s a hint of a smile on her face.
CARI
We could’ve brought a simple picnic hamper, but no, Jett Knight has to take it a step further. He sent two of his kitchen staff ahead on a speedboat to cook for us. Of course, he did.
It’s sweet, the effort he’s making for Brooke, to make each moment memorable. I give him the side eye and my insides turn mushy. He is a good dad, and Brooke is lucky to have him.
By the time we reach the shore, there’s a tent set up. The smell of grilled hot dogs, shrimp, and fish floats toward me, making my stomach growl.
“This is … over the top … but amazing,” I say.
Jett’s eyes search mine. “Not too much?” he asks, like he’s seeking my approval.
“You did well,” I whisper to him.
He smiles.
“Hot dogs!” Brooke squeals, running ahead. “Thanks, Daddy!”
We could’ve managed with a hamper, but this is his world—one where everything is excessive and exaggerated, and I’m learning to sit back and enjoy it. “It’s lovely,” I say, watching Brooke race toward the familiar kitchen staff. They all know her by name.
There’s even a small table set for three. It’s elegant, yet simple, a far cry from what I’m used to. But that’s the thing with Jett. He knows how to make moments special, especially for Brooke. It’s touching to see this side of him, the softer, more thoughtful side. So different from the man I work for. This version of him is calm, kind, and careful. This is the side of him that came out when my world collapsed.
“This really is amazing, Jett,” I repeat, genuinely in awe of the day he’s crafted.
We eat quickly, silently, enjoying the food and the moment. The food is delicious, the setting picturesque. It’s been a perfect day. One I’ll remember for a long time.
And then there’s him. I can’t stop thinking about him in those swim shorts, especially when he climbed back on deck earlier and crouched beside Brooke, smoothing sunscreen on her back.
Earlier Brooke reminded me to do Daddy’s back.
So I had to.
This time the roles were reversed, and I got to spread my hands all over his wide shoulders and back. Squeezing out the milky lotion and rubbing it into his skin felt so erotic. I could barely breathe. I tried to swallow a few times, but my mouth was dry. It caused the familiar heat to build between my legs, and I wondered if this excited him the way it excited me.
And when he came back out of the water, dripping wet, his body gleaming in the sunlight … it was impossible to look away. His tanned, sculpted chest gleamed in the sunlight. His abs look like they were carved from stone. The water trickling down his chest, clinging to that dusting of dark hair, tipped me over the edge.
I had to bite my lip, and hide what the sight of him did to me. That was before my gaze fell to navy swim trunks hanging low on his hips—clinging to every ridge of muscle—and dipped lower before I could stop myself.
And what I saw … he’s big.
Huge.
I mean, I’d suspected it, but seeing it … confirmed everything. The worst part? He caught me staring. I turned red, completely mortified.
I had to look away, focus on Brooke, on anything but him. Thank God for the food, because I’ve been able to distract myself with that. And thank God he’s put a T-shirt back on.
After lunch, Brooke is busy building sandcastles, her laughter filling the air. I sit back, sipping on sparkling water as I watch her. “She’ll treasure this day forever.”
“As will I,” Jett replies, his voice contemplative. He seems lost in thought, staring out at the water. I glance at him, wondering what’s running through his mind. He’s hard to read in these moments.
“You’re doing a great job with her,” I tell him. “You really are.”
His brow furrows slightly, and he stays silent for a moment. I’m not sure if I’ve upset him or if he’s just deep in thought. “Growing up without a mother is … is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”
I shift in my seat, sensing something heavy behind his words. “I know it’s hard,” I offer quietly, not sure how much to say.
Jett sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Brooke needs a mother. But it’s not that simple.”
I blink, caught off guard by the personal turn in the conversation. “Did you … think Alicia was the one?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
He gives me a long, unreadable look. “It’s not about that.”
There’s a pause, thick with unspoken tension. I know this is personal, but I also feel like I’m treading in dangerous territory with the ground constantly shifting beneath my feet.
“You need to be more open with the next nanny,” I say, trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “You can’t just expect them to be a perfect replacement. You have to listen to them.”
“I listen to you.”
I chuckle, but my heart jumps inside my ribcage at something that sounds like a compliment. “I don’t really give you advice.”
“Don’t you?” His voice is soft, his gaze intense. I let out a nervous chuckle.
Before I can respond, Brooke calls out, “Come help me with my sandcastles!”
“Go on,” I say, encouraging him.
“I’m not doing this alone. I haven’t built a sandcastle since I was a kid,” Jett protests.
“All the more reason to help your daughter now.”
“You’re coming too.” He grabs my hand, and the moment his skin touches mine, a jolt of electricity shoots through me. But he doesn’t seem to notice. He pulls me up, leading me toward Brooke.
We all join in, building sandcastles together. Brooke’s happiness is infectious, and for a while, it’s easy to forget everything else. I’ve opened the buttons to my shirt, and I do feel silly wearing it. I might as well be in a firefighter’s outfit for how ridiculous this looks. Kneeling as I am, my sarong has come undone and when it falls off, I let it. I’m not wearing a skimpy thong underneath.
I’d never have the guts to do that again, not in front of Jett, and him seeing me was a pure accident. I still feel naked in my shorts and tankini top though. It’s so hot out and I want to shrug out of my shirt, but it feels like too much exposure.
Something has shifted since lunch. I feel more relaxed, and Jett doesn’t feel like my boss. Come to think of it, that commanding, dominating man has disappeared. I like this softer, more playful Jett, and when he said this feels more like family it made goosebumps erupt all over my skin.
If only.
I shake my head, dispelling those crazy thoughts of a stupid, crazy fairytale.
Jett laughs freely, with gusto, more than I’ve ever seen him. It does feel nice. Like I belong here. Like we’re a family.
We get carried away, building an entire village of sandcastles, complete with towers and moats. They are all spread out on the shore. Then Jett decides to build different sized sandcastles on top and we all make a second tier.
By the time we’re done, we’ve created something incredible. It feels like a snapshot of what life could be like—if things were different.
“I wanna swim!” Brooke exclaims suddenly, breaking the moment.
Jett shrugs. “Okay, let’s swim.”
He peels off his T-shirt, and I force myself to look away. He heads toward the water with Brooke, then glances back at me. “Come on.”
I shake my head, focusing on the sandcastle I’m rebuilding.
“The water’s great,” Jett calls over, wading deeper into the ocean. When I don’t move, he comes back, walking out of the water like a god, his biceps flexing as he raises his arms and smooths back his hair. His chest, the ridges and valleys of muscle, are a blur as I hastily look away.
“Cari, you’re missing a lot of fun.” There’s a determined look on his face that I’ve seen in business meetings. “It’s warm. You’ll love it.”
“I’m good,” I mumble, feeling my heart race.
He frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can you swim?”
“Of course I can swim,” I snap, feeling defensive.
“Then what’s the problem?”
I hesitate. It’s not that I can’t swim. I just … I don’t like deep water. I don’t like the idea of being out of control.
“Okay. I’m coming,” I say reluctantly, more to get him off my back than anything. He turns and walks back to the water, and I quickly strip off my shirt and wade in behind him, keeping my eyes on the horizon and not on his perfect form.
The water is warm, just like he said. Refreshing, even. But I can’t go near him. Not with the way my body reacts every time we’re close.
Brooke makes a game of swimming around us, splashing us with water, her laughter filling the air. She’s an impressive swimmer who puts me to shame. The water is shallow, and my feet pad across the soft sand. Soon, we’re swimming further out, and it is so much fun. The water is shallow, my feet touching the soft sand beneath. It’s impossible not to get caught up in the fun, even as I try to keep my distance from Jett.
Once or twice, in a bid to get away from Brooke, I accidentally bump into Jett. He’s all hardness.
“See, it's not so bad,” he says, water trickling down his face. His lips are wet, and I feel the urge to lick the water off.
I feel the urge to do more than that, so I swim away, needing to put physical space between us. Our bodies have brushed a few times, an electric spark zapping in my heart each time. It’s too intense, causing the space between my legs to pulse. The water hides my arousal, but I feel my breasts turn heavy, so I swim out further than I intended. When I stand up, I can't touch the water.
I glance back, seeing Jett and Brooke a distance away, and that’s when it happens.
I go under.
Panic surges as water fills my mouth, and I thrash, trying to get my bearings. I go down once, twice, three times, and this time everything happens in slow ? motion. I take in mouthfuls of water, and I fear this is it.
I'm going to die.
I will drown in paradise and everyone will laugh. Jett will laugh. The Knights will talk about this at one of their dinners. Or maybe not. I don’t suppose an assistant drowning on vacation would make the cut for dinner conversation.
The more I struggle, the more I go under. Once, twice, and then everything slows down. Water fills my lungs, and I’m sinking, sinking, sinking …
I flail and panic, struggling to keep afloat. Then strong arms grab me, pulling me up, holding me tight. I gasp, sputtering, my hair plastered to my face as I inhale sharply.
“I’ve got you,” Jett’s voice is calm, steady and his eyes are locked on me. But I begin to choke. He offers me soothing words, and I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to him like a barnacle, until he tells me I need to get upright so that he can help get me back to the shore.
I blink, still disoriented, but I feel safe. Jett is here. He swims with me, strong and steady, holding me close until we reach the shallows. Once I can touch the ground again, I stop, still shaking, my chest heaving with breath.
“You’re safe now.” He brushes my hair away from my face.
I’m trembling, and the humiliation burns through me. Jett keeps his arms around me, grounding me, reassuring me. I don’t know why I do it, but I wrap my hands around him, feeling gratitude that I didn’t drown and die. I press against him, feeling his strong, hard chest against mine. And then I feel it; something hard pressing into my stomach, and instinctively, my hands slide lower and I cup his bottom.
It just happens. It’s unwarranted and wild, but we stand there, chest to chest, and I stare up at him. His eyes are locked on mine, and in this moment, everything else fades away.