CHAPTER THIRTEEN #2
“It’s mostly because of how I was raised.
It’s tough to just stop believing some of that shit.
Even when deep down, I know it’s wrong—like the Earth being flat and all that.
But it was hammered into my skull for so long there are still fragments—shards of it—embedded deep.
I’m still trying to pull them out. But then I keep finding more.
” Cautiously, I met his gaze. “I’m sorry. ”
He grunted.
“I’m also sorry for the loss of your sisters-in-law. That couldn’t have been easy on any of you. You were—you are —a family. You deserved to grieve too.”
“I know,” he said, a slight edge to his voice. “And I did. Alone. Quietly.”
“How are you feeling with all this choppy water?” I asked, hating how I spun us into this tension-riddled state with my judgy, skeptical attitude. I wanted to get back to … somewhere. I wasn’t sure where, just not here.
“I’m fine,” he said, though he didn’t look fine. His color was greener than it was a moment ago. I reached for his free hand—and he let me—measured on his wrist the way he did with mine, found the thick, tight tendons, and pressed my thumb down between them. “There.”
“Thanks,” he murmured.
We sat quietly, holding and pressing down on each other’s wrists for the duration of the rough ride. We weren’t the only passengers green around the gills when we finally docked on San Camanez. One man managed to keep from vomiting until we docked, then he dashed out and let loose over the stern.
“Sorry about that, folks,” Gus said, standing up while Caleb tied us to the dock. “Glad we all got here in one piece.”
Much like an airplane, there were some eager beaver passengers who stood up before their row cleared, and pushed their way to the front. Neither Jagger nor I moved until the aisles were all empty. We were home now. We could wait until the boat was clear.
Also, I didn’t hate the physical contact.
Once everyone unloaded and it was just us left, he released my wrist, and I released his. Then we met Gus at the back of the boat. He handed us our bags. “Always nice to see you, Gus,” Jagger said, shaking the man’s hand again. “Send Edie and the kids my love. And Merry Christmas.”
Gus grinned behind his bushy beard. “I will. You have a Merry Christmas too.”
Jagger let me lead the way and climb onto the dock with wobbly sea legs. Or at least I didn’t know they were wobbly until I nearly fell sideways when I stepped off the ramp between the boat and the dock.
He dropped his bag and caught me. “Whoa there, Elsa. You okay?”
I blinked as a heat of embarrassment climbed up my neck. “Yeah, just … Ariel’s finding her legs again.”
He snorted, his hand still on my elbow. “Did you just compare yourself to the Little Mermaid?”
My glare held no fire when I shot it at him. “Yes. We’re both redheads. And we can both sing.”
“And you both talk to seagulls and have tenuous relationships with your father?”
He didn’t know the half of it when it came to my relationship with my father.
“As a matter of fact, I can and do talk to seagulls. It’s one of my many talents. I also have a cave of whosits and whatsits galore.”
He grabbed my bag before I could stop him and picked up his again as well. “Well, whatever, but I’ve heard you sing, and you are no Ariel—or Elsa.”
My mouth dropped open. “Ouch. I’ve heard you sing too, and you’re no—”
He smirked, waiting for me to finish that insult. “Prince Hans? Kristoff? Olaf?”
“You have a real Frozen obsession, don’t you?”
“I’ve watched it like four hundred and eighty-three times.”
“How many of those were on your own without children?”
Oh mama, the cheeky grin that followed made my knees weak as we followed the crowd down the dock toward the ramp that led to the parking lot.
Danica said she would come pick me up and planned to bring Marco too.
I wasn’t sure I was ever going to let my little boy go once I wrapped my arms around him.
“For the record,” he went on, letting me go ahead of him up the ramp, “you’re not a terrible singer. I just think it’s a bit of a stretch to call yourself Ariel. And you’re definitely not an Elsa.”
“I never called myself Elsa. That’s been all you.” I grinned at him as we reached the top of the ramp. My cousin stood in front of her gunmetal gray SUV, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched Jagger and I chat and laugh our way across the parking lot.
Jagger’s smile grew wider. “I called you Elsa because you’re a little ice queen.
But your personality and hair—” he reached out and tugged on a loose curl that had escaped my braid, “are way more like Anna. Rebellious, cheeky, and …” his eyes sparkled as he glanced down at me, causing my heartrate to spike, “passionate.”
My cheeks heated up, and I tucked that strand behind my ear just as we reached Danica. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she greeted, curiosity burning in her green-hazel eyes as they bounced between Jagger and me. “Rough trip over?”
“Yeah,” I breathed, glancing out to sea. “But we made it through.”
“That we did,” Jagger said, his gaze moving from my face to two kids—one boy, one girl—heading our way.
My chest swelled close to bursting at the sight of my son, walking next to Danica’s daughter, Samantha, or Sam.
Marco saw me and his pace picked up. Then he broke out into a full run to eat up the last few yards before launching himself into my arms.
My nose instantly fell to his copper-colored hair, and I took a big sniff. “I missed you, Mom,” he said, squeezing me tight.
Tears pricked the back of my eyes, and my throat grew tight. “I missed you too, baby. Sounds like you made the most of the power outage and had fun with your cousins though.”
Sam sidled up next to Danica and leaned against her.
She was the spitting image of her mother.
Blonde, lean, tall, and the same bright, intelligent hazel-green eyes with flecks of white around the irises.
After another tight squeeze to my kid, I released him and he released me, stepping away and instantly eyeing Jagger with hesitation.
“Hey, Sam-Sam,” I said, welcoming my cousin’s ten-year-old daughter, who was more like my niece, into my arms. She smelled like guava shampoo and innocence.
Much like her mother, she was also painfully shy, but also so incredibly sweet.
The child didn’t have an unkind or malicious bone in her body.
She was a vegetarian and obsessed with animals.
She rescued bees, ants, butterflies, and even wasps if she found them in distress and was determined to become a veterinarian when she grew up.
“Hey, Aunt Raina,” she said, squeezing me back before letting me go. “How was the power outage where you were?”
“Actually, pretty fun,” I said, glancing back at Jagger, who scanned the parking lot, probably looking for his ride. His eyes lit up, and I glanced in the same direction he was looking, to see Wyatt McEvoy sauntering forward, a cocky smile on his handsome face.
It really wasn’t fair how attractive all the McEvoy brothers were. Talk about good genes.
I glanced back at Marco, and he was still watching Jagger, this time with a deeper, darker look in his green eyes.
Uh-oh.
Running my hand over the back of my son’s head, I pressed a kiss to the top of it. “You okay, buddy?”
His nostrils flared.
Wyatt joined us. “Hey, guys. How’s it going?”
“You guys suffer from the power outage?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “Nah, not really. We have backup generators for the pub and cabins, and after the last big storm, we bought a few more to run for the houses.”
“I’m so glad we invested in some a few years ago, even though it cost a fortune,” Danica murmured, fiddling with her fingers in front of her. She always did that when she was self-conscious. It was part of her shyness and social anxiety. I smiled to myself when I spotted Sam doing the same thing.
“Well, we should probably get going, hmm?” Wyatt said to his brother.
Jagger nodded. “Yeah. I guess we need to figure out how we’re going to get stock off the island and get our truck back here.”
Wyatt grunted “Bennett’s already on it. But nothing is planned until after Christmas.”
Like a hesitant, cautious cat, Jagger stepped forward, arms out. “Merry Christmas, Raina.” Then he wrapped his arms around me in the most awkward hug of my life.
I patted his back, and gave my cousin a weird look.
When he pulled away, he could tell that whole exchange had been really fucking weird.
But he was also way better at recovering from this kind of thing than I was, and he simply flashed me another one of those way too perfect, sexy-as-fuck smiles. “Thanks for not killing me in my sleep. I appreciate it.”
Damn him. Damn his smile. Damn his beard, and his lips, and his eyes. Damn all of him.
I rolled my eyes, even though my face probably had literal flames flying off it, and shook my head before one corner of my mouth tipped up. “You’re welcome. And thank you for … chopping wood so we didn’t all freeze to death.”
Now his smile was even bigger. Even sexier.
Damn him entirely.
Ugh.
“You’re welcome. I guess I’ll be … seeing you around. We’re still rivals, but hopefully no longer … enemies?” His brows lifted.
“We’re going to beat your ass at the land proposal. We’ll get Bonn Remmen’s land, you’ll see.”
Wyatt chuckled, and he slapped Jagger on the back, encouraging him to get a move on.
“Challenge accepted,” Jagger said with a nod as he turned to go. “I look forward to mopping the floor with you, Raina Aaronson.”
“We’ll see about that, Jagger McEvoy.”
Then he turned around and started to walk away, his ass looking way too fine in those sweatpants he practically lived in for the last few days. And fuck if he didn’t turn around and cause my panties to flood with the crooked, wicked smile he tossed at me over his shoulder.
Damn him to eternity.