Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
Like you hung the moon
Patrick
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” She scrambles upright, knee cracking against my desk hard enough to make me wince.
“Georgie, it’s okay.” I reach for her, but she’s already yanking her dress down with shaking hands.
“Okay?” Her voice hits a pitch that could break glass.
I’m still coming down from what just happened between us. My body feels heavy, sated. But she’s spiraling, and I need to fix this. Now.
“I’m going to be sick,” she says, pressing her hand to her mouth. “Actually physically sick. How long was it on? When did it turn on?”
“It can’t have been long.” The lie rolls off my tongue easily, even as my mind races through worst-case scenarios. “My staff would have cut the connection right away.”
I hope that’s true. My entire body is still humming from what we just did, but my brain’s catching up to the catastrophe. The fucking intercom.
“They heard me.” She’s gone pale. “They heard me making those sounds. Mary heard. The kitchen staff heard. Jake. Oh my god, Jake.”
I grab her shoulders gently, trying to ground her. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“Everyone knows,” she whispers, eyes wild. “Everyone knows about us. About what we just... oh my god.”
“Georgie, look at me.” I cup her face, forcing her to make eye contact. She’s trembling so much I can feel it in my palms. “It’s going to be fine.”
“Fine? Patrick, we just broadcast—” Her voice breaks completely.
“Listen to me.” I keep my voice steady, even though my own pulse is hammering. “No one will know it’s you. Half the women here tonight are English. Your reputation’s protected. And it wasn’t on long. It probably just caught us talking about Jake.”
“Jake.” Her face crumples. “I can never leave this room. I’ll have to live under your desk forever.”
Despite everything, my mouth twitches. Even mid-panic, she’s endearing.
“You’re not living under my desk.” I pull her against me, feeling her heart racing against my chest. “Though I wouldn’t mind keeping you there,” I add, attempting lightness.
She makes a sound between a laugh and a sob.
“Why do you even have a dumb intercom system? Who even uses intercoms anymore? Hotels have radios, mobile apps, Slack channels—literally anything but a button that broadcasts to the entire fucking building.” She shakes her head angrily. “It’s always old tech that comes back to bite me in the ass.”
“Listen, all people heard were two voices.” I stroke her back, trying to calm her down. “They won’t be able to figure out it’s you.”
“We joked about Jake walking in,” she whimpers against my chest.
I grimace, jaw tightening. Thank fuck she can’t see my face right now.
“Let’s find him,” I say. “Deal with this head-on.”
We step into the hall. Empty, thank Christ.
Then footsteps come heavy and fast.
Jake rounds the corner, and I see it all play out on his face in real time. Confusion, recognition, then pure rage. His eyes go from her disheveled dress to my wrinkled shirt to the way we’re standing too close. His fists clench.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Tell me that isn’t what I heard?”
“Jake—” I start.
“That’s my fucking sister, Patrick. Jesus Christ.”
“Jake, stop!” Georgie’s voice cracks. “I’m not a child anymore. This isn’t your business.”
“Not my business?” He glares at her. “After the last time?”
Two strides, and he’s chest to chest with me. “You fucking prick.”
Every instinct tells me to push back, to stand my ground. But I don’t. Because he’s right. I’ve broken his trust in the worst way.
Georgie wedges herself between us, her small hands pressing against Jake’s chest. She’s so much smaller than both of us. “Jake, stop! Please, this isn’t what you think.”
“It’s exactly what I think,” he snaps, glaring at me over her head. “Patrick’s been screwing my sister like she’s some random hookup.”
“She’s not,” I say.
“She’s not what? Not your much younger employee? Not my sister?”
The age gap isn’t that big, but the fact that she works for me is real. That imbalance is real.
“Get your hands off her,” he growls.
I realize my hand’s still on her lower back. I lift it slowly, carefully, like I’m surrendering a weapon.
This is the disaster I wanted to avoid.
“Let’s take this outside. Away from my sister.” Jake steps back but keeps his stare locked on me. “Now.”
Georgie’s head snaps between us. “Outside? Are you serious? You can’t just fight him. This isn’t a pub brawl. Please. You guys are best friends! You’ve been friends for years.”
“It’s alright,” I say softly.
Whatever’s coming, whether it’s words or fists or both, I’m ready for it.
Jake glances at his sister. “Stay here.”
“This is insane.” Tears roll down her cheeks. She tries to wipe them away, but more keep coming. “Don’t do this. I’m not some damsel who needs defending. I’m a grown woman who made a choice.”
I catch her gaze, my chest tightening at how devastated she looks. “Georgie, stay here. Please. Let me sort this with Jake.”
She shakes her head, muttering something that sounds like “idiots” under her breath.
We storm out of the hotel in silence. My shirt’s still half-untucked. Jake’s ahead of me, shoulders rigid, fists still clenched at his sides.
We cross the drive to the quiet lawns, far enough from the hotel that no one will hear whatever’s about to happen.
He stops. Turns.
I can see it in his stance, the way he’s shifting his weight, rolling his shoulders back. He’s going to swing.
“If you’re going to hit me, just get it over with.”
His fist connects with my jaw. White pain flares, and my head snaps back. I spit blood into the grass and test the hinge of my jaw until it moves again.
This isn’t the Jake I’ve known for ten years. He’s not a man who throws punches.
“Feel better?” I rasp, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
“What the fuck are you playing at?” He breathes hard, shaking out his fist. “You’re meant to be her boss. My mate. Not another asshole with power over her.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Bullshit.” He paces a few steps, then spins back. “You know exactly what it’s like. You hold her career in your hands. My sister isn’t a fling for when you’re bored. Are you fucking other people while you’re sleeping with her?”
“I’m only seeing her.”
His eyes narrow. “Maren?”
“I haven’t been with anyone else since Georgie.”
“You’re a fucking dick.” He drags his hands through his hair, looking like he’s deciding whether to swing again. “I told you how vulnerable she was. You saw how wrecked she was after uni.”
“Jesus, Jake, I’m not some random guy she met at a party who’s gonna use her and toss her aside.”
“You’re not different,” he snaps. “Same power dynamic. Same bloody imbalance.”
I frown. “What power dynamic? I know it fucked her up, but I’m not some twenty-year-old student who—”
“What?” He stares at me. “You think he was a student?”
I frown. “Wasn’t he?”
“No. He was her tutor.”
The word doesn’t land at first. It just sits there.
“Her... what?”
“Her tutor. Thirty years old. Had authority over her grades, her academic future. She was twenty when it started.” Jake’s jaw clenches. “Sound familiar? He had influence at the university and made her life hell after she finally left him. She ended up dropping out because of him.”
I thought he was just a guy her own age. A university boyfriend who didn’t treat her right.
“I thought he was a student.”
“No.” He grimaces, looking away. “He wasn’t.”
The parallels slam into me. Age gap. Authority. Power imbalance. I’m trying to convince myself I’m not a predator, and just the fact that I have to say it makes me sick. “I’m not trying to take advantage of her.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing? What’s your plan here? You going to commit to her? Or is this just while you’re here playing Highland laird?” He shakes his head, glaring at me. “You could’ve had any other woman on the island.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s exactly that simple. Either you see a future or you’re just having fun. Which is it?”
My jaw tightens. I don’t have an answer.
“I sat with her while she cried herself to sleep for months. And now it’s you. Another older man with power over her. And she looks at you like you hung the bloody moon.”
That hits harder than his punch because I’ve seen the way her eyes light up when she looks at me. I’ve soaked it in. Let myself believe I deserved it, when all I’ve done is prove I haven’t.
“You took advantage of the fact my sister has you on a pedestal.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Fuck off,” Jake snaps. “She’s had a crush on you since she was sixteen. I’m not blind. I just didn’t think you’d act on it.”
Damn. Every look, every smile from when she was sixteen suddenly means something different. Maybe I am just another older bastard leaning on the imbalance. Same sin, different package.
Every instinct tells me to defend what Georgie and I have. But standing here, seeing the pain in his eyes, I can’t ignore the truth staring back at me.
I keep telling myself I care for her. But if I strip it bare, it wasn’t for her. I wanted her. I took her. I touched her because I couldn’t stop myself. Every line I drew, I crossed when it suited me. That isn’t care. That’s selfishness.
“Can you give her what she needs?” Jake glares at me. “Stability. Safety. A man who won’t drop her the second something shinier comes along. Because if you can’t promise that, then end it now before you destroy what’s left of her confidence.”
Stability? I disappear into the wilderness whenever I want.
Safety? I’ve already broadcast her to half the hotel.
A man who won’t leave? My longest relationship was in my twenties.
I’m thirty-five and still running from anything that looks like commitment. Still choosing ice walls over dinner tables.
The truth twists in my gut: I don’t have a plan. Never did. Just this relentless need for her that overrides every logical reason to stay away.
She needs someone who’ll be there for Sunday mornings and Wednesday dinners. Someone who answers his phone instead of being unreachable on a glacier. Someone whose five-year plan involves mortgages and school districts, not which mountain to summit next.
The last thing she needs is a workaholic who disappears into the Arctic Circle at a moment’s notice. Who can’t promise to be in the same country next winter.
Even without Jake here, we were always headed for this cliff. She’s twenty-five, just starting to figure out her life. I’m thirty-five with my life exactly how I want it: alone, unencumbered, free to leave whenever.
When I kissed her, none of that mattered. I lost myself in her. I let myself forget we’re at completely different stages of life. That she deserves someone who can give her everything instead of whatever scraps I’m willing to spare between expeditions.
The signs were there. Her asking where this was going. Testing waters I pretended not to see because it was easier to focus on the moment. To take what I wanted and worry about the aftermath later.
The truth is, even if Jake gave this his blessing, even if there were no professional complications, we’d still be incompatible. I’d still be the older guy who can’t commit, and she’d still be the young woman who deserves someone who can.