29. Chicken Shit #2
His gaze trailed over her like hands and fingers, his smile reminding her of those lips on her skin and the things he’d whispered to her the night before.
Her face was flushed by the time he reached her, and her heart leaped to her throat as he hooked a hand on her waist, sat on the rail, and pulled her between his open knees.
She forgot about everything else as Jack leaned in close, his eyes hooded and his voice bedroom soft as he murmured, “You have chicken shit on your sleeve.”
A surprised laugh burst from her. “So romantic.”
“You didn’t let me finish.” His heady gaze moved to the bruise on her collarbone. “I was going to say you have chicken shit on your sleeve, so it’s probably best you remove your shirt.”
She pursed her lips with a thoughtful hum. “In front of everyone?”
“In private, of course.” His fingers pressed into the small of her back. “But if you insist on having an audience, I’ll happily recommend myself. I have a rapt attention and a hands-on approach.”
Her cheeks burned hotter. Jack’s grin widened, turning from seductive to thoroughly entertained.
“My word, you’re so easy to bother,” he said, his voice closer to normal. He swept a finger over her cheek. “Your face was halfway to red before I even touched you.”
She gave his shoulder a light shove, not hard enough to send him tumbling off the ship, but enough to make him hold on to her tighter. “Ruin me more, Jack, and I’ll blush less.”
His lips quirked in dissent. “I like your blush. And you’re not ruined. You never were.”
Gladness threaded around her heart. She brushed long strands of golden hair away from his face, moving her fingers through the soft locks until they reached the nape of his neck. “That’s not what I meant, but thank you.”
“I know. But since you’re mine, I resent any suggestion you’re less than worthy of the world, and I feel terribly compelled to defend you.
” He snapped his teeth at her wrist, and as soon as she dropped her hands, he said, “I saw you speaking with the captain. I’m surprised you let each other live. Was it a productive conversation?”
“I think we’re actually well on our way to friendship,” she said. “You never told me how amenable he is.”
A sardonic smirk. “What’d he want?”
“To welcome me to the family.”
“That didn’t look the least bit welcoming. Try again.”
With a laugh, she asked, “What do you think he said?”
“Fickle hearts,” he said without pause. “Youth.”
“And he doesn’t need to know what Robin told me about the map.” She shook her head, glad, at the very least, that she wasn’t the only one subjected to Copson’s judgment. “I don’t believe him.”
“I don’t either,” Jack agreed. “But I also wouldn’t put it past him to take us both for fools—”
“It’s unfair, ya know,” came a voice from behind Cecily. She looked over her shoulder to see Fiero standing no more than two paces away, his face twisted in fury.
He was the only one who hadn’t bothered to hide his contempt for what Jack had done the day before.
While the women had merely gone quiet and cast their gazes away from Cecily, Fiero was louder in his grief, bemoaning Morgyn’s absence short of calling it unfair—short of doing anything that might attract Copson’s wrath after Jack had justified the decision to be rid of her before everyone.
It seemed, however, that his wisdom was to be short lived.
“Don’t be a fool,” Jack warned. He shifted forward, stepping down off the rail.
“Nah,” Fiero said. “It ain’t fair, you flaunting your girl after you killed mine.”
Jack pushed past Cecily to stand before the pirate. Though the first mate was tall, Fiero still managed to dwarf him.
“I didn’t see you step in to save her,” Jack said. “You could have. At the very least, you might’ve encouraged her to jump and gone with her, and we would have released you gladly.”
“You would’a killed me if I’d stepped up,” Fiero grumbled. “Unfairly, just like Morgyn.”
“You’re an idiot,” Jack sneered. “Not only for not having listened to a word I said, but for challenging me on it.”
Fiero was shaking his head before he finished speaking, his gaze going to Cecily over the Jack’s shoulder. “She tried to kill Morgyn.”
“Not on this ship,” Jack said. Cecily had told him about her time in Bridewell, and how she’d attempted to murder Morgyn on that first day. But that had been the only time.
“Morgyn didn’t do anything to your girl on this ship either,” Fiero spat. “And I ain’t scared of no Copson boy, so I’ll kill your bitch, then I’ll come for you—”
A knife appeared in Cecily’s hand, but Fiero had already leaped away. One of Jack’s throwing knives was embedded in the deck, a finger’s breadth from where Fiero’s shoe had been.
“Don’t threaten me,” Jack said in a menacing hiss. “There’s no violence on this ship. If you start it, I’ll end it.”
Cecily flinched as Copson spoke from the helm. “Stand down, Fiero. I like you, but I won’t stop Jack from enforcing order.”
“Injustice ain’t order,” Fiero ground out, glaring at Cecily again.
Cecily leaned back against the rail, pulling on all the bravado her Copson name allowed her.
“You couldn’t kill me, Fiero,” she said, and it sounded like a taunt even if she didn’t mean it to be. “No one’s managed it, not even Jack. Like I told Morgyn, I’ll kill you first.”
Jack stiffened.
“Don’t be daft,” Copson called to the pirate. “Run along and cool off.”
With an angry huff, Fiero did as he was told, lumbering away to one of the lower decks.
Jack took a moment before he turned to her, but when he did, his shoulders were set and his eyes narrowed with censure.
“Defend me all you like Jack, but I won’t stop doing it myself,” she said before he could scold her. “You’re not going to be there every time someone threatens me. I can take a challenge. I’ve done it plenty.”
He pursed his lips, looked out at the ocean, then gave a resigned sigh. “Fine.”
Her brows lifted. “Really?” She had fully intended to argue with him about the merits of protecting herself in the best ways she knew how, even if it went against the articles.
His gaze remained hard. “Only self-defense, darling. If you kill him in his sleep, even I won’t be able to help you out of that.”
She folded her arms, thoughtful. “Perhaps you should consider putting something in the articles about threats. Seems to come up rather often.”
He wandered back to her side. “No one bothered to threaten me until I met you.”
She was unsurprised to hear him sound put-out about it.
“Then you should definitely make a few changes, since I’m staying for a good long time.
” She aimed for humor to lighten his mood—not because she wasn’t scared, but because she didn’t like it when he was.
“It’s bad luck to have a woman on board, don’t you know? ”
He hooked his arm around the back of her neck and pulled her into him, muttering, “Wear all your knives, all the time. Where I and everyone else can see them.”
There was no question that she would, especially as apprehension snuck down her spine. But she only gazed past him at the water and said, “I prefer it that way.”