Chapter 46
Forty-Six
Fraught murmurs echo from my recesses, likely trying to turn this ship around. But my ego shuts them up, confident we’ll—I’ll—prevail.
Despite knowing last night was a big deal, one that involves a conversation with Remy—at minimum—Jax and I are in good spirits.
We’ve just come from my new place, where I gave her a full tour, including to the private beach a short hike down the cliffside.
Now we’re at the marina boarding Seas the Day for a day of sunshine, boating, and hopefully more.
I mean, she already joked about giving me head…
but I’m treading lightly, understanding that a lot weighs on her mind.
She doesn’t need added pressure from me.
I press a kiss to her forehead then busy myself preparing for our departure—conducting safety and mechanical checks, ensuring life jackets and first aid are stowed, rolling up the vinyl cockpit windows, all the stuff that’s become second nature to me working at the boatyard.
I don’t take for granted my company trusts me with these very expensive vessels—and this one’s a real beauty.
I’m securing the lines when something flashes in my periphery, and I swivel in time to see Remy land on deck.
I bolt upright, forcing myself to relax as his steely gaze darts between Jax and me. “Hey, man.”
“What the fuck?” he snaps, assessing us warily.
“Exactly,” Jax repeats. “What the fuck, Remy?”
His stance deflates a smidge. “You didn’t give me a chance to explain. Instead, you tore out of there like an emotional psychopath—”
Oof. Wrong tact, brother.
“Are you serious right now?” she roars.
“Shit,” he mutters, staring at the ground. “Look, I know you think I cheated on you and—”
“Do you blame me?” Her hands fly into the air. “With your track record? Then I learn you’re being groomed to find a suitable future fucking wife because I’m—and I quote—‘a tramp’?”
With my feet planted, my gaze ping-pongs between them, poised to intervene if needed and taking steady breaths to keep my own shit together.
“My mom’s an asshole,” he admits. “I should have told you, but the whole charade was stupid and meant nothing to me. I couldn’t risk how you’d react. I figured you’d think the worst, and I’m right. You do.”
“You didn’t even defend me in front of your mother.” Her voice quivers. “And that hurts the most.”
“Jacqui,” he pleads. “I’m sorry. I fucked up.” Remy steps closer to her, and it’s torture standing here, watching this play out. Yet it must. “But tell me this…when it all went down, did you run right out here to Prince Charming?”
My throat tightens, my fingers flexing at my sides. Jacqui stiffens, not answering.
His tenor changes, quiet and tortured. “How long have you two been sleeping together?”
“Last night was the first time,” I answer. I’m not about to lie—or cower.
Jax drops to her knees and bursts into tears.
My thoughts crystalize. All I’m sure about—aside from loving Jacqueline Hall—is the need for us to shove off and deal with this situation in private.
“Take care of her,” I bark, striding away to finish casting off.
When I return to the cockpit, Remy’s cradling an inconsolable Jax on the bench seat, and I crank the engine, take the wheel, and guide the boat out of the marina.
My gaze flickers to them as I steer past the buoys.
My girl’s wracked with sobs, her shoulders shaking as she strains for air, her hands flying to her face as if to block us from seeing her distress.
It swiftly escalates, turning to hyperventilating.
The sight of her so distraught is fucking unacceptable.
“Calm her down,” I snap.
“I’m trying,” he says, clearly frazzled but also hangdog—and that’s a rare expression for him wear.
When we’re finally in open water, I take matters into my own hands. Literally.
“Take the helm,” I tell Remy. “Go straight.”
Once I have my girl in my arms, I stow my emotions and take control. “Jax, baby, listen to me. I need you to breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. We’re going to do it together.”
She makes some attempts but continues hyperventilating, her face soaked with tears.
“Breathe, baby, please.”
She manages a few shaky inhales, coughing through jagged breaths.
“That’s it. Try again,” I encourage, rubbing her back in long, soothing strokes.
More barbed inhalations lead to her exhaling easier and steadier, her tears finally abating as some semblance of relief sparks.
I hold her closer, speaking low in her ear. “Good girl.”
Her eyes search mine, seeking…reassurance? I’m unclear what’s going on in that pretty head of hers, only that she crashed hard and I’ll do anything to see her through whatever this is.
Her gaze swings to Remy, who’s got a death grip on the wheel. His eyes cast toward her, full of concern and…some level of pleading. He knows he fucked up.
But what the hell is she thinking? My nerves fray with all the uncertainty. After last night, I can’t go back to just friends. I can’t let her go again.
Stray hiccups erupt from Jax as her breathing steadies. Her head drops to my chest, and I press a tender kiss to her forehead, finding strength in merely holding her. “We’re going to work all this out,” I murmur.
She doesn’t answer, but I’m relieved when her body relaxes.
For a moment, I allow my mind to blank while I hold her and catch my own damn breath.
The groan of the boat’s engine pushes through the ocean, the salty air mixing with her citrus notes.
The flags snap sharply with the wind, sometimes lifting strands of her long hair.
Grounded by her nearness, it bolsters my resolve. With clarity and certainty, I’m ready to drop anchor and settle this shit—once and for all.
“You good?” I ask her.
She lifts her head and gives me a small nod, her brows knitting together, uncertainty etched in her features.
“I need to do some captaining now.” I flash her a smile, lift her gingerly off my lap, and take the wheel.
We’re in wide open water with no boats in sight. I kill the engine and head toward the bow. I release the chain, anchor the boat, and on my way back to the cockpit, snag a six-pack of beer from the stern’s bench cooler.
I pass one to Remy and another to Jax before sitting beside her. We’re quiet, casting furtive glances at each other as we drink the beers and smoke cigarettes, releasing an ounce of steam from the pressure cooker we’ve found ourselves in.
Clearing my throat gets their attention. “Let’s hash this shit out, away from prying eyes and ears. I suggest we all take a turn and say our peace.” My gaze lands on Remy, then Jax. “One way or another, we’re not leaving this fucking boat until we’re cool.”
Remy nods. “You going first, Mr. Feelings?”
“Sure will, douchebag.” I sling an arm across the seat, shake the hair off my face, and pull zero punches.
“I love her.” I take Jacqui’s hand in mine, our eyes clashing with emotion.
“I love you, Jax, and I’m not willing to go back to the way it was.
I’m aware I’ve done some shitty things since we met.
I was only trying to protect you, but I hurt you in the process and never want to be responsible for doing that again. ”
I release a pent-up breath and turn to my best friend. “I love you like a brother, and I don’t mean to hurt you either, or be a dick, but this is how I fucking feel, so you’re going to have to deal with it.”
Jacqui squeezes my hand—and my heart gallops in my chest. The tension roils like whitewater, and we’re headed straight for capsizing rapids.
Remy shakes his head, eyes darting between us. “Well, that’s great. Where does that leave me? I love her too.” He scrubs his eyes. “I knew this was going to happen the minute we tried to make this ‘we can all be friends’ bullshit work.”
Jax reaches over and grasps Remy’s hand—now she’s holding both of our hands, connecting us all together, even if tenuously.
“Jacqui, I don’t give two shits what my parents want,” he says. “I want you. I love you.”
Fuck.
“What about your trust fund? You’re not going to just throw it all away,” she says.
He swishes a hand in the air. “That’ll shake out over time. This won’t. What we have is better than anything I’ve ever experienced. You can’t deny our chemistry—or how we click on every level.”
Double fuck. Does she want Remy? More than me?
There’s a pulsing silence, aside from the snapping flags and lapping waves, the faint roar in my own ears, and my heart splintering.
“What do you want, Jacqui?” I finally ask.
She glances between us, eyes pleading. “I love both of you,” she whispers.
My hand falls from hers, my hope spiraling to the ground, my muscles flexing before turning rigid.
“With my whole heart,” she continues, her gaze shifting from Remy to me.
“You changed my life, forever altered it, and my heart beats more for the two of you than it does for myself. I’ve never felt so loved or cherished by anyone than I have by you.
But don’t ask me to choose.” She falters, and my breath suspends, unsure where this is going.
“Because I choose us. I know that’s selfish and unreasonable and probably hideous from your point of view, but it’s the truth. We started out as friends. Became lovers. But it’s the love we have for each other that makes choosing one untenable—and unforgivable.”
I cock my head, trying to grasp her meaning.
“I’d give my life for yours any day. I can never repay what you’ve given me, which is belonging. Acceptance. Adoration. Love.” Her eyes shimmer, and I’m going to lose it if she cries again. I won’t be responsible for that happening. “You guys are my family…and I don’t want to lose you.”
No one speaks as we come to grips with what sure seems like a no-win situation.
Remy strokes his jaw. “Wait, are you saying…”
“You want us to share you?” I finish.
Jax blinks nervously. “Um…that’s not what I meant.”
“Sounds like a potential solution to me,” Remy says, flicking his cigarette butt overboard. His actions come across nonchalant, but something in his tone remains wary.
My head snaps his direction.
“Can you share, Callahan?” he asks.
Goddamn it. Can I? Must I? No. I can’t. Fuck that. Fuck this entire fucking mess.
But fuck me…because it’s my fault I lost her in the first place.
It’s my fault this is our reality. And…shit.
The truth stares me in the face. Cold, clear, undeniable.
We’ve already been sharing. For months. And if I don’t want to lose Jax, then I’m forced to accept it.
Embrace it, even. I squeeze my eyes shut, searching for any loophole, any thread to pull to unravel this outcome, any fucking something to help me deal with this.
And then it emerges. A tiny thought, an ember in the fire really, that reminds me who Remy is. I know him better than he probably knows himself and with that, I understand he’ll never go the distance. He never does. But I will. Jax will be mine one day. Only mine. And I won’t blow that chance.
Reassured by that unmitigated logic, I answer. “We’ve already been sharing, asshole. Now it would just be completely out in the open.”
“Jacqui?” Remy says. “You on board?”
Her golden eyes turn to me, searching, asking, wanting reassurance.
That this is going to work? That it won’t ruin us?
How the fuck can I be sure about anything?
The facts don’t lie, nor can they be changed.
She’s been intimate with us both. She loves us both.
And we both love her. We will all avoid hurt feelings if this relationship construct is transparent.
Not knowing what else I can do, how to change the trajectory of this course, and desperate to keep her in any capacity, I dip my head.
Relief washes over her expression. “Yes,” she breathes.