Page 59
Story: Jett
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.
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.
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