Page 68

What had he been trying to accomplish? He’d said he wanted to discover my identity, but seriously?

“The good news is that we have plenty of food and water. And the weather is fair,” Jackson said, making me wonder just how much of the conversation I’d missed.

Sloan yawned again, and Kendall stood. “Why don’t I show everyone to their rooms. For anyone who’s not ready to go to bed yet, we’ll have games and drinks.”

Brooklyn shot up from her seat. “I want to stay up!”

“For a little bit,” Emerson said.

“Em.” Kendall chewed on her lip. “Why don’t you and Nate take a twin cabin since it has a queen bed and the bunks.”

Emerson stood. “Great. Thanks.”

“Jasper, you’ll have the other twin cabin.”

He sliced a hand through the air. “That’s fine.”

“Sloan and Jackson can take the double.”

“Come on,hayati,”Jackson said, standing and holding out his hand for her.

I wondered what the nickname meant. I wasn’t even sure I knew what language it was in, but it had to be better thanmon petit poisson.I mean, seriously? The French had someinterestingterms of endearment, but I didn’t want to be referred to as a little fish.

Did Graham think I smelled bad?

That my actions were fishy?

Why did he continue to insist on calling me that? And especially in front of his family? It was mortifying. Not to mention ironic in light of the things I’d discovered about him lately—lying, scamming, fraud, secrets, hacking. I’d worked closely with the man for a year, but I was beginning to wonder if I knew my husband at all.

Sloan smiled and stood. “Good night.” Everyone wished them goodnight, and she gave Brooklyn a hug before heading downstairs.

“And that leaves Lily and Graham. Come on.” Kendall looped her arm through mine. “I’ll take you to your cabin.”

I followed her down the stairs. This whole excursion would’ve provided perfect material for my blog. My blog that had been hacked by my fake husband. I bit the inside of my cheek, desperate to hold back all the thoughts waiting to burst forth about my blog and Graham and everything else.

“And here you two are,” Kendall said, opening the door to a guest room.

The cabin was beautiful and luxurious. My eyes scanned the wall of large windows, the small built-in desk and chair, the backlit headboard, finally landing on the bed. And then it registered—there was only one bed.

Merde.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

One bed. There’s only one bed?

I glanced over my shoulder at Graham. The look of panic in his eyes mirrored my own.

“Is something wrong?” Kendall asked. “I mean…besides the obvious fact that we’re stranded out here until someone can tow us in.” She dropped her head in resignation. “I cannot believe the propeller is stuck.”

Me either.But none of this was her fault, so I rushed to reassure her. “We’re fine. And this is lovely.” I elbowed Graham. Apart from the kiss on deck earlier, it was almost as if he just expected me to take the lead in every interaction with his family.

He grunted, then said, “Yes. Thank you.”

Kendall left us to settle in. The door to the cabin shut with an audible click, and the space felt too small for the two of us. This wassonot happening. We were not going to be trapped in a cabin on a boat with only one bed.

Graham walked toward the walls, feeling along them, searching for something. Meanwhile, I felt as if they were closing in on me.

“What are you doing?” I asked, unable to keep the bite from my tone. My anger needed an outlet. Otherwise, I might explode.