Page 50 of Redemption

Iglanced up from the navigation chart at the sound of Sloan’s cabin door opening. Sloan and I were supposed to spend the morning troubleshooting the filter system. But if the motor continued to have issues like it had yesterday, I wanted to have some alternate routes in mind.

Sloan and I had gone sailing in the past but never in rougher conditions like we’d faced yesterday. Through it all, Sloan had been calm and confident, in command. It was sexy as fuck. Watching her ride the waves as if she were on top of the world. As if she were free.

“Morning.”

She groaned. “Morning.”

“Feeling a little rum-punched,” I teased, trying to focus on the chart instead of Sloan’s bare legs.

“Har. Har.” She squinted then sank down on the chair across from me. “That stuff was stronger than I realized.”

I reached over to the galley, grabbing the plate I’d prepared for her. “Here.” I set it on the table in front of her. I wondered what she remembered from last night, but I didn’t ask.

I’d nearly kissed her. Several times. Fuck.

“Thank you. And thanks for last night.”

I lifted a shoulder. “It’s my job.”

Her expression fell briefly, and I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. I hadn’t meant it like that. Yes, I was being paid to be here, but I wanted to take care of her. And not just because I was her bodyguard. Because I was her friend.

Right. Her friend. Even I didn’t believe that.

I could never be just her friend. Sloan had always… I blew out a breath. I’d never imagined myself with anyone but her.

“This looks delicious.” She surveyed the plate of toast, eggs, and bacon. “Thank you.”

She took a few bites and groaned, dropping the fork to the plate. “Oh my god. This is so good, I could kiss you.” She stilled. “I, um…”

I reached out to wipe a crumb from the corner of her mouth but then stopped myself. “I know.” You have a boyfriend. I cleared my throat. “How’s your side?”

A boyfriend who wasn’t here, though I still didn’t understand why. Maybe he couldn’t be away for two months, but he could’ve joined her for part of it. I would’ve if we were together.

She touched her side gently. “A little better.”

“I’m glad, but there’s no rush. We can stay as long as you need.”

She stood. “If we can get the fuel supply line sorted, I think we should push on.”

“Okay,” I said, trusting that she could make the best decision for herself. “But if we’re heading out today, I don’t want to leave much later than ten.”

“Agreed.”

Sloan washed up, and we headed below deck. We spent the rest of the morning removing the filter housing and replacing it with a new system. I didn’t see any signs that it had been tampered with, and that was a relief. Sloan did most of the repair, while I assisted. She made it look easy even when I knew it wasn’t, and I was in awe of her.

“Look at that.” Sloan smiled, dusting off her hands. “It’s nine thirty.”

“Look at that.” I smirked, wishing I could fix our relationship as easily as we had the filter system.

That said, for the first time since we’d left Miami, I felt hopeful. For the first time, we were united.

It wasn’t long before we were casting off. Our voyage to Pittstown Point was mostly uneventful. I still had concerns about the fuel supply line, but the only way to test our current “solution,” if you could call it that, was to run the motor for long periods of time. So that’s what we’d done.

Sloan planned to have the boat evaluated once we reached Turks and Caicos. My guess was that there had been a leak in the filter housing or coalescer, but we wanted a mechanic to look at it for both our peace of mind.

I wasn’t naïve enough to consider it—or our relationship—fixed, but we’d encountered no issues since. And that was certainly an improvement. Our tentative friendship was also an improvement.

“We should reach Plana Cays today,” I said after she’d emerged from the bathroom the following morning. Her hair was freshly braided, and the smell of sunshine and wild roses clung to her.

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