Page 85 of Redemption

He dragged a hand over his head, his eyes focused on the ceiling. “I laid it all on the line last night. And I know the timing wasn’t ideal, but I just have to ask…is this a rebound for you?”

“What?” I propped myself up on my elbow. “Jackson. No.” I placed my hand on his chest, hoping he’d hear the sincerity in my tone. “This isn’t a rebound.”

“Then what is it?”

I gnawed on my lip, not wanting to ruin whatever this was. I ultimately settled on, “A…reconnection.”

He groaned. “That sounds even more vague.”

“I didn’t mean for it to sound vague. I guess I’m just still trying to process everything. I know that’s probably not what you want to hear. But it’s the truth.”

“I get it,” he said. “I do. And I’m not trying to pressure you, but I want you to know that I meant what I said last night.” He took my hand in his. “I want more. I’m willing to fight for more.”

Jackson wasn’t the same man as before. He was willing to fight for me. It was…it was a lot to take in. I had a lot to consider.

He’d been assigned to protect me temporarily. But he lived in Los Angeles and often traveled for work. I lived in London. Would he move? Expect me to?

I dragged a hand through my hair, watching a palm tree swaying through the windows. “What would that even look like?”

“Whatever we want it to,” he said.

Could it truly be that simple?

I shook my head. Why was I even considering this?

I’d spent a week with the man. One glorious week. I tried to tell myself that this was a fling, a consequence of being in such close quarters. But even I knew it was more than that. I couldn’t imagine many people spending every waking moment together, navigating all sorts of challenges on the Athena. We were a good team.

But that didn’t mean our relationship would hold up in the real world. We were living on island time. This was a vacation. Of course it was easy.

Or as easy as sailing the Thorny Path in a thirty-five-foot sailboat could be.

“Sloan.” He took my hand in his and held it over his sextant tattoo. Over his heart. “Do you want to know why I got this tattoo?”

“Because you like sailing?”

His eyes searched mine as if waiting for me to realize something. Some piece of the puzzle I was missing.

“Look closer.” He tapped his chest, and I leaned in.

Right on the horizon, worked in so subtly I’d missed it before, were the letters SEM in tiny print. My initials. I didn’t think that was a coincidence, but I wanted to hear the words from his mouth.

“It was around the time of Greer’s wedding, and I’d never felt so…lost. I got it because it reminded me of you. You’ve always had this…” He smiled. “Incredible urge to explore. To push yourself. When you put your mind to something—” he tucked my hair behind my ear, cupping my cheek “—you’re unstoppable.”

I smiled, both at his praise and because his words reminded me of the friendship bracelet Brooklyn had given me with “unstoppable” on it. But Jackson wasn’t done.

“As you know, the sextant is a symbol of orientation. A valuable navigation tool that will help guide you home. And I always hoped it would bring me home—to you.”

That was why my initials were inked on the horizon, tattooed over his heart.

“Jackson,” I whispered, a tear trailing down my face.

He’d done this. He’d branded his skin with a visible reminder of me that he’d carried with him for years. The words “I love you” sat on my tongue, begging to be spoken. But…they wouldn’t come out.

It wasn’t that I didn’t love him. I was scared.

“You don’t have to say anything.” He dried my tears with his thumbs. “I know you’re not ready. But I also need you to know that I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you.” Hearing him say that meant a lot to me. There was no pressure. No expectations. Just love.

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