Page 37 of His Secret Gift

He then flicks his mustache. “Okay, I apologize. I thought I was doing right by you.”

I pat him on the shoulder. “I know. And I do appreciate that. But I don’t want anyone on this ship to fear me.” Truth is, I don’t want her to.

Oh, god.I know I’m falling into old traps. I know it, but I can’t stop myself either.

“Jack?” Bryant says like it wasn’t the first time he tried to get my attention.

Shaking my head clear, I excuse myself.

It doesn’t help that she just so happens to walk past. Her light hair bouncing up and down in a ponytail as she walks.

When she notices me, she stops, grins sweetly, and waves.

I raise my hand but then put it back down and look away.

Jesus Christ.I lean against a nearby surface and rub at my lips.I’m in trouble.

Chapter 12

Past Mistakes – Jack

Ihave successfully avoided Kayla for a few days, but when I run out of her miracle sleeping potion, I know I must find and face her again tonight.

Thankfully, she’s on the main deck, enjoying a glass of red wine. Her hair is down and blowing around wildly.

I walk over and clear my throat to make her aware of my presence.

When she notices me, she stands before me glancing down and tidying her hair and casual clothes, which look more like pajama shorts and a white hoodie. “Mr. Shelley.”

“How are you doing today, Kayla?” From her stained lips and slurred speech, I can tell she’s rather enjoying herself.

She looks around. “Since you started this conversation, I am allowed to talk to you, right?”

Ugh.I frown. I thought I asked Bryant to take care of that.

“I—”

“Everyone says I shouldn’t just talk to you unless you talk to me first,” she shrugs. “Probably has something to do with that Harper girl.”

I blow out a breath, watching as Kayla’s eyes widen and her face reads “I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

No, she shouldn’t have. But it’s a fair comment to make.

As we stand there, the night air cooling our skin, Kayla hesitates before asking, “Jack, if you hadn’t gotten that phone call, would you have kissed me?”

Her question makes even more goosebumps spread on my skin. I also know she likely wouldn’t be asking me if her inhibitions weren’t down due to the wine.

“It doesn’t feel like the right time to have that conversation, Kayla,” I reply, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism. But as I look at her, her eyes glistening with vulnerability and playful curiosity, I know that I would have kissed her—if only I hadn’t stopped myself.

She nods, seeming to understand the unspoken implications.

Then, after taking a sharp inhale, I say, “As far as the whole Harper thing goes… curiosity killed the cat.” Again, I can’t blame her for asking about my past.

Saying my exe’s name still gives me the heebie jeebies. But I want to keep things light between Kayla and me.

Though, in her presence, my heart is pounding, and I can feel the magnetic pull between us growing stronger. It’s dangerous and exhilarating, and I don’t know what to do with these feelings.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a cat,” she retorts, laughing and snorting again. She then leans against the railing, her eyes never leaving mine, as if daring me to take a step closer, to cross that line between boss and employee, desire and restraint.

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