Jack & Jilted Read Online Free

did not move from her waist until she was on the deck itself.
    “Not used to boats, huh?” he said, stepping easily off the walkway and onto the deck as if it were rock-solid concrete instead of the shifting surface of a water-bound vessel.
    “No,” she admitted. “But I’ve always loved the ocean, which is why Gerald…”
    Just the name caused a pang.
    “Now, now, enough of that,” he said, and he rubbed her shoulder absently, which made her feel both embarrassed and thankful. “Why don’t I show you to your cabin?”
    “That’d be great,” she said. She followed him cautiously, still getting used to that swaying motion beneath her feet. As soon as she made it to her cabin, she was taking these dumb shoes off. She sent Jack an apologetic smile when he realized she was lagging, and he slowed down to accommodate her.
    The ship itself was pretty, she noticed as she walked. She was no expert, but the wood looked like something expensive—teak maybe. They used teak on boats, didn’t they? And the lines were clean. There were all kinds of nautical doodads that seemed well-worn but not unsafe. She went down the steps carefully, going along the claustrophobic hallway.
    “The galley’s over here,” he said, pointing to a door, “and the crew’s cabins are here…and here we are, your cabin.”
    He opened a door and she peeked in.
    It was smaller than she’d expected. And it was mostly bed.
    “There’s the bathroom.” He pointed to a closet-sized room. “There’s a shower and everything else you’ll need. It’s pretty straightforward.”
    She nodded absently, although she couldn’t take her eyes off the bed. It was huge, considering the room. Two people would probably have to be close to be comfortable. Which was probably the whole idea, she clued in, with a growing sense of sadness. There was what looked like a down comforter and some luxurious sheets. Satin maybe? Whatever they were, it was cream-colored and decadent. She’d likely be swimming in the things, slipping and sliding as the ship continued to sway.
    “There are drawers here,” he said, opening some hidden compartments. “And you can put your bag under your bed, here.”
    “Right,” she murmured, barely paying attention. The lights were on a dimmer switch—they were low and romantic. There was a CD player, no doubt anchored to the headboard. She saw a collection of CDs in a built-in cabinet, all slow love songs or soulful ballads. She bit her lip, fighting tears.
    “And if you’ll look carefully,” Jack continued, “right here, by the portal, is a button that operates our time machine. You don’t want to hit that accidentally.”
    “You got it,” she said, then she shook her head, startled. “I’m sorry. What was that?”
    “Just seeing if you were still with me,” he said, leaning toward her to look into her eyes. “You doin’ okay?”
    “Yes. Sure. I mean…” She made a vague gesture with her hands. In the context of what she’d been through the last few hours, she was okay. But for any other day of her life?
    “No,” she admitted. “I’m not doing okay.”
    He sighed heavily, the big inhalation making his chest seem huge in the close quarters. She found herself sitting on the bed, which put her almost eye level with his belt buckle. She craned her head upward to stare at him. To her surprise, he sat down next to her. At least it wasn’t a water bed, she thought inanely, although the idea of a water bed on a boat struck her as redundantly funny. She smiled weakly at her own joke.
    “I know I kind of talked you into this,” he said slowly. “You don’t have to come out on the boat if you don’t want to. I mean, if you’ve got family you’d rather be with or something…I know this has got to be a rough patch.” He winced. “Let me rephrase that. Rough patch doesn’t even cover it. Hell, I don’t even know how to say it.”
    “Neither do I,” she said, realizing that fact. “I feel more numb than