Page 107 of Bewitched By the Sea Monster
Rage peeled off him in big, hot, lashing waves. They struck me harder than his body had—hard enough to have me flopping back into the doorway.
Jackson never turned his eyes to me. He strode toward our bedroom, peeling his shirt over his head.
I followed him. Numbly.
“You can shower after me,” he snapped. “And you need to be ready to leave by 10:00 a.m.”
“I…” The words choked me. There were too many spiraling up my throat too fast for my brain to process. “W-w-w-we...”
Goodness, is this how Alistair feels when trying to speak?
Poor thing.
I cleared my throat, knocking the words loose, and swallowing the ones I didn’t need. “Jackson,” I whispered, “can we talk?”
“The boat tour takes off at 11:00 a.m. Unless you’d rather sit that out as well?” Jackson shrugged out of his pants and stomped into the bathroom. Over the hiss and rattle of the shower starting, he added, “But I paid for two tickets. And they were pricey. And you’ve already cost me afortuneon this trip, so it would be nice if you could stop PMS-ing for the day and go on the boat tour with me.”
My gabbers were flasted. Thoroughly.
I couldn’t eventhinkstraight.
It took me several seconds to realize I’d left the front door wide open.
Several more to have the sense to close it.
He’d gonehiking?
Ate breakfast.
Booked a boat tour.
There’d been no concern from him when he’d seen me standing at the door. No remorse or worry. Just anger and annoyance.
He hadn’t cared where I was. Hadn’t paused to wonder why I was upset. He’d just carried on with his trip and expected me to “cool my heels” and go along with it.
He didn’t care.Maybe he never had.
And I’d feltguiltyfor going out with Alistair.
Now I hated that I’d felt guilty.
Hated myself for hating that I’d felt guilty.
What I’d done was wrong.
But Jackson…
Heat exploded over my skin, making me itch. And fume.
I stormed into the bathroom.
His towering shadow wriggled behind the thin shower curtain as he scrubbed at his hair.
I ripped the curtain aside.
“If you’re thinking of usingsexas an apology”—Jackson flicked shampoo out of his eyes—“you better get to your knees. I’m not interested inanythingelse.”
“We needto talk,” I snapped.
