Keeping Jahleel (Loving All Wrong #1.5) (11 page)

I had absolutely no clue what was happening. Why everyone seemed so shocked. I felt Mrs. Kingston sidle up next to me.

Too-Pretty Trey closed his mouth, then opened it again, then cleared his throat, finally answering, “Of course not. I’m a man of God; I have no time for such frivolousness.”

Jahleel reached over to the fruit basket on the table and plucked up a handful of grapes, popping one into his mouth. “Well, you might as well have been the one behind it. That schmuck’s making a killin’ at eighty-five bucks a cap.”

Schmuck?
Since when did this bloke use words like
schmuck
? Ah, his parents were here. The mouth filter was on.

Sitting up straighter in his seat, looking eager to converse with his brother, Too-Pretty Trey put in, “You can find and sue whoever it is, you know. This is illegal.”

Popping another grape in his mouth, Jahleel shrugged. “If I cared, yeah, I probably would. But for all I know, the person behind this has a family member suffering from some terminable illness and they need the cash. And if my name can help them make a few quick bucks, I don’t really care.”

He turned and tried to take the cap off Claire’s head, but she squealed in protest and clung to it. “No, Daddy! I’m you’re babe, remember?”

We all laughed at this while Jahleel left the cap on and told her, “Sure, bad girl.”

Retrieving his wallet from his back pocket, he withdrew a hundred dollar bill and passed it to Krissy. “Fifty bucks. No way am I payin’ ninety-five bucks for that.”

Krissy snatched the bill from him, stretching it between her fingers. “It doesn’t really matter, hot stuff. Because the change is mine, too.”

“You just got married to a billionaire and you’re still tryna rip me off?”

“Every dollar counts,” she sang, waving the bill in his face before stuffing it in her pocket.

“Where’s your mogul anyway?”

His question came easily, with no hint of underlying jealousy, nothing like he was still in lust with her. And that gave me renewed assurance. What he’d felt for Krissy was now a thing of the past. I was his future.

I met his parents, they liked me, and I was fucking delirious with happiness. Everything was going to be alright. Bob Marley said so.

“He’s in Korea,” Krissy replied. “He said he won’t able to make it today…”

No longer threatened, I blocked out their conversation and turned to Mrs. Kingston, who was smiling from ear to ear as she stared at her son.

“What was all that about with Trey?” I pried.

Without taking her glossy eyes off Jahleel, she replied, “Since he was eleven, he has never spoken a single word to Trey. He fully excluded Trey from his life and pretended he didn’t exist. Until now…”

“Oh,” was all I could think to say.

Shifting her gaze to me now, she whispered, “Like I said,
thank you
.”

This woman thought I saved her son, when in fact,
he
was the one who saved me. From death.

If she only knew.

A couple of hours later, I was more relaxed than I’ve been in a long while. Everyone was getting along so well that the breakfast cruise turned in to lunch cruise also.

Well, everyone except Krissy, of course. She made the effort to steer clear of me without making their parents any wiser. Not a word to me.

Fine by me. Didn’t faze me at all. As long as we were both clear on who Jahleel belonged to. Besides, I was sure she wouldn’t want her parents to know of the incestuous affair that went down with them.

Jahleel’s parents were indeed the nicest people I’d ever met. One would expect them to be judgmental and uppity, but they weren’t. They just accepted me as I was. And the conversations, surprisingly, never once steered to religion. They were simply ordinary people who talked and laughed about ordinary things. No Jesus-died-on-the-cross or repent-before-it’s-too-late conversations at all.

The cruise had simmered down to a calm ease, and we were all replete and torpid from the copious amount of food we’d eaten. Claire was fast asleep on my lap, and Jahleel was in a deep conversation with his brother whom he reportedly hadn’t spoken to since he was eleven. I jotted down a mental reminder to ask him about that.

“Why don’t you go set her down in one of the rooms?” Mrs. Kingston suggested, pointing to Claire.

“
That
is actually a great idea,” I said, laughing. “Because my arms killing me. She’s a lot heavier than she looks.”

“Oh, tell me about,” Mr. Kingston pitches in. “And just she loves to nag at people to lift her up.”

Smiling, I peered down at her and gently brushed away a wisp of her brown hair that escaped her loose pigtails, hanging down the side of her face. Her long lashes whispered against her cheek, her little chest rising and falling as she breathed a tad laboriously with a slight wheeze.

I’d learned from her father that she was troubled with asthma, and that her harshest attack was when he’d rushed to the hospital the night we were out in the gazebo.

Her hair was as rich, healthy, and perfect as Jahleel’s, and not a single feature on her face wasn’t from him.

I think I was falling in love with her.

Jahleel once told me he wanted our daughter to look like me. But I sent a little invocation up to God that our daughter, like Claire here, would be the spitting image of him. Our sons, too.

In the looks department, he won by a mighty long shot.

My fiancé was a fucking fireman. Not a fireman who
outs
fire. But a flaming fireman who was
on
fire.

Realizing I’d gotten carried away with my thoughts mid-conversation with the Kingstons while staring down at Claire, I glanced up and found Mr. and Mrs. Kingston watching me watch Claire.

Mumbling an “excuse me,” I stood up awkwardly with Claire and went down to the lower deck to find a room.

Navigating into the first bedroom in sight, I relieved myself of the weighty little girl, setting her down on the narrow bed inside.

Claire mumbled something about wanting to swing the jungle gym with Brian—whoever that was—as she rolled over and curled up in fetus form, her thumb going straight into her mouth.

I smiled big at that, because her thumb sucking reminded me of my sister, Timberly, when she was younger.

Yep, I was definitely falling in love with her. But her mother despised me.

Eh, who cares, right?

As I toed off my sandals and made to lay down beside Claire to steal a catnap before going back outside, Krissy came into the room, making an effort to close the door without a sound.

What now?

This girl has caused me much misery, and if she came in here to push me further, it was going to get ugly, I swear to God, because I wasn’t running this time.

As Bitchy Sassy opened her mouth, Krissy’s hands shot up as she said, “I just wanna
talk
to you, okay?”

Her voice was hushed. Either she didn’t want to wake Claire or she didn’t want the others to hear us.

Arms folding across my chest, I waited. Attitude in effect. Ready to put up a fight. Her and her best friend has caused enough damage already.

“The reason why I haven’t said anything to you since you came is because JK warned me to steer clear of you. He was serious. And he’s rarely that threatening with me. So I avoided you.”

“Have you?” I asked sardonically. “You’re here in front me, aren’t you?”

“That’s because I think this is stupid and juvenile!” she hissed. “You’re getting
married
to my brother—which, by the way, means you’re gonna be my sister—and I’m not supposed to talk to you? You’re grown. I’m grown. I’m not gonna dance around you all the time like we’re flipping sophomores.”

“I’m getting married to your
ink
brother,” I reminded her. “We’ll never be bloody sisters. You’re a manipulative and selfish bitch. Just like you knew exactly what you were doing when you wore that ball cap.”

She snorted. “I wore that hat to screw with
JK.
I don’t know if you’ve realized it—maybe because you’re already infamous—but JK’s one of the most famous faces right now, and I’m fucking
proud
of him. I’ve always been. That ball cap had absolutely
nothing
to do with you. Nothing.”

Denying me the chance to retort, she went on, “I know what I did that night was wrong and selfish of me. I didn’t consider the ripple effects it would’ve caused. And in the end, I hurt him, you, the man I love more than anything, and
myself
. I’m sorry for all of it, and if you can’t forgive me and forget it, that’s your bad shit. In case you didn’t know,
I
loved him first. He didn’t love me back.

“He treated me like his naive kid sister. And by the time he started loving me, it was too late. I was loving someone else, my husband. And I still love JK, with every part of me. But I love my husband more. So I chose my husband.

“It’s over and done with, the past is the past and it can never be undone. You
have
him now and he’s head over heels in love with you. I know him better than anyone, and trust me, the love he has for you right now far surpasses whatever bullshit love he ever thought he had for me. He never would’ve loved me this much. His love for me was obligatory. You, he loves you because he can’t fucking help it.

“You won, Saskia, you fucking won. So get the fuck over your petty jealousy and channel your energy into loving that man out there with all your fucking heart, you hear me? Because you’re never gonna find another JK. He’s like raw diamond. Search all you want, he’s the best you’re ever gonna find.

“Put his assholism aside, and you’ll see for yourself that once he says it’s you, it’s
you
. No fucking around. He loves
you
. So you can stand there and scowl and glare all you want, I don’t really give a shit, because I’m not gonna
not
talk to you like we’re in pre-school or something.

“You’re getting married to my brother whom I love very much. You’ll be my sister whether you like it or not, unless you’re gonna leave him and I’m sure you’re not gonna leave him because you’re so stupidly in love with him you can’t even see beyond reason. Plus, if you do, I’ll hunt you down and fucking kill you. That’s a threat.”

Wrenching the door open, she spat out her last words “Welcome to the fucking family,” then walked calmly through the door, closing it quietly behind her.

Well, she told me, didn’t she?

No hostages. No beating around the bush. And in the end, I actually liked her ballsiness.

She was right. It made no sense whatsoever holding grudges over what happened in the past when we were both blithe and contented with the men we love.

Letting it all go in one great exhale, I curled up beside Claire on the bed, falling asleep before I knew it.

If it was possible for me to see myself sleeping, I’d bet there was a ginormous smile on my face.

Missed my flight.
Sorry, babe.
Re-booked to be in by 8am 2moro.
Relay my apologies.
Luv u

I sighed in disappointment at the text.

Once again, Jahleel had missed his flight and I was left to do a job meant for both of us. That’s been happening a lot. Because even though the public was demanding more and more appearances and interviews from both of us together, Jahleel’s top priority was his dance and choreographing business. Everything else went on the back burner.