Traveler by L.E. DeLano (book suggestions .txt) đź“•
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- Author: L.E. DeLano
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Suddenly, entirely too many memories are filling my head, and I step back, putting a little room between us.
His eyes show his concern, and he steps forward.
“Jessa? Are you all right?”
I look up at him with entirely new eyes now that the memories are flooding in.
“Finn, I’m not—”
“Jessamyn!” a voice is calling loudly from the dock.
I look at Finn with wide eyes. Jessamyn? What sort of a name is that?
“Your father!” he says in an urgent whisper. “Here!” He pushes me behind him, motioning for me to head down the stairs to the crew quarters below. They’re empty this time of day, and I press my back up against the wall in the corridor, straining to hear what Finn is saying to my father.
“Beg pardon?” Finn’s voice carries to me. “Jessamyn? Blond hair, blue dress?”
“That’s her,” my father confirms.
“I’ve seen her around here before, never knew her name.” Finn reassures him. “She passed by a few minutes ago, but I didn’t see where she went after she turned off the dock. I was busy seeing to my cargo, mate.”
“Spices?” my father asks suspiciously.
“’Fraid not. Gentlemen’s trousers. Surplus load taken from a Dutch frigate in sovereign waters.”
“Humph.” My father sounds clearly disgruntled. “Did the spice merchant’s load make port yet?”
“Hours ago,” Finn informs him. “They’ve already offloaded and taken it into town.”
“For your trouble,” I hear my father say, and then I hear his boots ring out on the gangplank. A few moments later, Finn comes down the stairs, flipping a gold coin in the air and catching it.
“Not only did I drive him off your trail, but he paid me to do so. I call that a profitable day.”
He grins a lopsided grin and reaches for me once more.
“Now,” he says, maneuvering me gently back against the wall as his mouth hovers just above mine. “Where were we?”
He starts to lower his head again, and it takes a great deal of focus for me to push against his chest and back him up. He looks at me in confusion.
“Something wrong?”
“Finn,” I say carefully. “Don’t freak out, okay? I’m a different me.”
He takes a step back. “Jessa?”
“Still Jessa, but not your Jessa. Sorry,” I say apologetically. “If you’ll give me ten minutes, I’ll run home and get your girl back for you.”
He looks concerned. “She’s traveling without me? We agreed she wasn’t going to do that.”
“It’s not her fault. I didn’t agree.”
“You wouldn’t have been able to travel if she didn’t want to as well. It seems she was looking for an adventure, just as you were, love.”
I don’t know why it makes me warm inside when he says that word, but it does. I’m getting way too comfortable with this Jessa’s memories. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing black leather pants and a black shirt that clings to his arms and chest in a really distracting way. I tear my eyes away from him.
“Okay, then,” I say. “Let’s get her back so you can yell at her—or whatever.”
“You’re speaking differently as well, you know,” he says. “Are you not living in New Devonshire, where you are?”
“No. I’m in a town called Ardenville. It’s in New York State. Off the Hudson River.” I glance down. “And we don’t dress like this.”
“How do you dress?” he asks, cocking his head to one side.
“Pants. T-shirts. It’s a lot easier than all this stuff.” I gesture down at my skirt, corset, and bustle.
“A woman in trousers.” He gives me a speculative look. “Interesting. And I’m not from Greenore, I take it?”
“Is that in Ireland?” I ask, scrunching up my nose.
“Yes.” A smile pulls at his lips. “So where am I from, then?”
I stare at him, thinking. “You know … I don’t really know. You’ve been so annoying, I never got a straight answer.”
He laughs lightly, chucking me under the chin. “You’ve got some backbone, love. I quite like it.”
“Please don’t tell me I’m some wilting hothouse flower over here.”
He shakes his head. “Nothing of the sort. My Jessa has strength in her—it’s just not so close to the surface as yours.” He steps in closer again, invading my personal space to the point where I can feel his breath fan my lips.
“But I do love a woman with gumption,” he adds.
I put my hand on his chest again. “Finn.”
He lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Are you sure you need to go?”
I nod, trying really hard not to let him see how rattled he’s got me. “You need your girl back,” I remind him.
“You are my girl, or haven’t you learned that yet?” he asks. “Wherever you go, you are who you are.”
“Let’s just say I don’t have all the same experiences,” I tell him, trying hard not to blush. I fail miserably, and he makes no effort to hide his answering grin.
“Really?”
My back stiffens. “I’m not sure I like that it surprises you.”
He chuckles again. “I’m not casting aspersions, love. I just gave myself more credit in your reality.”
“You only just showed up in my reality.”
His eyes narrow thoughtfully. “Interesting.”
“Anyway…” I look around. “You’re a sailor?”
“I’m the captain,” he says, sounding slightly offended.
“Sorry. That’s right. Wasn’t thinking.” I feel really awkward now. “I’m new at this,” I say.
“You’ll figure it all out,” he promises with a wink, and I’m staring at him—way too long.
“I’d better get back.” I look toward the stairs, but he motions me farther down the corridor.
“Come along, then,” he says.
He turns and walks to the end of the corridor and opens a door. It’s the captain’s cabin, and inside is a sleek four-poster bed that dominates the room. I try not to stare at it, and I wish I didn’t remember it so well. I glance over at Finn, and I’m embarrassed to see that he’s caught me doing so. He raises a brow,
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