Merman's Touch (Merman's Kiss, Book 2) Page 4

  “Should I prepare another one?” she asks.

  I finish the last bit and shake my head.

  She rests her elbows on the counter and looks at me. Her eyes narrow. “What happened?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Her eyes narrow even more and her eyebrows scrunch together. “No, seriously. Except for the freaky gulping-your-entire-smoothie-down-in-less-than-two-minutes-with-no-brain-freeze thing, something happened. You look different.” She raises an eyebrow in a you-are-so-busted way.

  My cheeks burn. Is it stamped on my forehead that Damarian and I did it? I mean, Leah’s my best friend and can read me too well, but is it really that obvious?

  I lean forward. “Okay. Something did happen.”

  She rubs her hands together. “Ooh. I love me some juice.” She cups her hand around her ear and bends forward.

  “Damarian and I had sex,” I whisper.

  “You WHAT?”

  “Shh.” I motion her with my hands to keep her voice down.

  She raises the counter and runs out, grabbing my arm and dragging me out with her. She brings me to a secluded area on the beach. “Okay. Tell me everything!”

  I do. When I’m done, she squeals, takes hold of my arms, and jumps around. “I can’t believe it!”

  I jump along with her, and we spin around in a circle, laughing like we’re two drunken girls on the beach. I trip over some sand and we crash to the ground, tumbling over each other. Still laughing, we roll onto our backs and stare at the sky. The sun is not too strong this morning and the sky is clear.

  “Was he a human or a merman?” Leah asks.

  My head snaps to hers. “What? Of course a human! I told you we were in my bed. And, um, sleeping with him when he’s a fish? That’s a little…weird.”

  She shrugs. “You never thought about it? I’m pretty sure your man would rather be a merman when he does the deed. He does have the works in that form, doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah, of course. But I never…I haven’t thought about that.” And I’m not sure I want to. Does Damarian want to be in his true form? I don’t know what it would be like. I’m a human and he’s a merman. It wouldn’t be right. Would it?

  I decide to change the subject. “I was so awkward after. I don’t know why. Most of the time I feel so comfortable around him, but sometimes I feel shy.”

  She’s quiet for a few seconds. “It’s probably because you really like him. This was a huge step for you guys and you wanted it to be perfect. It’s normal to freak out.”

  “Yeah, I guess. And it was also his first time.”

  “Not to mention you basically married him.”

  “Yeah.” I flatten my hands to my sides and gather some sand.

  “Was it good?”

  My whole body heats up. “Amazing.”

  She grins. “So fishboy knows what he’s doing?”

  I sit up. “He was so cute, Leah. So nervous and excited, but mostly nervous. Just thinking about it makes me want to hug him.” I draw my knees to my chest. “I wish it was my first time, too. It would have made it more special.”

  Leah sits up. “Don’t think like that. I’m sure Damarian was glad his woman had some experience.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively.

  I throw some sand on her lap.

  “Hey!” She grabs a handful.

  “Not at my eyes!” I jump to my feet and race around the beach, with Leah chasing after me. After a few minutes, something gets caught in my throat and I fall to my knees, coughing.

  Leah huffs as she catches up to me. “Damn, I need to work out more.” She wipes sweat off her forehead.

  “I’m so thirsty.”

  She snorts. “No one told you to run around like that. Oh, crap.” She smacks her forehead. “I just ditched work. My ass is going to get fired because of you.” She reaches for my hand and hauls me to my feet. “Come, I’ll make you another smoothie.”

  ***

  To say Uncle Jim was furious would be an understatement. He told me I should thank the sacred sand that he’s my uncle, or else I’d kiss my job goodbye. I do feel guilty that I left him and my students hanging, but…yeah. I would not have traded what Damarian and I shared this morning for anything.

  Damarian’s flipping through a photo album when I walk in. His eyes brighten. “Cassie!”

  The fact that he’s so happy to see me makes me feel really good. I join him on the couch and kiss him. I look at the album that’s opened on his knees. “I hope there are no embarrassing pictures in there.”

  “Is it customary for humans to capture their reflections and place them in books?”

  “Yeah. It’s making memories.”

  He nods slowly. “I understand.” He points to a picture of Mom holding me as a baby at the hospital. “Is this you as a fry?”

  I nod.

  “Humans appear quite peculiar as fry.” He flips through the pages. “Studying your growth is fascinating.” He closes the album and places it on the coffee table. “Was your uncle upset?”

  I wave my hand. “Yeah, but it’s no big deal.”

  He takes my hands in his. “Forgive me if I am to blame for causing a rift in your family.”

  “A rift? No, it’s okay, Damarian. Really. I told you Uncle Jim is high maintenance. Besides.” I play with some of his hair. “I’d choose you over my students any day.” I kiss his forehead. “I’m going to grab a drink. The smoothies Leah gave me just made me more thirsty. Want some juice or water?”

  “No, thank you, my love.”

  I return to the living room with my glass of water and sit down near Damarian. “I need to tell you something,” I say. I’ve been pushing it off long enough and he needs to know this. I can’t keep it from him.

  I move a few inches away from him so I can give myself some space as I formulate the words in my head. I’m so scared for his reaction. “I hope you won’t be upset with me.”

  Damarian’s eyebrows furrow. He runs his fingers through my hair. “Never, my sweet Cassie.”

  I take a sip from my water, then clear my throat. “So you remember when I first rescued you and helped you get back in the ocean?”

  “Certainly I recall. It is something I shall never forget, for it brought us together.” He kisses my temple. “What a spectacular day it was.”

  “Yeah. Um. So.” I clear my throat again. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. So I told Leah. She’s known about you all this time.”

  His expression changes. His face falls. I see the emotions racing across his face. Confusion, disbelief, betrayal. “Leah is aware I am a child of the sea?”

  “I didn’t want to tell you she knew. I didn’t want to upset you. Had I known you’d come back, I wouldn’t have told her.”

  He doesn’t say anything. His lips are pressed in a tight line and his gaze is locked on the floor. He doesn’t look mad, just confused like he’s not sure what he should be feeling.

  I take his hand and slide my fingers through his. “You know you can trust Leah. In fact, she begged me to tell you that she knows. She doesn’t want to have any secrets.”

  “I understand, Cassie. You share a unique bond with Leah. It is natural that you would confide in her. I gather you were baffled by the appearance of a child of the sea.”

  “You have no idea.”

  He pulls me to his chest and his lips trail down my neck. “Thank you for telling me.” He continues brushing his lips down my throat.

  “Damarian?”

  “Yes?”

  “Did you talk to your parents about coming on land?”

  His lips draw away from my skin and his eyes meet mine. They are full of regret. I guess I know the answer.

  He tilts my head up so our eyes are on one another. “Do not fret. In time, I am certain they will wish to come on land.” He can’t hide the uncertainty from his eyes

  I nod, though my throat constricts.

  He puts his arm around me and holds me close, his lips skimming down the side of my f
ace. This gesture alone tells me everything. We’ll stay together no matter what, no matter who tries to stop us. Hopefully, his family will accept me one day—accept us. But we’re not going to live our lives constantly wondering what the future holds. All that matters is right now, that we’re together and happy.

  Chapter Seven

  I park the car in Dad’s driveway and take a deep breath. I’ve been here a few times, but I’ve never brought Damarian. I really want Dad to like him, and for Damarian to like my father. Having the love of your life’s parents not accept you is not a good feeling. I don’t want to put Damarian through that. Mom adores him, and I hope Dad will feel the same.

  Damarian lays his hand on mine. “All will be well.”

  I force out a small laugh. “I should be the one calming you down.”

  His eyes smile. “Humans have extremely volatile emotions.”

  I slap his chest. “I’m sure merpeople freak out just as much as humans. You’re always a gentleman and put my needs before yours.” I stretch my neck to give him a quick kiss. “And that’s what makes you so damn irresistible.”

  He moves to pull me closer, but I sit back. “I don’t think it will make a good impression on my dad if he finds us making out in his driveway.” At least, that’s what I think. I didn’t have a dad when I went through the teenage years, where I’d fight with him about the guys I wanted to date. The thought of what could have been makes my heart sting a little, but I push it away. All that matters is that I have a relationship with my father now. I can’t wallow in the past.

  “His wife, Sheila—my stepmom—makes these lemon cookies,” I say. “They are so good. They’re very chewy, so if my dad says something that makes you uncomfortable, eat the cookies, okay?”

  His head bobs with a nod. “Are we informing him that I am a child of the sea?”

  I shake my head. “I think we need to hold off on that one for now. My dad’s head is still reeling from the shock that he and I have reconnected after all these years.” I don’t want anything to keep us from forming a close relationship. I feel like I lost my dad for six years. Telling him my boyfriend is really a merman would definitely put a strain on things.

  We get out of the car and, holding hands, step up to the door. Just as I raise my hand to knock, the door flies open and Ruthie rams herself into me, slamming her face into my stomach. “Cassie’s here!”

  I cough and pat her head. “You’re going to kill me, kid.”

  She grins up at me. Then her eyes move to Damarian. “Who’s that?”

  “This is Damian. My boyfriend.”

  Her nose twists. “Ew.”

  She’s only seven and thinks boys have cooties. I pinch her cheek. “Just you wait. When you bring your boyfriend to meet me, I’ll say the same thing.”

  Her nose twists even more. “Gross.”

  Laughing, I take Damarian’s hand and lead him into the house. I scrutinize his face. He looks confident, but I see the anxiety in his eyes. I squeeze his hand.

  Sheila and my dad are in the kitchen, putting together a small snack. Dad takes me in his arms and kisses my cheek. His wife does the same. “We’re so happy to have you.”

  “Thanks,” I say, my lips feeling dry. Damn, I need a drink again?

  Dad’s eyes land on Damarian. “You must be Damian.” He holds out his hand. Without hesitating, Damarian shakes it with a strong grip. I smile to myself, thinking back to the first time he encountered a hand shake.

  Sheila elbows me. “He’s hot.”

  My heart swells as I watch him talk to my dad. He’s trying so hard to make a good impression, sometimes stuttering over his words as he attempts to sound more human. I wish I could pull him into a closet and kiss him.

  My throat is so dry I feel like I might die if I don’t get some liquid in my system. “Can I please have a drink?” I ask.

  “Sure,” Sheila says. “Soda, tea, water, juice?”

  “Water, please. Thanks.”

  She hands me a glass.

  Eight-year-old Bobby saunters into the kitchen, his eyes glued to his handheld game. “Hey, you,” I say. What he gives me can hardly count as a nod. I ruffle his hair.

  “What is this?” Damarian asks, pointing to the object in Bobby’s hand.

  I stand still. As a twenty-year-old guy, he should know what a handheld game is. My dad and Sheila give him confused looks.

  “Raiders of the Moon,” Bobby pipes up. “It’s about these kids who land on the moon. You have to fight the Moon Men, see? And you get lots of treasure, and get stronger. You have to be careful because the Moon Men can steal your treasure.” Bobby holds the thing out to Damarian as he plays. Damarian watches it with eyes bigger than the lemon cookies sitting on the counter.

  “That is fascinating,” he says.

  Dad and Sheila exchange a look.

  I clear my throat. “The cookies look amazing, Sheila.”

  She smiles. “Please help yourselves.”

  I grab two and hand the plate to Damarian. His eyes meet mine for a few seconds, and we share a silent understanding. These cookies are our weapons. Damarian takes three, bites one, and his eyes look like they’re going to explode. “These are scrumptious!” He puts the whole thing in his mouth and chomps it down.

  “Damian, be caref—”

  He grips his throat and heaves a little, his face turning red, his eyes tearing. I shove my glass into his hand, and he chugs down the water. His body relaxes and his face returns to its natural, translucent color.

  He’s still not used to human food. He’s been eating fish all his life and isn’t used to the kind of foods that can dry out your throat, like bread, grains, and baked goods.

  “You okay?” Dad asks, clapping his back.

  Damarian nods, still chewing some of the cookie. I reach to place a quick kiss on his cheek.

  “Gross,” Ruthie says.

  Sheila elbows me again. “He’s adorable. And the way you take care of him is just precious. I can tell you two love each other very much.”

  “We do,” I say softly.

  The six of us settle down in the living room with the refreshments. Ruthie bounces on my knees. “Mom said she’ll let you teach me to surf when I’m older.”

  “I’d love to.”

  “And me, too!” Bobby says.

  “Of course.”

  The room grows silent.

  Dad shifts on his recliner. “So tell me, Damian. Are you starting college in the Fall?”

  Damarian’s eyes trek to mine. He looks alarmed. Damn, I should have anticipated this question. We prepped a bit before we left the house, but Damarian assured me he would be fine.

  “Um, maybe,” I say. “He’s still trying to figure things out.”

  “What do your parents do?” Sheila asks.

  This we prepared. Damarian answers confidently, “My parents catch fish. Forgive me—I’m sorry. My parents are fishermen.”

  Dad’s face brightens. “I used to be a fisherman. Maybe I know them.”

  Oh, crap. Did that seriously slip my mind? “Probably not,” I quickly say. “So, um, Sheila. How’s the basement coming along?”

  As she tells me the struggles they’re dealing with, Damarian and I exchange a glance. I give him a reassuring nod and smile. We’ll get through this.

  But when I look at Dad, I see he’s watching Damarian suspiciously. I swallow. Will he accept Damarian? Or does he suspect something’s off with him?

  “Do you have a job, Damian?” Dad asks.

  “Dad,” I mutter. “Stop interrogating him.”

  “I’m just trying to get to know him better, Cass Bass.”

  I’m about to tell him he doesn’t need to make up for the times he should have been playing police over my potential boyfriends back in high school—not that I had many—but Damarian says, “I will search for work.”

  Dad nods. “That’s great. What kind of work are you looking for?”

  Again, Damarian’s gaze shoots to mine, totally alarm
ed. Well, if you can find a place that doesn’t require a high school diploma…that would be great.

  Dad scans Damarian from top to bottom. “You’re in good shape. Do you have any experience in construction?”

  Damarian looks like Dad asked him a difficult math equation.

  “Er…sure?” I say.

  “A friend of mine is looking to hire a couple of guys. I can talk to him, if you’d like.”

  “Really, Dad? That would be great!”

  “Anything for my girl.” Dad winks.

  “Hey!” Ruthie says.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. Anything for my other girl.” He winks to her, too. I squeeze her tight and bounce her on my knees.

  Suddenly, my throat gets parched again. I stand, placing Ruthie on the couch. “Please excuse me. I’m going to get some water.”

  “There’s juice and tea here,” Sheila offers, gesturing to the refreshments on the table.

  “Thanks, but I’d like water.”

  In the kitchen, I fill up a glass with cold water and take a long sip. Why am I so thirsty all the time?

  “Cass?”

  I spin around and find Dad standing behind me. “Hey, Dad.”

  He steps closer and leans against the counter. His eyes are locked on mine.

  “What?” I ask, a hint of fear rising in my stomach.

  He folds his arms. “This Damian guy…”

  “Dad. Don’t call him ‘this Damian guy.’ C’mon.”

  His eyes narrow a bit. “How well do you know him?”

  A lump forms in my throat. I drink some more water. “Really well. Why are you asking me all these questions and being hard on him? Do you not like him or something?”

  “I like him. He seems good to you.”

  “He is. He’s really a great guy. And different.”

  His forehead wrinkles. “Different?”

  I want to bang my head against the counter. Why did I say that? “I mean…you know. He doesn’t really care what other people think and likes to do whatever he wants and he’s just really sweet and warm and caring and romantic. He’s cool like that.” If I babble any more, I’ll lose my vocal chords.

  “Where is he from originally?”