Chapter 6

SIX

Jesse

My night had gone from utter terror to rage; to despair and shame, and then circling around to shock and confusion.

I’d half convinced myself I’d dreamed up my inlet man from a few days ago, dreamed up everything from his blond hair down to the lithe muscles covering his body.

Yet, here he stood arguing for me and fighting for me.

No one had done that in … damn, not since I’d lived with my mother a decade ago. Mom had always tried to have my back, even if she wasn’t always the most helpful about it.

Sometimes I missed her. Sometimes I was happy to be without her.

I couldn’t help but stare, lost for words as this man laid into Mike, who was well within his rights to fire me. But he didn’t. He kept me on. And hired the inlet Blondie as well.

Oh, Javi was going to have a field day.

Merrick. His name was Merrick .

It was different and unique. Like he was.

Javi asked me something about being OK alone with Merrick. I waved his concerns away.

“He’s harmless. Mostly,” I assured him.

Merrick would come with me because I wanted answers, but he would not be getting lucky. Well, not necessarily. I had too many questions, and he was going to answer them. After that? We’d see.

“All right. See you tomorrow.” Javi winked and made his way off the docks and toward his apartment downtown.

Merrick looked far too pleased with himself now that we were alone. I grabbed his hand and yanked him after me as I marched off the dock. His skin still had that cool, smooth texture that was odd to the touch.

“Where are we—”

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you stalking me or something?” I harshly whispered over my shoulder, tugging him down toward the parking lot, toward the pole where my bike was chained up.

Merrick followed me willingly, a wide grin on his face. “Yes, I successfully tracked you here. Where are we going now?”

His honesty was disarming. Refreshing, but I was unprepared for it. I let go of his hand when we reached my bike. With shaking hands, I undid the lock and shoved it into my knapsack.

“How’d you get here? I rode …” I gestured at my bike apologetically. He had to have driven a car or something to get all the way into town; it was ten miles. I flicked on my headlight and put on my reflectors. People drove like maniacs around here.

Merrick looked toward the thriving nightlife behind us. “I will find something and meet you at your … house.”

Well, that was quite forward, wasn’ t it?

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to beat it since single females weren’t supposed to have strange men follow them home, after all.

Merrick seemed different, though.

And hot.

And nice.

That was a deadly combination forcing me into poor choices.

“Uh … sure. Meet me back at my place.”

Merrick nodded and with a serious look strode off with determination toward the noise and lights of Main Street. I shook my head and made sure my bag was secure, tucking my dress up into the waistband of my leggings.

I took off a little more forcefully than necessary, the tires skidding in the gravel. With a curse, I wobbled, then regained my balance.

I pushed hard and fast, wanting to feel my muscles strain with effort as my horrific evening flooded back. I wanted to burn through the rage and hopelessness I felt at the inequity of it all. Why should I work like a dog and get punished for things beyond my control when assholes like Archie could live the high life and hurt whoever they wanted?

If Merrick hadn’t come along …

My life out here was contingent on my marine degree. Or had been. It had been two months since they’d kicked me out, and no one had found out yet. Plan B was to start frantically fixing up the house and prove to them I could take care of it. Maybe then, they wouldn’t evict me.

If only I had a strapping man around to help me out. Or a dad. Ha. I’d mostly dealt with that trauma ages ago, but sometimes it stung harder than others. According to Gram, no one knew who my dad was, not even my mother. It was something Gram held over both our heads.

I was over all of that, though. I didn’t have daddy issues and from what I’d seen, Mom and I were better off without my grandparents’ money and all its conditions and strings.

Maybe I was being too harsh on them. They wanted to see me safe and settled–being a single girl kicked out of a program and mooching off of them wasn’t exactly encouraging. I could see that. If they found out I’d gotten kicked out, they’d likely make me move back to Ohio with mom, and I couldn’t do it.

Not because I didn’t love my mom–I did. But I was too old to be constantly bumping elbows with her in her small apartment. Living with her would only hurt our relationship, not help it.

But losing the beach house I’d fallen in love with, and the life I’d become accustomed to? That was a very real possibility. And it was terrifying.

No offense to Mom, but I had no desire to move back in with her and her shabby one-bedroom apartment in Ohio. Not at my age. My grandfather treated twenty-six like an old maid—if he had his way, I’d be married and on my second or third kid already.

Because in his mind that was true success.

Well, for some it might be, and that was fine.

But not for me.

I’d tried that already, and sacrificed my late teens through my early twenties to failed relationship after failed relationship, cycling through assholes and pricks like they were cheap, flimsy bras.

At least I’d finally realized that no one could make me happy but me.

I pedaled on, refusing to dwell on dickheads any longer than I needed to.

I’d rather think about Merrick and what the fuck his deal was. I pondered the blond enigma as I finally pulled up to the gravel road and turned off the highway. I threw the bike down on the front steps, quickly stripping off my reflectors and resolving to deal with them later. I only had a small amount of time until Merrick would be here, and right now, the house looked like a pigsty bachelor haven, and not the beach house of a suave, single lady.

Not that I was suave or anything. But I was single.

I dumped last night’s take away into the garbage and after a moment’s thought took my arm and swept everything that was onto the counter into the trash. I winced as I filled the bag and had to get another. I ran around the open kitchen and living room like a possessed woman, quickly filling the second bag and tying it off. Sweating, I took the bags out back and left them.

Running back inside, I quickly fluffed the couch pillows and folded the blankets. I grabbed a cloth and sprayed it with an all-purpose cleaner, quickly running it over the sticky places on the old tile countertop. It took only a few minutes to frantically run the vacuum over the hardwood floors. Damn, they really needed a new stain or some varnish. The golden finish on it was faded and definitely not in style.

I flicked on my wax burner, chucked a cube called ‘cozy’ into it, and ran into the bedroom. I groaned at the mess of dirty clothes and the layer of dust winking at me from the mantle. OK, so maybe I had been depressed after getting kicked out of the program.

“It’s fine. We just won’t go back here. It’s fine.”

I shimmied my pants down my hips, but kept the black cocktail dress I’d worn to work on. I turned in the mirror to make sure there was no dirt from the drive home and threw on another layer of deodorant. I scrunched my hair and sprayed body spray everywhere like a possessed pre-teen. Victoria’s Secret Love Spell filled the surrounding air, a holdover from my teenage years. I only used it on special occasions.

And Merrick was fucking special.

I stared at myself in the mirror, despondent. I was a twenty-six-year-old fat girl trying too hard. Tears heated at the corners of my eyes.

“Fuck you!”

Heated voices jerked me from my pity party, alarm and adrenaline racing through my veins as it always does when you are a female alone. I grabbed the bat I kept by my bed from my stint playing softball in junior high and darted toward the front door. I opened it fully at the sight before me: Merrick waving cheerfully goodbye to a golf cart full of women in bikinis, indifferent to their enraged, scowling faces.

“Thank you for the ride!” he called out happily.

They did not seem pleased with him. One in a bright orange bikini with white, platinum blonde hair spied me and scowled. “Fucking fat ass. Weirdo.”

I couldn’t help but flinch at her insult.

Merrick whirled on them, suddenly a terrifying vision of muscles and aggression.

The golf cart sputtered, then chugged down the gravel path. All four women flipped him the bird as they went.

Merrick happily gave it back to them with both hands, waving his arms dramatically after them with a wide grin.

I covered my mouth with my hands, unable to find words as he walked toward me, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“What was that ?” I demanded, still unsure whether to laugh or cry.

Merrick shrugged. “I asked them to take me for a ride. They seemed happy to do so until we got here and I said goodbye. Hu—people are strange, eh? ”

I eyed his chest, still bare except for the old-fashioned leather bag that hung from his neck and shoulders. Muscles for days.

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” I murmured. Those bitches had thought they were getting dibs on a prime bit of ass, only to be used as a taxi service. To me.

A bubble of laughter welled up in my throat, and I snorted before I could help it. Didn’t want him thinking I was crazy, after all.

“Want to come inside?” I offered instead, my voice an octave higher than it usually was.

Merrick just kept smiling as if he was simply thrilled to be here. He followed me up the creaky porch and across the threshold, greedily taking it all in as he turned his head this way and that. His intense interest only spiked my anxiety further. The house was literally falling apart. He was going to think I was just trash.

Maybe I was; a fat, bastard-born, white bitch with no prospects.

Stop it.

I shook my head.

“Sorry it’s a bit messy, I wasn’t exactly expecting visitors,” I offered.

Merrick stood in the kitchen, looking around with an odd sort of wonder. He picked up his foot from the ceramic tile, then placed it back down again.

Was he not from here? Maybe from a third world country or something? That would explain the strange accent and the overall wonder. Maybe I didn’t need to feel as embarrassed of the house as I thought. He looked impressed, if anything.

I relaxed. Slightly.

“Do you want something to drink? I’ve got Diet Coke, or water. Tea, even.” I tried not to babble, but it was impossible. I was so goddamn nervous.

He blinked at me. “I will drink whatever you are drinking.”

I opened the cabinet and retrieved two classes. “Coke it is, then.”

I reached into the fridge and grabbed the two liter, almost colliding with Merrick as he stood directly behind me, peering into the fridge with frightening intensity.

“ ‘Scuse me,” I mumbled, maneuvering around him to get to the counter, trying to squeeze my ass between us in the narrow galley kitchen. I always felt self-conscious about my body in such small spaces.

Quickly, I filled the glasses and offered him one. His fingers brushed the glass and as soon as I let go, he didn’t take it. The glass fell to the floor and shattered, spilling soda and shards everywhere.

Oh my gods. Could this get worse?

“I’m sorry!” I wailed. “Didn’t you have it?”

I put my glass on the counter and scrambled for the paper towels and a bag. We knocked heads as we both bent on the floor to mop at the mess, him daintily picking up a shard of glass and staring at it.

“I am sorry. I am … not from here,” he muttered, blushing madly. “It was heavier than I thought.”

Third world country it was, then.

“Most people aren’t from here. This place is nothing but tourists in the summer.” I carefully picked up shards of glass and put them in a plastic bag.

I thrust the paper towels at his chest and he took the hint, mopping up the brown liquid carefully as I made sure I got all the glass.

“Son of a bitch!” I hissed in pain, the pad of my index finger slicing open as it found a piece I missed on the floor. I stuck my hand in my mouth to staunch the bleeding, depositing the last bit in the trash can.

Merrick’s hand was around my waist a second later, yanking me through the sticky mess and across the floor, then up onto the counter like I was a Barbie doll. I was so surprised I forgot to be self-conscious.

“You are hurt! Let me see.”

Before I could protest, he held my finger in front of him, his other hand rooting through a small bag at his waist. I couldn’t stop staring at the muscles on his shoulders or the intricate necklace that hung from his throat on a leather cord. Was it an opal? It shined every iridescent color of the rainbow, its beauty distracting me from the harsh stinging of my hand.

Merrick brought some kind of gel pod to his mouth, ripping it open with his teeth. He squeezed it on my finger, and I sighed at the instant relief that happened as the wound tingled and went cold. Carefully, he packed the clear remains of the gel packet around my finger, molding it around the area like a liquid Band-Aid. Within seconds, it hardened and dried.

I held it up in front of my eyes, admiring it. Was he a marine biologist, too? Was this some kind of new innovative wound care I hadn’t heard of since I’d left the program?

“This is what my … my family uses,” he explained. “You can remove it in a few minutes.”

Merrick clasped his hand over mine, holding it in place and tucking me further into his broad chest. Was I dreaming? What the fuck was happening?

“You’re very forward,” I ended up saying, mostly to fill the odd silence that had descended between us. He smelled like the ocean, as cliche as that sounded, but without the stereotypical smell of sunscreen and coconuts. It was authentic. It was real, and it called out to something deep and primal within me. There was a spicy undertone that reminded me of the produce section in the bodega downtown.

I couldn’t see his expression above me, but I heard the surprised huff he let out.

“What direction am I supposed to go? Backwards?” he asked.

A bark of laughter escaped me. Merrick was so refreshing. He was nothing like any other guy I’d dated. Except we weren’t dating. We weren’t even technically friends.

“We may remove it now,” he noted cheerfully, quickly peeling back the clear gel on my finger. It had dried to a consistency similar to silicone or rubber.

“What the—” I snapped my mouth shut, stunned to see only a thin pink line where a deep cut had been only moments ago. I stared at it. “What’s in that stuff?”

Merrick tucked the dried gel back into his bag. “Extracted jellyfish venom, along with seaweed and a few other malleable components to make the wrap.”

My fingers opened and closed reflexively; the skin felt fine, if a little tight. Wouldn’t jellyfish venom be bad to put on a wound?

“Right …” I managed.

“May I try your beverage again?” he asked brightly, those blue-green eyes practically glowing in the semi-darkness. I needed to turn on more lights than the one candle and my wax burner.

“Why don’t we share mine? Then you can see if you like it or not.” I suggested. I had the feeling this would be his first Coke experience and wanted no more shattered glasses.

I shook my head and held out my glass . He bent forward and tried to take a sip, seeming the flounder a bit as he hovered with uncertainty over the top of the glass. Then his tongue dipped in like a cat’s, and he made a face .

His nose wrinkled and brows furrowed.

“It burns!”

I laughed.

“Not a soda guy, then,” I confirmed, trying not to giggle as his features screwed up like a child forced to eat a piece of broccoli. I downed the rest of the soda quickly, mostly to have something to do.

“Carbonation takes some getting used to.”

With a thunk, my glass hit the counter.

“So, it must be really different where you’re from,” I started, since it was obvious he had to be from somewhere pretty remote. What guy had never tasted soda before? And carried around amazingly effective homeopathic remedies?

Eyeing his tanned skin and long, dreadlocked hair, I guessed he was from a small island somewhere. Perhaps Polynesian? Then again, he was blond. Mixed heritage? I wanted to know everything.

“It is very different here. This is my first time in your … city.” The way he said it, I could tell he was trying to be polite and didn’t care much for the crowds and noise any more than I did this time of year.

“It’s tourist season.” I laughed. “That means it’s loud, chaotic, and filled with too many people. It will be even worse starting tonight.”

I hopped off the counter and opened the fridge, scoring a banana and the last bits of a leftover sandwich from Subway.

“Hungry?” I asked, raising half of the sandwich toward him.

Merrick’s brow raised in a knowing look, ignoring my sandwich offering. “Ah, yes. The ritual.”

I froze in the act of raising the sandwich to my mouth.

“The what now?” I offered the banana to Merrick, who took it reverently, then simply held it out in his hand.

That ruled out a remote island. Didn’t all remote islands have bananas?

“The ritual,” he continued eagerly as if wanting to impress me, “when the young females all descend upon the shore and dance. There is music, and food, and—”

“Do you mean spring break ?” I clarified, choking a bit. To an outsider, spring break would look like one giant cult ritual, wouldn’t it?

Don’t laugh in his face.

“Yes, the Break of Spring,” he clarified. “It happens every year.” He looked quite proud to know this.

I finished the sandwich and took the banana back from him to set on the counter for later. The kitchen was narrow, so I had to lean across Merrick to do so. When I drew back, he was staring, all expression gone from his face. Had I offended him? Touched him inappropriately?

“Is that why you’re here, then? For spring break?” I asked, unnerved by his full and undivided attention. I wasn’t used to it, not from guys like him. He was probably here to get some ass, just like most of the buff guys who rolled into town this time of year.

“Yes, actually.”

My chest seized, and I glanced at the floor. And here I thought he’d be different. “Ah. I get it. So … you’re one of those guys who like bigger girls then?”

It hurt to ask, but I had to know. It wasn’t anything against him, but I wasn’t into that. At all. I left the kitchen and sat down on the loveseat to give myself some space from him.

He followed, brows furrowed. “Bigger girls. What do you mean? You are not large compared to me.”

Merrick was either dumb or playing me. I grit my teeth, embarrassed to have to spell it out for him.

“Guys like you, with all your … muscles. They don’t usually go for people who look like me.”

He blinked.

I resisted the urge to punch a pillow. “Usually guys like you go for girls like … like the ones in the golf cart you came here with.”

Merrick’s nose wrinkled. “The skinny ones with no clothes?”

I nodded hesitantly.

Merrick sat down next to me, letting off a small yelp of surprise when he sank into the cushion. I guess he didn’t have loveseats where he was from, either.

He slapped a hand across his defined abs. “This is my summer body. It is warm out, and we do a lot of work during that time. During winter, we must conserve energy. It is too cold to work. You cannot see these then. The fat is good and keeps us warm. I don’t need it during the warm season.” His finger ran over the taut muscles, and then he looked up to see if I understood.

My eyes narrowed. “So you’re telling me you have a winter bod and a summer bod because of your work?”

Merrick grinned. “Yes. Exactly.” He stuck his lower lip out. “Those other females? They would not survive long where I live. The cold would get to them.” He gave me an appraising look. “You would not die. You would survive the winter. You’re strong and could help others. Like you helped me. And you are much more beautiful and desirable than any of them.”

The casual, no-nonsense way he said it had me paralyzed and in shock. I could tell he wasn’t bull-shitting me from the serious tilt of his chin, and the intensity of his eyes.

I had to take a moment just to breathe. This wasn’t anything like any of the hookups I’d had before. He wasn’t like any other guy I’d brought home before. It was too much. All of it. I didn’t trust it.

“I-I think I need to go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow at work? At the docks?” I stammered out, my heart pounding in my chest.

Rather than look put out or upset, Merrick simply stood. “Yes, I will see you then. I look forward to spending more time with you.”

Suspicion clouded my mind. “Did you only take this job to get closer to me?”

He grinned as if I’d just solved a clever riddle. “Yes. Of course.”

Stop. He had to stop being so fucking adorable and honest.

“O-OK. Um. Good night then.”

Instead of going back toward the front door, he shot a glance at the back porch. “Do you mind if I go this way?”

Realization flooded me. “Oh, you kayaked when you first got here? Sure. No problem.” What kind of crazy man kayaked into the fucking dark? Well, a second time. At least he was consistent?

Merrick gave me another small wave and pushed the back door open.

I was floored. He truly intended to leave without trying to push his luck with me? As if he truly meant everything he said?

What if this was proof he was lying? If he thought I was so beautiful, then surely he wouldn’t try to run away so quickly, would he?

“Wait!”

Merrick paused and turned back to look at me over his shoulder. I shot off the couch, refusing to back down in case I lost my nerve. I bumped into him, my palms immediately resting on his chest to steady myself. I stared at the opal jewel around his throat, level with my eyes. The colors almost seemed to swirl in front of me. They were as mesmerizing as Merrick himself.

I looked up. Calloused hands cupped my face and held me still. Blonde hair fell against the back of my shoulders, the dreads surprisingly soft against my skin. The scent of salt and the sea filled my nose: seaweed and rushes, sand and sun and that heady hint of something spicy.

“What do you want?” I asked breathlessly.

His lips ghosted against my forehead. “To protect you. To see you safe.”

Something twinged in my heart. “From what?”

The fingers around my jaw tightened. His head dropped further as he nuzzled against my neck. “I will see you tomorrow, siren.”

Merrick jerked a bit as the pet name slipped out, but that was the final straw for me. I was all out of sorts from him being so nice and saying such wonderful things about me. My hand tangled in the back of his hair and pulled, yanking his mouth down to mine.

He gave a slight groan of surprise, then crushed me against him, kissing me deeply and pulling me to him like he was lost at sea, and I was a bit of floating driftwood. His lips were cool and refreshing, his taste of citrus and sun.

The kiss was over too soon, Merrick abruptly pulling away even as he grinned at me. Then he had the audacity to boop my nose.

“If I keep kissing you like this, I won’t ever let you go. You will be mine,” he promised darkly, his voice nothing more than a deep purr.

My eyes narrowed. I was never one to back away from a challenge. “Will I, now?”

His hands tightened around me, and he turned around and slammed me up against the door frame.