chapterone
Clara
The day of their wedding
I’ve never been romantic. Even as a kid, I could appreciate Belle staying with the Beast— after all, he had that amazing library—but I never understood why Ariel would leave the ocean for Prince Eric. I even wrote a fanfic once in which she returned to the sea to join Sebastian and Flounder in a pop band. I guess I just had trouble imagining setting aside my own goals simply to be with a man. Far too practical, my mother always said.
Yet, even by myfar too practicalstandards, my wedding day is a disappointment.
I’m standing on the steps of the county courthouse, waiting for my groom to show up. And by standing, I mean pacing. My best friend, Sissy, is sitting sprawled on the steps. Elbows propped behind her on one, butt on the next, feet stretched out in front of her, eyes closed and chin tipped up to the sun. It’s a gorgeous spring day that would be perfect for an outdoor wedding. If this were that kind of wedding and I were that kind of girl. Instead, I’m walking up and down the steps, looping Sissy in rectangles.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” She doesn’t bother opening her eyes.
“It’s my only option.”
“That’s a little overly dramatic, don’t you think? You could take that job on the research vessel. You could go back to grad school and finish getting your doctorate. Hell, you could get a job managing a Build a Bear at the local mall. Youhaveoptions.”
“You know what I mean.”
Sissy doesn’t argue because she does know what I mean. Sissy and I have been friends since college when we were the only two girls in our university’s oceanography program. It’s not easy being a woman getting an advanced degree in a male-dominated STEM field—especially when our oceans seem like they’re on the brink of collapse. It takes a more than average level of dedication and motivation. Sissy, who grew up in Florida and has been obsessed with manatees since childhood, is fueled by her need to protect those gentle giants and educate people about how important they are.
As for me, I’m obsessed with saving one tiny slice of the ocean. Creciente Caye, one of the atolls off the coast of Belize. My uncle owns it and another, even smaller, island. He’s run a small resort there since before I was born, the Blue Crown Resort, named after Belize’s famed blue-crowned motmots.
That resort is the closest thing I have to a home since my mom and I moved around a lot when I was growing up. Since my mom and I aren’t particularly close, Uncle Red is the closest thing I have to a family, other than Sissy that is.
My one goal has always been to study the complex ecosystems of Belize’s barrier reef so that one day I could take over the resort and then, in turn, teach the resort’s guests what they can do to protect the delicate ecology of the area.
Then, just as I was finishing up my master’s, Uncle Red had a heart attack. Now everything I’ve worked for is at risk. He can’t live out on an island, three hours from the nearest doctor, any longer. But he doesn’t want me to take over the resort either, not when I am “so young,” to use his words. I’m not young. I’m twenty-two. But he’s afraid I’ll miss out on too much of my life if I take over the resort now. He wants me to find love, get married, have kids.
It doesn’t matter to him that I’ve never wanted any of those things. I want the island. I want the resort. I want him healthy enough to visit when he can enjoy being a guest there instead of working his ass off. Those are the things I want.
I had no idea how to convince Uncle Red of that until Sissy suggested I get married. If I can convince Uncle Red that I already have love and a husband and all those things, then he might sign the resort over to me and he can retire. Four months ago, I told Uncle Red I’d met the man of my dreams.
Yep. I lied.
To the closest thing to a father I’ve ever known, I lied like a rug. My fictional boyfriend was tough and strong, but gentle. He was a scuba diver, which I knew Uncle Red would love. He loves the ocean as much as I do. In short, he was my perfect imaginary boyfriend.
Great plan, right?
Except Uncle Red is a stubborn old fuck. And he won’t sign over the resort until Mr. Perfect and I are married and stay married for at least two years.
Which left me in need of a husband. Preferably one who dives and who loves the ocean.
Now you would think that wouldn’t be hard to find at the Florida Institute of Technology while studying at one of the best programs in the country. The problem is, I don’t want a real husband. I don’t want someone who loves this like I do. Someone who’s going to get emotionally invested in the resort and then fight me for ownership when this is over.
Which is where Sissy came to my rescue. Again.
Now, with my doubts eating away at me, I force myself to run through all the reasons this will work.
I pace some more, then plop down next to Sissy as she straightens and folds her legs up. “No, this is my best bet. You said Johnny was a good guy.”
“Jonah…” She draws the name out pointedly while glaring at me. “Is a great guy. Thebestguy.”
“Right. Jonah.” I wave aside the obvious censure at my apparent inability to remember the guy’s name. On paper is perfect. I know enough about the guy I could practically write his resume, so does it matter if I didn’t get his name right? “Fresh out of the Navy SEALs, so he’s a diver, which Uncle Red will love. And presumably, all that SEAL training means he does love the ocean.”
Sissy pushes her sunglasses up on her forehead. “He’s a beach bum from way back. Just like me.”
Growing up, Jonah was the best friend of her much older brother. He’s more than a decade older than me, which makes sense since most guys don’t get accepted into the SEAL program until their mid to late twenties. He was honorably discharged after being wounded during a mission. He had a shit ton of physical therapy, but it wasn’t enough to get back in the field, so he walked away.
