“Great. Thanks,” she muttered, shifting the basket to her other arm as she began her walk home.
He cleared his throat, then said to her retreating form. “It was enchanting to meet you tonight, Tempest. I do hope our paths cross again.”
Heart beating too fast, she turned back to him. His strong, muscular form was cast in shadows from the Boardwalk, but those eyes—those captivating, hazel eyes sparkled in the moonlight. Her breath caught as she tried to find words; to brush him off or thank him, she wasn’t entirely sure.
The merman gave her a little half-wave, his smile dazzling, as she gaped at him. Finally, she gave him a curt nod and turned on her heel. Perhaps the elixir from Toast and Tide had been stronger than she realized.
Tempest couldn’t remember the last time a man had caught her attention like this, made her so flustered. Surely the alcohol was to blame. She would go home to her cozy little beach house, sleep it off. and all would be well in the morning.
Nodding to herself, she continued to put one foot in front of the other. The music playing over the speakers from the Boardwalk felt like a warning. Unsettling.
Drown me, you make my heart beat like the rain
Surround me, hold me deep beneath your waves
And every night my mind is running around her
Thunder's getting louder and louder and louder
Baby, you're like lightning in a bottle
I can't let you go now that I got it
And all I need is to be struck
By your electric love
A few minutes later, Tempest arrived at her sanctuary. The porch swing swayed in the seabreeze, the house dark except for a light inside glowing like always. She hated coming home to a dark and empty house, and as a woman living alone, she had to be cautious.
Not that bad things happened often in a sleepy little town like Crescent Cove. That didn’t mean it was impossible, though. Tempest slipped the key in the lock and turned it, the click of the latch giving way as she pushed it with one shoulder.
Inside, everything remained exactly as she had left it. A cluttered living room with a white couch, blue accent pillows out of place and in need of a fluff. The small kitchen off to the right, with a window looking out at the sea and a soft blue gingham curtain hung over the top. At the back of her house, the main bedroom and bathroom were equally chaotic.
Tempest wasn’t much for housekeeping. She did miss the dozens of plants her mother and sisters had in their house growing up, the fresh blooms and fragrance of flowers. The window-sill sat full of herbs and aloe. Alas, she did not have a green thumb like the rest of her family, and couldn’t keep anything alive for more than a month.
She had settled for jars of sand and seashells, driftwood decor, and other beachy touches that made the place feel like hers. Like home. Usually, it brought her comfort—her proximity to the sea, the sound of crashing waves out on the beach, the distance from her family who never tried to understand her.
Tonight, though, it felt…lonely. Tempest sank onto her couch warily, acutely aware of the silence after the hustle and bustle of the Moonlight Market and the town all gathered on the Boardwalk. All these years, she’d been part of this town, doing the work she loved, without really trying to make friends or build a life here.
It hadn’t bothered her before. Or not much, most days. For somereason, at this moment, it made Tempest tear up. She sniffled, wiping her nose with a tissue, trying to fight off the melancholy feelings. The harder she pushed them down, down, down, the stronger they pushed back.
The sadness crashed over her like a tidal wave, too strong to avoid or ignore. Her eyes filled with tears that slowly spilled down her cheeks, dripping onto her lap. As Tempest fought to remain in control of her emotions, she noticed the pattering of rain on the rooftop.
Had she set this in motion? Caused a rainstorm that would shut down the festivities at the Boardwalk and force everyone inside? She hated that she had so little control over her power, her feelings. Every time they boiled over like this, she found herself raining on everyone else’s parade—literally.
The last storm witch in Tempest’s family had been a great aunt who had moved away and never returned. Her mother assumed the old woman had died somewhere out there in the wide world, all alone, with no one to contact their family. There had been no lessons for her about channeling her power, or about how to harness the power of the sea and clouds to her advantage.
Instead, she had stumbled through her childhood and teen years without support. The blind leading the blind, as they said —except it was worse than that, because her mother refused to even attempt to reach out to anyone who could help Tempest. Refused to soothe her when her feelings were too big for her to handle. Her mother often snapped at her for being too emotional.
Her sisters were calm, sweet, soft souls. Healers through and through. Viola, the middle daughter, looked exactly like their mother, with her dark brown hair and robin’s egg blue eyes. The youngest, Zinnia, took after the father they barely remembered, who had died in a boating accident when Tempest was only six years old.
Both were perfect copies of their mother’s anti-confrontational, avoidant personality. They valued the same things: appearances, status, and their gifts. The people of Crescent Cove praised them for their talent, their gentleness, and their soft-spoken way.
Tempest had never fit in there, not even a little bit. If someone was mean to one of her sisters growing up, she had always called the child out on it. She’d demanded they apologize. Her mother had chided her countless times for making a scene, drawing unnecessary and negative attention to their family.
When a boy had dumped Zinnia on her fifteenth birthday, Tempest had not hesitated to hunt him down and give him a piece of her mind. Instead of thanking her for standing up for her, her little sister had burst into tears. Zinnia insisting that Tempest had made things much worse and caused others at school to whisper about her behind her back.
“Damn it,” she spat out, wiping at her eyes.
