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I exhale slowly. “I don’t know the call you’re talking about. I didn’t do anything to make you come, at least not on purpose. And if you don’t want me here, just take me back.”
I bite my bottom lip, suddenly feeling vulnerable. That fierce strength I felt moments ago is gone in a flash.
I may be able to project confidence, but inside I’m scared of rejection.
Scared of not being enough.
The sweet one shakes his head. “Hey, there, Harlow, don’t cry.”
I sniffle and maybe it’s because it’s so cold or maybe it’s because I suddenly realize how very far I am from home. Or maybe it’s because I want this: them, this night, this chance... and I’m scared it’s going to be carried away like the waves at low tide, moving farther and farther from my grasp.
“I’m fine,” I say, blinking fast, wanting to muster up the small kernel of strength I know must be deep in my belly.
“You are not fine,” the one with a crooked smile says. “Let’s get you into some warm clothes, for starters.”
I nod, my shoulders relaxing. “What are your names?” I ask.
They tell me, and I listen, watching their dynamic and realizing they are more than teammates. They are like a family. Razzing one another and taking it in good humor.
They are all quite different, Crew has the body of a weightlifter, his shirt tight around his thick biceps, his eyes the color of the palm tree leaves swaying back on the shore. He isn’t steady--not rooted in much, that’s for sure. And every word he utters is laced with innuendo.
It’s not lost on me.
And West, he laughs easily but with his crossed arms it’s clear he has a chip on his shoulder. His blond hair is cropped short and the tattoo on his forearm reads Lost at Sea.
Eric is gentle and kind, with dark hair and blue eyes, the kind of man who would never break a woman’s heart. Instead, he’d be almost too gentle with it. When he knelt before me after I first landed on their boat, he looked at me so sincerely it almost hurt.
Then I look at Kai, so classically handsome and cynical as hell. I swallow as I take him in, remembering how moments ago I was pressed against his chest. How for a split second, with his arms wrapped around me, I could breathe.
Now, I blink, trying to keep their names straight.
“Are you overwhelmed?” Eric asks. “That was a lot of information.”
“I’m okay.” I shiver though, and they seem to remember that they promised to warm me up below the bow of the boat. “I’m so sorry,” I tell them, a tear falling from my eye. “I don’t know what happened. It felt like I was getting swallowed up by the sea.”
“Don’t apologize, Harlow,” Eric says. “We’re glad we found you when we did.”
West takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine like we’ve done this a thousand time. When I catch his eyes, he must see the question.
He smiles slowly like he knows something I don’t. “Besides, it’s not every day we meet a mermaid,” he tells me.
I shake my head. “I’m no mermaid. I’m just a long way from home.”
“No, you’re a siren,” Kai says following us below deck. He presses his hand against my back and a tingle rolls up my spine. “And sirens belong to the sea. You aren’t going anywhere tonight.”
I see Eric shoot him a look that says slow down, but I like Kai’s confidence. His wanting me here.
Because the truth is, as I step into the cabin, a warmth envelops me. The dark wood is glossy and there’s an overhead light allowing me to see each of the men’s features more fully. They are gorgeous, ripped, and clearly spend a lot of time on the water, just like me. Their skin is sun-drenched, and their hair has lightened in the way only the sun can do. They’re in t-shirts and shorts, but their biceps are big, and they must spend a lot of time working out to make bodies so... able.
West lets go of my hand, and I find myself standing before all four men. They watch me like they can’t keep their eyes off me.
They say I called to them. With a shaky hand, I press my hand to my neck, realizing for the first time my voice is scratchy, my voice hoarse.
I called to them.
And they came.
And now they look at me with a wanting I understand.
The energy in the room intensifies as we look at one another, like we’re deciding what happens next. And the strangest thing is happening. It’s like they are waiting for my lead. Like, however, I play my cards, they will follow suit.
It’s like they are mine and we’ve only just met.
I want this.
All of it, whatever all of this is.
