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“Right. Have a nice day.”
She moves to shut the door in my face, but I plant my palm on the wood, stopping her.
“No, really.”
“I don’t know if you’re drunk, sick, or what, but I’m not a fisherwoman, Xander. I’m a writer. And I’m behind on my deadline. You pulled me out of my groove.”
“Please.” She pauses at the sound of my voice. “My crew is all off on other jobs since I decided not to work until after Samhain. I need an extra set of hands and a spotter. Just for a couple of hours. You know the work, Lorelei.”
“It’s been a really long time.”
“I know. And I know you don’t like being near me, but I promise to keep my hands to myself, and we will get the job done as fast as possible while still staying safe.”
She worries that plump lower lip for a second and then rolls her eyes, letting out a sigh.
“Fine. I’ll go change real quick. Give me ten.”
She closes the door and leaves me out on the porch, which is fine with me. I see her agreement as a huge win.
Could I do it alone? Absolutely. But it’s not the safest thing to do, and that would mean leaving the stubborn woman unprotected, and I’m not willing to do that.
Ten minutes turns into fifteen, but Lorelei finally steps out of the house in thick working pants and a green T-shirt under a heavy plaid shirt. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and she tugs a hat over her head and ears.
“You remember how cold it is on the water.”
“It’s miserable,” she grumbles as she steps around me, already pulling on her gloves. Her brow is furrowed in a scowl, and I want to kiss her there but shove my hands into my pockets instead. “But I remember what to do. Let’s get this show on the road so I can get back home.”
Happy to take my win, I walk beside Lorelei to her car. She drives us to the marina and my boat slip.
Less than thirty minutes later, we’re gliding across the water under clear blue skies, out to where my nets are cast, and my traps are anchored.
I glance over and see the love of my life with her head tilted back and her eyes closed. She’s soaking in the breeze coming off the ocean. If you looked up the term sea witch in the dictionary, there would probably be a photo of Lorelei.
The autumn sun shines on her face as we glide over the water, a handful of miles from shore.
“There are the first nets,” I call out, pointing ahead. Lorelei opens her eyes and nods, ready to help.
I pull in the lines for the next hour, making our way back toward land, and Lorelei helps me guide the nets over the deck to drop the fish we’ve caught.
My vessel is very small compared to most commercial fishing operations, but it gets the job done.
“Last one,” I call out as I pull up a trap and dump some lobsters onto the deck.
“Thank the goddess,” Lorelei replies, wiping the back of her sleeve over her forehead. “I’m going to have to take an hour-long shower to get rid of the fish smell.”
“Nah, just a regular shower will do it.” I grin at her. When she smiles back, it sucks the breath right out of me.
Once, long ago, I used to bring her out onto the water to make love to her. The magic we made together while pulling in the elements around us was always incredibly intense, and it became something I craved often.
She never complained. I think she loved it as much as I did.
Even as psychic as I am, I could never read Lorelei, and she could never read me. We knew each other, inside and out, but there was never a psychic link between us, and I often thought that was a good thing. I enjoyed the mystery with her because it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced with anyone else.
Now, I wish more than anything I could read her mind.
“Okay, what’s next?” she asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“We measure the fish and lobsters that look too small and throw back any that aren’t legal, then get everything we’re keeping into cold storage below. Then, we’ll head back. Shouldn’t be long. Thank you for the help. I mean it.”
“I always enjoy being out on the water,” she says with a shrug. But despite not being able to read her mind, I can see that something is bothering her.
“What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head, but I walk to her and take her shoulders in my hands.
“What’s wrong, Lorelei?”
“I’ve had a bad feeling all day,” she admits, her voice low as she glances around nervously. “Maybe it’s because of what happened at Lucy’s yesterday, and my mind is just playing tricks on me.”
