“I hope so.” AJ grinned at his grandfather, who chuckled despite himself.
When they walked into Mel’s, AJ wondered how the business survived. Only four tables were occupied, with another handful of people at the bar.
As she stood near the cash register sorting receipts, Sandra’s vivid red lips expanded into a wide smile. “Walt and AJ, how good to see you again. Sit anywhere, I’ll be right over.”
“Bring a pitcher of beer with you.” Grandpa pointed to the same table as last time. AJ followed, with Sandra not far behind, bearing menus and the all-important pitcher.
Surveying the menu, his grandfather said, “Your mother called last night to check up on you.”
AJ knew Grandpa intentionally avoided eye contact. As a father, he’d been vocal about his disapproval of his daughter’s unstable lifestyle. Always moving from one job to the next, one place to the next, one guy to the next.
“How is she?” AJ hadn’t spoken to her since she’d kicked him out nine months ago.
His grandfather inhaled deeply, as if bracing himself. “She has a new boyfriend.” The positive tone in his voice couldn’t have been more forced.
Great. Another one. Since AJ was little, the trickle of his mother’s boyfriends had grown to a steady stream. None stayed around long enough for him to become attached. None were worth attaching to.
Sandra interrupted with her clownish hair and crazy smile, gold bracelets jangling. “How are you boys tonight? Hungry, I hope.”
His grandfather kept his flirtations to a minimum, probably as anxious to get back to the conversation as AJ was eager not to. He ordered the same crab cakes, AJ didn’t much care for anything but asked for the California burger.
AJ downed his beer. “So how long has this one been around?”
Grandpa set his glasses atop his head, folded his hands before his chin. “Long enough to propose. They’re getting married.”
Laughter choked the beer in AJ’s throat. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
His grandfather’s steady gaze unnerved AJ. “She asked to have the wedding down here. Next month.”
He winced. “You can’t be serious.” It was just like Mom to throw a monkey wrench into things. And just when things were getting good.
Grandpa’s voice softened. “Call her, AJ. She would like to hear from you.”
Gulping the rest of his beer, AJ couldn’t indulge himself in drowning his sorrows. He had a date tonight. But the news tainted his good mood. A glance at the doorway further poisoned it.
AJ ducked his head. “Ah, shit.”
His grandfather glared at him.
From behind his glass, AJ said, “Sorry. But we’re about to have company. Again.”
His grandfather rolled his eyes as Chaz strutted to the table, his smile less ingratiating than usual.
Anger simmered below the surface of his pleasantness. “Well well well. AJ. Hello, Mr. Anderson.” He slid in the booth beside AJ without asking. “I’m so glad I caught up with youse.”
“We’re delighted as well.” Grandpa enunciated sharply, a move he used to counteract bad grammar in his students. Since his retirement, the world had become his student.
Chaz turned to AJ. “I been tryin’ to call you all day. Your phone not workin’?”
“Guess I forgot to charge it.” AJ sipped from his glass, his grip on it tight.
“Huh.” Chaz’s expression remained as unchanging as a mannequin’s, his smile as plastic. A slight twinge of his eyes was the only giveaway of his suspicion. “Well, I caught up with you now.” He shifted in his seat, his arm moved close to AJ’s.
AJ poured more beer, any excuse to shift away from the guy. He braced himself. Chaz would not be happy to hear AJ had other plans tonight, too.
Chaz studied AJ with keen eyes. “After dinner, maybe we could hang out some more.”
AJ kept his voice light, his expression blank. “No, can’t. I have to meet someone.”
Chaz’s lips went crooked, his eyes shone with anger. “What, another hot date?”
Finally, enunciation.
“Something like that.” AJ glanced at his grandfather, whose silence seemed menacing. For Chaz.
Chaz pressed his shoulder close to AJ’s, his voice low and urgent. “We still need to finish that thing. It can’t wait much longer.”
AJ narrowed his eyes, but forced a smile. “Not tonight. I’m busy.”
Sandra brought their food. “Oh, you’re back, too. How nice. Can I get you anything?”
Chaz pushed himself up. “I guess I’m not stayin’ this time.” His sharp gaze cut to AJ. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bye.” AJ reached to take his plate from Sandra.
Chaz turned on his heel and strode out of the bar as if late for an appointment.
Sandra’s lips fluttered in and out of a smile. “Everything all right?”
Grandpa gave her a wide smile. “It is now. Thank you, my dear.” After she left, he said to AJ, “Why do you hang out with riffraff like him? That punk reeks of trouble.”
“He keeps pestering me.” AJ bit into his burger, but his stomach churned. His grandfather was right. Trouble hung in the air even though Chaz had left.
“What ‘thing’ do you need to finish?” His grandfather cut his crab cake, but AJ felt his intense scrutiny.
“It’s nothing. Believe me, I don’t want to be around him any more than you do.” He scanned the Gulf’s horizon. “So when is she coming down?”
Grandpa paused his fork before his mouth, apparently as hesitant as AJ to continue the earlier conversation. “The twentieth of next month.”
AJ pushed angry thoughts from his head, questions about why his mother hadn’t told him about this guy, hadn’t told him anything. He needed a long walk to clear his head.
They finished their meal over small talk. AJ couldn’t wait any longer. He had to get out of here, get to the beach.
In the car, AJ’s knee bounced all the way home. He practically sprinted to his room and grabbed his guitar. “I’m going out.”
“Yes. So I heard.” Grandpa started to say something, then dismissed AJ with a wave.
Relieved, AJ shot through the door before Grandpa could think of some argument.
The blacktop baked through AJ’s soles until he reached the sand, which gave way to his strides and sprayed in his wake. Not until he climbed onto the rocks did he slow down, when he stood looking out over the waves shimmering in the setting sun.
Where was she? How far away? What if a shark went after her? Or a boat propeller caught her tail? Fear gripped him as he waited. He knew so little about her. Nothing, really, except her muscles were powerful enough to carry him away from the alligator in a matter of seconds, it seemed. As he’d replayed the events in his head last night, he concluded the second thud had resulted from her smacking the gator to unconsciousness. She had to be capable of defending herself from other things. She had to be.
He sat and cradled the guitar on his lap. After playing all day, his fingers were sore and needed a break so he could play tonight. With his eyes closed, he reviewed the list of songs, all great songs like the ones he played for her last night. He let the sound of the waves and gulls’ cries combine with the songs in his head. When a hissing noise mixed with the spray of the waves, he opened his eyes. The dome of the sky had turned deep blue, though a paler blue lit the horizon. He wondered what time it was. He’d left his phone off, but reached for it to check the time.
A girl’s giggle snapped his attention to the sea. He waited, afraid to breathe. “Cassiopeia?”
She burst from the waves like an angel taking flight. The full moon rising along the horizon illuminated her, made her look magical. Bracing her arms against her sides, her torso came out of the water, revealing the top of her tail, that seamless skin binding girl to fin.
“Hello, Andrew James.” Her smile teased, and her tone was playful.
Relief flooded him. “Oh, thank God.”
Confusion kni
t her brows. “Why do you say that?”
Did she not know about God? That discussion was too complex for tonight. “I worried maybe a shark had gotten you or something.”
She wriggled along the rocks to rest within two feet of him. “I can out-swim a shark any day.”
Her spunk made him smile. “I’m glad.”
“I’m glad you brought your guitar.” Her seductive tone made him catch his breath.
His muscles tensed, ready to take her in his arms. She hadn’t spoken about him that way, but his guitar. To be jealous of a guitar was crazy, but the way she looked at his made him envious, at least. Like she wanted to hold it. Probably like he looked at her. And it was, after all, his key to getting closer.
“Would you like to play it?” He thrust it toward her.
She jerked away at the sharp motion. Nervousness edged her laugh. “Shouldn’t I wait until I dry off a little? The wood might warp.”
“It’ll be fine.” He held it closer.
“AJ.” She squeezed her hair, and water fell freely. “I’m dripping wet.”
He slumped back on the rock. “I just thought, you know, we don’t have a lot of time. And it’s like a gift I could share–I want to share.”
Her dark eyes swept across him. “Give me your shirt.”
Lost in her gaze, he asked absently, “What?”
More pointedly, she repeated, “Let me wear your shirt. It’ll protect the guitar.”
“Oh. Good idea.” He set the instrument across his lap, pulled off his T-shirt and held it out. The breeze on his skin heightened his awareness of being half-naked. Or half-dressed. After all, Cassie wore nothing. His pulse surged at the thought.
Her eyes wandered across his bare shoulders, down his chest to his stomach.
Mesmerized, he took in every part of her, to commit every detail of her to memory. The smooth curve of her shoulders, the grace of her movements showing her sheer power. How the moonlight contrasted her dark hair and the pale blush of her skin. Her amazing eyes rimmed with full, dark lashes. The smooth curve of her tail as it rippled. The sway of her hips as she slid closer. Closer than she needed to.
He swallowed hard, trying to keep still, trying not to reach for her. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done. His chest swelled as he forced himself to take a deep breath, and wait. It had to be on her time. If she wanted.
As she reached for his shirt, the scent of salt water and something sweet as a flower wafted to him. A light scent, but intoxicating.
“Thanks.” Threading her arms into the sleeves, she lifted it over her head.
Her hair shifted, revealing part of her breast. His hand shot to the shirt, tugged it over her back.
She flinched away and glared at him.
He smiled nervously. “Just helping. It bunched up in the back.” He withdrew his hand, held it up in surrender.
She ducked her head, but he saw her smile. With one movement, she lifted her hair from beneath the shirt and let it cascade down her back. Grabbing the front of the shirt, she lifted it to her face. “I like this, it’s very soft. And it smells like you.”
He couldn’t be misreading her signs. Every girl he’d been with had given the same kind of signals, the type of cues to tell him she was interested. Sure, most weren’t as subtle as Cassiopeia, but still…
She held out her arms. “I’m ready.”
He watched her mouth move. Oh, he was ready, too.
“AJ,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Are you going to teach me to play or not?”
“Play?” he repeated dumbly. He thought she’d never ask. He leaned in, his lips parting, ready to devour hers.
Her head tilted, and her mouth twitched into a smile, then looked stern. “The guitar, AJ.”
She might as well have thrown a bucket of cold water on him. “Oh.” He laughed to cover his embarrassment. “Yeah, the guitar.” He lifted it from his lap.
She settled it across her as if she’d done it a thousand times. “Are there any easy songs? Something a beginning could learn quickly?”
“Well, there’s always Smoke on the Water.” He couldn’t imagine her playing that one. “No, really, the best thing at first is to get a feel for it. Start with a few chords, let your fingers strum across the strings. Damn, I should have brought a pick for you, so you wouldn’t hurt your fingernails.”
She strummed, and pressed her fingers around its neck. “My fingernails are fine. The metal’s a bit harsh on my skin, but I’ll survive.”
He gasped. “Metal. I forgot.”
She glanced up quickly, her eyes wide. “You forgot what?”
Oh, man. Now he’d frightened her. He shrugged. “My grandfather said mermaids don’t like metal.”
She tensed. “Why did he say that?” The playfulness left her voice.
Hoping to quell the awkwardness, AJ did what he did best with girls—he lied. “It was a long time ago. When I was growing up, he told me all kinds of mermaid stories.”
She sat unmoving, watching him intently. Waiting for a better explanation.
AJ had to move them past this awkward moment. “Bedtime stories, that’s all. Does it hurt too much? I could look for some vinyl strings. But they don’t have the right sound.”
She adjusted the guitar, left her questions unspoken, but her expression gave away her lingering doubts. “No, this is fine. Now show me a chord.”
He moved awkwardly to help her place her fingers on the frets. “You know, it would work better if I could sit behind you.”
She arched her brows in question.
“To be able to show you better.” And feel her next to him. Inhale her scent so far into his lungs, she’d always be inside him.
“All right.” She sounded unconvinced, but willing.
Like a spider, he moved his hands and legs to situate himself around her. “Ow. Damn rocks. Sorry.” He shoved a large flat one behind the rock she sat on, and extended his legs on either side. “There.”
He hadn’t counted on the effect her nearness would have on him. There she sat, wearing his T-shirt, her slim back covered by her long hair–it touched his legs, his crotch. He wanted to lay his face on it, slide his arms around her. Just hold her against him, and feel her breaths rise and fall.
“Show me a few basic chords.” She moved her arms mechanically trying to find the correct position.
He swallowed hard to focus. “First, relax.” He lifted her arms, swayed them up and down. “Don’t tense up or you’ll make it harder on yourself.”
She exhaled. “OK. I’m relaxed now. So I put my fingers here…” Her body arched over the guitar as she curled her hands around the guitar’s neck.
He leaned in, his head close to hers. “Here.” He laid his fingers lightly atop hers, adjusting them on the frets. He had to close his eyes to keep his head, keep from sliding his hands along her arms to her waist. He held his breath for a moment to steady himself.
She glanced back, but continued to pick out staccato notes. “You made it look so easy.”
“It’ll get easier. It takes practice.” He gave a nervous laugh. “A lot of practice.” He would practice with her every night, if she wanted.
Her shoulders flexed with her movements. The guitar made an awful sound as she strummed, a mashup of strings and a truncated chord. “Ugh.”
“Hey, relax.” Reflexively, his hands went to her shoulders and massaged.
She tensed further. “I should go,” she blurted.
He relaxed his touch, let his fingers slide along her shoulders and caress her back through the T-shirt. “No. Why? Come on, Cassie.”
Without looking at him, she set the guitar down. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Yes, you should. Please.” His hands went to her waist. He could never hold her there physically, but maybe with something stronger.
Her voice trembled. “I don’t belong here. I’m not supposed to be with… someone like you.” She twisted away from him, and moved toward the sea.
The st
ing of her words made his eyes water. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true, AJ.” She looked away, and brushed her hand against her nose.
He pressed toward her. “Listen to me. We can’t let other people decide who we should be with. I’ve never known anyone like you.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s no surprise.”
“No, I don’t mean that. Well, obviously, I’ve never known another mermaid.” He sighed, frustrated. “I’ve never known anyone who made me feel like this. No one ever made me look forward to getting up in the morning because I might have a chance to be with her.”
Straightening her back, she folded her arms and looked out over the moonlit ocean. Still wearing his shirt.
Her hesitancy encouraged him. “Someone who makes me laugh. Who challenges me.”
She glanced at him, her brows furrowed.
“You make me want to be a better person.” He ducked his head. “There’s a lot of room for improvement, I know. But give me a chance to be that person.”
Sadness filled her eyes. “I have to go.”
He closed his eyes as she took off his shirt. The warm cotton fell across his clenched fists. He grasped the fabric. “Will you come back?”
Blinking fast, she looked away. “I don’t know.”
“Please. You have to.” He reached for her arm.
She shrank from his touch. “If I can.”
“I’ll wait for you. Here.” A feeling crept on him, a panic that this was the last time he’d ever see her. “Because otherwise, I’ll have to come look for you.”
“What?” She turned, alarm in her face. “Don’t be stupid. You’d drown.”
He shrugged. “Guess you’d better come back, then. Or I’ll be out there swimming as far from shore as I can. And who knows what might happen out there? A shark could come along. I could get exhausted from swimming and just… sink.”
Her mouth dropped open as she searched his face. She could tell it was a bluff, he knew, by the way her expression softened. “I’ll try. That’s all I can promise.”
He brought the shirt to his face to cover his happiness. “See you tomorrow.”
“Maybe,” she said emphatically. But he caught her smile as she made her way to the edge. She turned back once, then slid into the water.
Surfacing Page 7
