Deep Water (15 page)

After getting Griffin’s enthusiastic
agreement, he’d left the cottage and gone over to Nick’s cottage. Introducing
Aidan or Liam in their natural forms would have been the easiest way to fulfill
his offer, but both of the
mers
had already headed
off to work with his sons. Sighing, Poseidon had summoned one of the tritons
standing guard in the cove and sent him off to find a human-friendly mer.

Now the sea god stood ankle-deep in the
surf, searching the waters of the cove for a familiar shape. It suddenly
appeared, arrowing towards him.

A blonde head popped out of the water.
“Greetings, L—”

“My name is Dunn Seaton,
mer
,” Poseidon said quickly, cursing himself for not warning
the
mer
about his real name. “May I ask your name?”

The
mer
blinked
at him, but bowed her head. “I am Meghan, ranger with the Bright Water grotto,”
she said respectfully. “I was told there was a human here who wished to meet a
mermaid?”

Dunn gestured at Griffin, who was goggling
at her. “This is Griffin Moore, a personal friend of mine.”

As he’d hoped, she understood the meaning
in his words and swam closer to shore. With a burst of graceful strength she
hand-walked onto the sand, leaving her sinuous tail half-exposed. It shaded
from moss green at the waist to a deep royal blue at the fluke, and the scales
glittered in the Florida sunshine.

From the waist up she looked like a
healthy human female. Her curly hair turned a lighter shade of honey as it
dried, and her oval face featured large dark eyes and a kissable mouth. Her
arms and torso were sleekly muscled, and pert, conical breasts lay beneath a
cord necklace that bore beads with her grotto’s sigil and ranger ranking.
Poseidon wished now that he’d asked the triton to find a mermaid who wasn’t
quite so lovely.

She shifted a bit on the sand. “Hello,
Griffin Moore,” she said cheerfully. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Griffin’s jaw worked silently for a moment,
then he shook his head. “Sorry, sorry. I wasn’t … I mean, Dunn said that you
were real, but…” He trailed off, staring at her in a daze. “You’re so
pretty
.”

The mermaid beamed at that. “Thank you.
You’re quite handsome yourself,” she said, hitching around until she was
resting on one hip. “I like your hair—it looks like moonlight on the sea. Do
many humans have two hair colors like that?”

Poseidon stifled a chuckle as Griffin
brought a self-conscious hand up to his salt-and-pepper head. “Only when they
get old.”

“You don’t look that old.”

“I’m fifty.”

She laughed at that. “You’re just a baby.
I’ll be eighty-seven this midsummer.”

This time Griffin’s jaw dropped. “You’re
kidding me. You look like you’re in your twenties.”

Meghan glanced at Poseidon, who nodded
slightly. “
Mers
live longer than humans, and we age
more slowly,” she explained. “The head elder of my grotto is going on three
hundred years old, and she looks only a bit older than you.”

Poseidon stood behind his mate as Griffin
plopped onto the sand to continue his conversation with Meghan. He seemed
fascinated by
mer
society, either not noticing or
accepting the way Meghan deflected any questions about how her people had
remained hidden for so long. Poseidon wanted to give her permission to tell
Griffin everything, but that would bring up more questions that he wasn’t ready
to answer yet.

“This is amazing,” Griffin said, idly
digging his heels into the waterlogged sand. “God, I wish I could still dive.
I’d love to visit one of your grottos. Have you been to one?” he turned,
looking over his shoulder at Poseidon.

“A few times, yes,” the sea god said.
“They’re not overly fond of humans, however.”

“This is true,” Meghan said, tucking a
lock of hair behind one ear. The movement gave a lovely jiggle to her breast,
and Poseidon was glad Griffin was looking at him. “
Landwalkers
don’t have the best of reputations when it comes to other intelligent species.”

“No, I suppose we don’t,” Griffin said.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for that.”

Meghan gave him a gracious nod. Shifting
to
godsight
, Poseidon noted that Griffin’s energy,
boosted by breakfast, was starting to fade again. “How are you feeling?” he
asked.

“
Hm
?” His mate
blinked. “Oh. I’m a little tired. I didn’t sleep very well last night. Had
these weird dreams that kept waking me up.”

“Then you should go back to your home and
rest,” Meghan said, brow furrowing in concern. “If you wish, I can come back
tomorrow and talk with you some more.”

“Seriously?” Griffin looked like someone
had granted his heart’s wish. “That would be terrific, thank you.”

With one last glance at Poseidon, the
mermaid leaned forward and gave Griffin a kiss on the cheek. “Sleep well and
dream of swimming with me, Griffin Moore,” she said, winking.

Pushing back, she slipped into the water
again, breaching the surface once with her fluke in a wave before disappearing.
Poseidon realized he was gritting his teeth and forced his jaw muscles to
relax.
I’d forgotten that mermaids tend
to be shameless flirts.

The dazed smile on Griffin’s face didn’t
help. “That was the most incredible thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said,
letting Poseidon help him to his feet. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” Poseidon said, enjoying
the pleasure that radiated off his mate. “I’m glad that I was able to give you
the opportunity.”

He regretted his words the moment the
smile left Griffin’s face. “How
did
you do that, anyway?”

“It’s all part of that long, complicated
story—”

“Yeah, yeah, the one that needs booze and
dinner,” Griffin interrupted. “I’m not hungry, and I have some Scotch. Let’s go
back to the cottage and you can tell me all about it.”

You laid the trap
and walked squarely into it. What do you plan on doing now, Lord of the Waves?
“Well—” he began.

“Father?”

He turned, surprised and relieved to see
Aphros coming from Ian’s cottage. “Yes?”

“Hi. Hi, Griffin.” His son waved cheerily
at his mate. “The three of us were going to go over to Olympic Beach later on
and watch the fireworks. Would the two of you like to come along?”

“Fireworks?”

He heard Griffin snort. “It’s the Fourth
of July, you plonk. Even I know that.”

It’s the American
holiday of independence from Great Britain,
Aphros informed him.
They celebrate it with picnics and
fireworks.

“Oh. I must have lost track of the date,”
Poseidon said mildly.

Aphros’s eyes twinkled at his lie. “Ian
said driving there will be murder with all the traffic, so we were going to
take the boat. It’ll be a bit of a tight squeeze, but we should be able to fit.”

And there was Poseidon’s excuse. “It
sounds delightful,” he said. “Griffin, if you take a nap now I’m sure you’ll
feel up to sailing by tonight.”

The mortal shot Poseidon a dirty look that
said
I know what you’re doing, and you’re
a bastard for doing it.
“I suppose. We can always talk afterwards, can’t
we?” he said meaningfully.

Poseidon just smiled.

****

After a somewhat grumpy afternoon nap,
Griffin headed back to the blue cottage at dusk. It turned out that Ian had also
invited Nick and his
mers
to come along on the short
voyage to Olympic Beach, not knowing about Aphros’s invitation. Once the mix-up
was sorted out, it was decided that since they had two sailboats Nick and Liam
would sail on the
Seabird
with Dunn
and Griffin, while Aidan would sail with Ian, Aphros, and Bythos.

“Getting tonight off was a minor miracle,
seeing as I’m low man on the totem pole, but one of the other docs wanted the
extra pay so I let her have my shift,” Nick said to Griffin after showing up at
the dock with a cooler of food and beer. “I’ve spent enough Fourths in the ER
sewing up drunks and treating firecracker burns. Someone else can do the heavy
lifting this year.”

Griffin suspected that the doctor’s
presence on the
Seabird
had to do more
with the tumor in his head than anything, but he didn’t feel like fighting it.
He sat in the bow seat, fingering his life vest as Dunn guided the boat into
open water. It had been a number of years since he’d had the chance to go night
sailing, and he’d forgotten the sheer pleasure of watching the stars come out
like diamond dust scattered across black velvet.

It helped temper some of his annoyance
over not being able to sit down with Dunn and talk about how the big man had
gotten to be so pally with mermaids, not to mention how they were being
poisoned and turned into the kind of creature that attacked them on the island.
If the slippery son of a bitch thinks
he’s getting out of that explanation, he’s got another think coming.

Nick and Liam sat in the middle of the
boat, chatting about the upcoming fireworks show. “You’re going to love this,
Li,” the doctor said with enthusiasm. “Back in Chicago I always used to go out
to the lakefront on the Fourth to watch the fireworks. Granted, it was usually
during Taste of Chicago so there were fifteen million other people out there
with me, but it was still an absolute ball.”

“I’m sure it’ll be spectacular,” Liam said
fondly. “The videos on YouTube certainly looked impressive.”

“Haven’t you ever seen fireworks live before?”
Griffin asked.

Nick got a slightly odd look, but Liam just
shook his head. “We didn’t have them where I grew up.”

“Really? I thought all Americans loved to
shoot off fireworks.”

Now Liam had that same odd look. “I’m not
American.”

“Oh. Sorry. I just assumed. Canadian?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I know you’re not from the UK, and
you don’t sound like an Aussie or a Kiwi.”

The tall man grinned. “I’m from the Cayman
Islands. My parents emigrated there in the 70s.”

“Oh, nice,” Griffin said. “Being on the
water must be second nature to you, then.”

Nick choked on his beer, and Liam patted
him on the back. “Pretty much,” he said to Griffin. “You could say that I’ve
been on the water since I was born.”

Now Nick glared at his boyfriend.
“Anyway,” he said deliberately, “Ian said that we’ll be anchoring out past the
marina. Heather said something about joining us, but I don’t know for sure.”

They were getting yet another passenger?
“Who’s Heather?” Griffin asked, hoping he didn’t sound grumpy.

“She owns an antique store in town. Nice
lady.” Nick glanced over his shoulder at Dunn. “Although she’ll probably be on
Ian’s boat, all things considered.”

That caught Griffin’s attention. “Does she
know Dunn?”

“Yeah.” The boat’s running lights made it
difficult to judge Nick’s expression, but Griffin thought the doctor looked
uncomfortable. “Apparently they have some history. It’s probably best if they
stay on separate boats.”

The brief pang of jealousy Griffin felt was
embarrassing.
He’s a handsome bloke in
the prime of his life—of course he’s going to have old girlfriends. He also has
a wife, remember?

It was the fault of those damned dreams,
he decided. It didn’t help that some of them had been wonderful, sensual dreams
about swimming naked with Dunn in a moonlit lagoon. Somehow it had felt so
immensely right when the dream Dunn’s arms closed around him, pulling him in
for slow, drugging kisses that left him aching with desire. If he was still
able to get hard, he would’ve woken up with sticky sheets, and wouldn’t that
have been a hell of a thing to explain to the rental agency?

Of course, those were the good dreams.
There were also the horrible ones where he was in an echoing building of marble
being chased by a monster. Somewhere in the background he could hear a woman
shouting at both of them as he ran down pale corridors, heart thumping hard and
breath
whistling in his lungs. No matter how hard he
ran or how much he tried to escape, though, he always ran into a dead end. When
he turned, panting with dread, the shadowy monster would grab him, humid,
wine-sour breath prickling his face as the thing crushed him to the ground.

The weird thing was, the monster was
somehow also Dunn. Dream logic had cast his friend as both lover and attacker,
and he had no idea why.

He risked a look at Dunn. Between the
leanly muscled
body
, the thick, dark auburn curls
ruffling in the sea breeze, and the close-cropped beard, the man looked like a Greek
god dressed in modern clothes.

Griffin felt a little thrill.
All right, yes, the bastard is handsome,
and charming, and funny. And he definitely does something for you.
Not only
did he genuinely like Dunn, but
he
idea of going to
bed with the big man, wrestling in the sheets with someone as tall and strong
as himself, held a primal appeal that was surprising in its intensity.