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Halie huffed and crossed her arms. It was late afternoon here, and the breeze raised the tail of her shirt and reminded her she was wearing no underwear. Nudity was natural to the sea folk, but humans were weird about it, so she slipped her underwear out of her shirt pocket. She bent at the waist and raised her left foot. Teetering on one leg, she bunched the panties and aimed for the leg hole. Her foot was covered in wet, sticky sand, which shouldn’t touch the panties’ crotch, unless she was into crazy itching—which she wasn’t.
Her foot had almost cleared the leg hole, when she caught a glimpse of something approaching fast. She looked up. The dog was coming at her at full speed.
Halie thrust her foot down, but the heel got snagged in her panties. She swayed and managed not to lose her footing. Until the dog jumped on her.
Halie’s bare ass hit the sand, as the dog proceeded to thoroughly lap at her face.
“Hey. Stop this. No.” But she couldn’t stop laughing at the glee with which the dog bounced around and barked between doggy kisses.
“Buffy, get back here. Where are you?” The deep male voice came from further up the beach, and Halie saw a handsome, fair-skinned man coming down the stairs of a house, shoulder-length blond hair flopping with each step. He had to be who the sea hag sent her here to meet.
She stuffed her underwear back in her pocket and hurriedly ran her fingers through her hair, trying to tame the matted tresses, all the while keeping the happy beast at arm’s length.
“I’m sorry. Is Buffy bothering you? He doesn’t bite.” As if he had to tell her. The only danger here was of being licked to death.
She managed a loose hold on the dog’s snout. “I’m fine. I’m just... Is this your beach? I didn’t know, and I thought a swim was a good idea.”
“My—? No, there are no private beaches here.” He leashed Buffy, who sulked behind him, and then gave Halie a proper look.
His eyes widened, and his cheeks reddened.
Halie followed his gaze to her chest. Her nipples were clearly defined despite the waning light, the water rendering the shirt practically see-through. Shit.
No. This was good. She was supposed to be beguiling, and boobs were expert beguilers.
“I... Umm... Can I get you a towel? No. You probably want to be alone.” The man covered his eyes with his palm and shook his head. When he looked at her again, his gaze didn’t stray from her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to gawk, but you’re beautiful.” He was adorably awkward, and she couldn’t bite back a smile. If she couldn’t have Delphinos, this guy might do.
Her mood soured. “I didn’t think this through,” she said with a scowl that didn’t take much to fake. “Actually, I could use a towel. I’ll return it in the morning.”
“Of course. Yes. Do you want to come shower at my place and dry up?” He rolled his eyes. “What am I saying? I’m a stranger. You shouldn’t go into strangers’ houses.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m rambling. I don’t usually ramble. Or invite random women over for showers. Sorry. I’m an idiot.”
Halie gave him her most seductive smile. “I think it’s cute.”
“Cool. Yeah. A gorgeous woman practically lands on my feet, and I go for cute.” He tugged his dog closer and cleared his throat. “I’m Anthony,” he said, “and this is Buffy.”
“Isn’t Buffy a girl’s name?” she asked.
“I didn’t realize he was a he when I named him. He was tiny, and I was always useless in biology. I thought... it was his belly button.” Anthony snorted. “And if he and I haven’t freaked you out too much, we’d like you to join us for a late coffee or a glass of wine at our place.” His newfound self-confidence faltered. “If you have nothing better to do.”
“As a matter of fact, I lost my job yesterday, so I have absolutely nothing on my planner.” Halie made to stand, but for the first time in forever, she felt too vulnerable, practically naked in front of a man. She’d been the seductress and the ingénue more times than she cared to remember, using her body as a weapon to win men over but never giving in to their advances, yet now she felt like she was showing Anthony something she shouldn’t be sharing.
Or maybe she was shy because he was The One, and she just didn’t know it yet?
“So?” Anthony’s eyes were a pale blue, and the crinkles at the corners showed he smiled a lot. She liked him.
“I don’t drink”—wouldn’t make that mistake again—“but I do appreciate a good cup of coffee,” she said with a grin. If things went as they should, Anthony would be enamored with her before the evening was over. “Give me a second, to rinse off the sand?”
“Take your time. I’ll take Buffy home, hose him down, and start up the coffee maker. Come find us when you’re ready.”
Washing the sand off her hair in the shallow water without getting fully submerged wasn’t easy, so she went deep, turned into her true self, and then back to human form, and put on the panties on her way out. The cool sand clung to her feet with every step, as if meaning to keep her from her destiny. Was the whole world against her doing what was right?
She climbed the stairs to Antony’s porch and knocked on the white door.
“Come right in,” he yelled from the other side.
She called back, “I’m dripping. I’ll make a mess.”
Antony threw open the door and waved off her concern. “Do you think I fly to the bathroom from the beach?” He pointed at one of the bar stools by the kitchen counter. “Make yourself at home. Unless you want to take a shower first? I can get you dry clothes.” He looked horrified. “I’m being cute again, aren’t I?”
Halie laughed, and she didn’t even have to try. Anthony made her feel comfortable. She tiptoed her way in, careful not to make too much of a mess. “I’ll take you up on all of that,” she said.
She showered quickly and pulled on the T-shirt and shorts he left out for her. She was happily surprised that he made no effort to see her naked but waited for her in the kitchen with two steaming cups of coffee.
“How do you take yours?” he asked.
“With six sugars, please.” Immortality had its perks, including a metabolism that allowed her to eat anything she wished.
He arched both eyebrows, but didn’t comment before sweetening her cup and handing it over.
“You’re the first person ever not to say something about how bad white sugar is for you.”
He ducked his head, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “I was trying to come up with a joke about how drinking a lot of sugar must be why you’re so sweet, but it would sound lame.”
She laughed again. “It really would.”
“I know, right? I’m glad I didn’t say anything stupid.” He grinned.
Maybe this would work.