She stared down at herself and realized she was still in her underwear. She’d been entertaining a strange man who had broken into her property in nothing more than a bra and old panties.
Oh god. Had she lost her mind? She must have to be such an idiot.
“Damn it,” she muttered. She smoothed shaking hands down her sides and tried to pull herself together.
Her father had always seen right through her. He’d see her nerves from a mile away, and then he’d start asking questions. Questions she didn’t have answers to because she couldn’t tell him what she’d done.
Wet footprints stained the floor. Footprints that were much larger than her own. Clearly a man’s.
She needed to wipe them up. If he saw them...
“River!” Dad shouted again. “Seriously, we need to go shopping right now.”
“Why?” she asked. “What could possibly be so important that you got out of work early and require me to come with you?”
Her father stuck his head around the corner. “We’ve been invited to a benefit dinner. The kind of benefit dinner you need to dress up for, and also the kind where the governor of the entire state will be there.”
Oh no.
Her father always wanted her to go to these functions. Not because he thought she would like them, but because she was a bit of a spectacle there.
People loved to stare at her. The fingers were a big hit, but also because she was so small. Her father was six foot three on a bad day and was broader than most buildings. He was huge. She was tiny. They looked odd when they stood next to each other.
But he liked to show her off. He enjoyed it when people mentioned how cute his daughter was. Or how she was so small and was he feeding her enough? She was the tiny little adornment on his shoulder who made people come talk to them.
Sometimes, she thought about telling him how uncomfortable it made her. Sometimes, she wondered what would happen if she told her dad that she wasn’t a huge fan of him telling people to look at her hands.
But instead of saying a word, she wandered into her room and pulled clothing on over her underwear. It was still damp, but not enough water clung to the nylon fabric for it to soak through her sweater.
Even in the summer, she only went outside in oversized sweaters. At least if they were going into town.
She pulled black leggings onto her legs and then tucked her feet into boots. If she could pull the sweater all the way to her shins, she would. She’d wear gloves too if they fit over the webbing.
How many times had she begged her father to take her to a plastic surgeon? It wasn’t like he didn’t have the money. He did.
If she’d asked for a nose job, he wouldn’t have flinched. All the girls got nose jobs, at least in his eyes. But removing the one thing that made her different? Never.
River plodded into the living room where her father was already waiting for her. He tapped his foot on the floor, antsy even now.
He gave her a cursory look up and down before nodding. “Good idea. Those will be easy to get in and out of at the store. You’re always thinking, sweetheart!”
No, she wasn’t thinking ahead. She was trying to hide.
Sighing, River followed her father to the garage and got into his beloved Jeep. It was a throwback to the days when he was a wild young man who liked to zip around the sea cliffs.
Back to the time when he’d met her mother and fallen in love with a strange woman who would leave the moment she gave birth to River.
“You said the Governor will be there?” she asked, even though she didn’t care.
“Absolutely. And from what I’ve heard, his office is looking for a new head attorney.”
“Ah.” So that’s why he was all worked up. “I thought you were happy in your new office?”
“I am. But there are always fresh opportunities all over the world, and if this one pays better, then I’ll take it.”
Her father was always chasing a dream. He thought if he made more money, he’d be happier. If only he had more prestige, then he’d feel more fulfilled.
River was in her early twenties and she understood that wasn’t how life worked. Money didn’t equal happiness. And people’s respect didn’t mean he’d ever respect himself.
What her father needed was a nice lady who would make him feel more like a man. River couldn’t do that for him. She was his daughter, and that was gross.
But a new woman, someone who wasn’t the ghost of her mother, might do him a world of good. If he dated, maybe he’d realize there was more to life than money and responsibility.
Taking a deep breath, she stared out the window of the Jeep and wondered what her father would think of Archer. He was kind of like her mother, or at least, what she’d heard of her mother.
“Dad?”
“What is it, Sweetpea?” His nickname for her always made her smile. He said it was because she smelled like sweat peas when she was little.
River wasn’t so sure of that. She was pretty sure she’d always smelled of salt and the sea. But if he wanted to believe she smelled like Bath and Body Works, then he could.
“You always told me Mom came from the sea, but she didn’t... literally come out of the water, did she?”
He awkwardly laughed, his eyes darting to the other side of the car before he responded. “Why would you ask a question like that? Coming out of the actual sea is impossible.”
“Just a feeling,” she said. “Something I’ve been thinking about.”
The webs between her fingers burned, as if they were confirming her suspicion. She was different. She wasn’t like everyone else, and she’d always known that.
Other humans, the words whispered in her head. The strange man had only planted the seed in her head. Maybe there was another, more wondrous explanation of why she was so different.
Her father reflected on her words and turned into the parking lot of the store he preferred over all others.
Quietly, they sat in the running car for a few moments before he turned to her. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then cleared his throat. “Sweetpea, can I ask why you’re so interested in this all of a sudden?”
“I’ve always been interested in stories about Mom.”
“Yes, you have,” he replied while nodding. “But you’ve never asked a question so specific before.”
She should tell him about the strange man. She should let him know that someone knew where they lived, and that he’d already broken into their property once before. Archer could do it again. He’d practically told her he was going to because he wanted to see her again.
But the words stuck in her throat before she could get them out. Archer was her own little secret. And it felt good to have something to herself for once.
“I don’t know,” she muttered. “I guess I’ve just been wondering about my hands and if maybe I got them from her.”
Dad reached out and took her hands in his. He spread her fingers wide and stared down at the strange webbings River hated so much. “Your mother was a marvelous woman with so much heart. She had hands like yours, yes. And so much more.”
His words only gave her more questions to ask. What else did her mother have? Why couldn’t River have known this when she was very young? He kept secrets as if they had nothing to do with her life.
Before she could ask more, Dad opened the car door and stepped outside. “Come on, we have to find you something to wear that will stun everyone. I need my beautiful daughter by my side at the benefit!”
His beautiful daughter. Like she was only that person once he dressed her up.
River let out a brief sound of frustration before she opened her door and gave up. She could only push him so much before it just wasn’t worth it anymore. He’d get angry, and then they’d have to go back home like she was a spoiled child who had to be reminded shopping was a privilege, not something she was owed.
As if she didn’t know she lived on daddy’s money.
She stomped into the store and tr
ailed behind him as he headed straight for the women’s section. It was one of the smaller stores in her tiny town, but the tailor had once lived in France. No one knew why the old man came here of all places. Maybe it was because the sea had rejuvenating qualities. Or maybe he’d simply heard the siren song and moved without realizing why himself.
Either way, his clothing was incredible and very expensive.
Dad walked over to a frothy green dress and pointed. “This was the one I was thinking for the benefit. Try it on, will you?”
He’d already picked out her outfit? Like she was some kind of doll and he was the mastermind.
She snagged the dress and headed to the changing room without a word. Of course, he’d already chosen her outfit before coming to get her. Dad was ever so understanding about present day fashion, at least when it came to his daughter.
Perfection was the only thing he’d stand for. Especially in front of so many people who meant something to him.
She snapped the curtain shut behind her and pulled off her clothes. The mirror revealed more about herself than she wanted. The waif-like body with fragile ribs showing just enough for people to wonder if she was sick, or if she was a model. The webbed fingers that glistened in the light. Her dark hair that didn’t quite look natural with its oil-slick sheen.
Some people might find her beautiful, but most found her uncanny. Intimidating. Too strange to marry or to date, but interesting enough to keep around for entertainment. Or peel apart like a strange fruit they wanted to taste. Not to keep, but just to place on their tongue before they spat her out.
The waist of the dress tucked her sides in impossibly small. Chiffon flowed down from the ribbon around her waist, floating around her as though she was submerged in water. The A-line neck was modest, but still mysterious enough to make her chest look bigger than it was. Transparent short sleeves made her arms look like they were covered in waves.
It was a beautiful dress. And with the right makeup and hair, she’d look as though she had stepped out of the ocean, a goddess of the sea come to visit the people she loved.
Somehow, she didn’t think that was realistic. If there were sea goddesses, they’d be pissed at humans and try to hunt them down for all the harm they’d done to the ocean.
“How’s it look?” her father asked.
“Good, Dad. It’s a great pick.” She stepped out of the fitting room and spun before him.
He pressed his fingers to his lips and his eyes grew watery. “You look like your mother, River. When did you grow up?”
A long time ago, she wanted to tell him. So long ago that she couldn’t remember ever feeling like a child. Only the young woman who took care of her father.
Instead, she pressed her hands against the frothy fabric and smiled. “Thanks, Dad. So this is the one we’re getting?”
“Absolutely. You’ll catch everyone’s eye wearing a dress made of the sea.”
Yeah, that’s what she was afraid of.
6
Three days after their shopping adventure, River found herself walking down the path toward the ocean. She knew every time she did this, she was taking her life in her own hands. If her father was to be believed, of course.
But something called her to the sea. Some bone deep need to be by the ocean, listening to the waves.
And he hadn’t come back.
The strange man who had captivated her dreams, who had promised to find her, hadn’t come back.
Sure, three days wasn’t that long of a time. She was mooning over a man who had broken into her home to save her from a pool of water, most likely a lie. Still, she had hoped he wasn’t a liar like so many people she’d met before.
And River had been patient. She’d waited at the house, meandering around the kitchen and trying to forget he’d ever shown up in the first place. Then she’d started swimming in the pool far more than she ever had. Just to see if he would come and save her from the “dangerous” waters.
He never showed up.
So, like the lovesick child she was, she went down to the ocean with her sketchbook in her hand. Maybe a bit of art therapy would help get her head out of the clouds.
River hopped down onto the sand and plodded to her favorite spot.
It wasn’t like she had any reason to be fawning over this stranger. She’d only met him for a few minutes. And sure, he was very handsome. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t find someone else just as handsome in her lifetime.
As if. She lived in such a small town, it wasn’t surprising no one here caught her attention. She’d known every single one of them since they were children. How could she have feelings for someone she’d seen pee off a dock when he was twelve and seventeen? And knew he hadn’t grown much in that amount of time.
The mystery was gone once you’d seen that.
Shaking her head, she tried to focus on the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. Seagulls screamed overhead. The sand sucked at her feet, making soft popping sounds as she wandered toward the rocky outcropping where the seals liked to rest.
At least she knew she would be alone there. They wouldn’t mind her taking her spot in the distance and watching them. Some seals even posed when she arrived.
River liked to think they were her friends at this point. More so than most.
At the very least, they didn’t judge her for wanting a little quiet time to herself. Or some space to draw.
She sat down on the stones and pulled out all her art supplies from the bag that rarely left her side. This time, she hadn’t brought her favorite charcoal pieces. Something had told her to bring colored pencils today.
Maybe it was just that she wanted a little color in her life. She wanted to see the world in bright streaks of blue and green, rather than just black and white.
River didn’t waste any time. She dove into sketching the sea behind the seals and the poses they struck. She stuck her nose so close to the page, she probably had a smudge on her nose when she finally looked up again.
Drawing them felt strange today. Different. Almost as though she could hear them all murmuring in the distance. Not their usual grunts and groans, but actual words.
“She came back a little earlier than usual today,” one of the females muttered.
The male shifted and snorted. “Well, didn’t the King say he would find her? The girl who stares at us. Strange, she is.”
River would never stop marveling at her own mind. She could conjure up conversations with seals, even though she knew they couldn’t talk. Her mind so desired friends in her life, that she’d given voices to animals.
She needed to get out more. Really.
Every pencil line came to life. The sea almost seemed to move underneath her pencils as she traced the outlines of foamy waves and the rolling water. Even the rocks seemed more jagged on the page than it had in a long time.
Her mind slowed. All the worries and fears disappeared as she plunged into a painting of her own making. She wasn’t in the real world anymore. Just one she had made up.
In the far distance of the sea, she painted a man. Just the smallest outline of one, but he was definitely there. Watching the shore with a longing expression she couldn’t quite get right.
The page would need to be bigger for her to capture him. Maybe she could get a full sized canvas for this moment. She certainly wouldn’t forget it.
By the time she finished the sketch, the sun had moved to the other side of the horizon. At least a couple hours had passed, and her stomach grumbled in hunger. How long had she been out here?
She twisted, reaching for her phone in her bag only to find it had been moved. In its place, a tanned leg stretched out in the sand.
The squeak that came out of her mouth was both embarrassing and mortifying. She recoiled away from the man sitting next to her, only to have him grab onto her arm and steady her.
A flash of a white smile and ocean blue eyes relaxed her.
“Archer,” she breathed in shock. “How long have you b
een sitting next to me?”
“A while.”
Her cheeks burned. “Oh. Sorry.”
“You apologize a lot,” he observed. He released her arm, but his fingers stroked down her bicep before he let go. “I said I’d come back, didn’t I?”
She wanted to grump that it had taken him long enough. She’d been waiting for what felt like forever. Then he just shows up? On the beach?
She glanced around them as a question popped in her mind. “Where did you come from?”
No cars were on the beach, and no bikes either. He must have walked up to her, even though she couldn’t see footprints in the sand. There weren’t any other buildings on this side of the beach. Her father had bought most of the land and marked it private since he didn’t trust strangers.
Archer shrugged. “I’ve been around. Anyway, what were you drawing?”
She hugged the newest drawing to her chest. She didn’t like to show people her work. Every drawing or painting was intensely private. They were a piece of herself, and the thought of other people peering into her soul scared her.
Instead, she pointed to the view in front of them. “I like to draw the ocean.”
“Ah,” he murmured. Squinting his eyes at the seals, he added, “You could pick prettier subjects.”
The seals snorted and turned their backs to them. She swore she heard a swear float through the air before she shook her head and dispelled the thought from her mind.
“I think they’re beautiful,” she replied. “Seals have always fascinated me.”
“Why’s that?”
“They’re so free. And expressive in everything they do, almost like humans.”
Archer nodded at the harem. “Yeah, they are a lot more human than people give them credit for.”
She kept her eyes on the seals, and not at the man beside her. She knew, deep in her gut, that he hadn’t walked down the beach.
She was too far up the beach for the waves to wash away any marks in the sand. And, as she narrowed her eyes, she could see footprints near the seals. They approached her and led right to where he was sitting.
Had this man come straight out of the sea? Just like her mother had, supposedly.
King of the Sea Page 4