Blazing Bedtime Stories, Volume VI

by Tori Carrington

  Fear struck Daphne to the core as Kieran’s eyes drifted closed and he went limp, sinking deeper.

  She pulled on him and kicked, but it was no use. They were too far from the surface for her to pull him.

  If at any time she wished she could change into a mermaid, it was now. Only, she couldn’t.

  Still, she wasn’t ready to give up…

  She frantically looked around, trying to summon help. Surely not all of her mermaid abilities had disappeared. A friendly dolphin would be perfect right about now. Or even a fellow mermaid.

  Nothing.

  It was getting darker.

  She kicked harder, but her lungs were beginning to burn.

  When had she become completely human? And why?

  Had simply longing to trade her fins for legs in order to be with the man she loved, been enough for her to lose her privileges? If so, why hadn’t she been told?

  Her heart grew heavy in her chest. Not at the prospect of physical death. But of the death of what had just begun to grow between them.

  Such love…

  Such passion…

  Such promise…

  She held Kieran close and closed her eyes.

  The jerk on her arm was so insistent and unexpected she opened her mouth and took in water.

  She stared at the person doing the grabbing.

  Mom?

  Cecelia clutched Daphne’s jacket in one hand, Keiran’s shirt in her other, and pushed upward, her long, strong tail giving her the power she needed to propel them both to the ocean’s surface.

  Daphne sputtered and coughed, staring at her mother in shock even as she struggled to keep Kieran afloat. With Cecelia’s help, they got him back to the schooner where Daphne performed CPR on him.

  “Please,” she whispered between aspirations, afraid it was too late.

  “He’ll come back,” her mother said.

  Daphne met her gaze, hoping she was right.

  Finally, Kieran coughed up the water he’d taken in and blinked his eyes open.

  Daphne held him so tightly she couldn’t breathe.

  And was suddenly afraid he couldn’t, either.

  “Sorry,” she said softly, releasing her hold. “Are you going to be okay?”

  He nodded, continuing to cough as he lifted himself to his elbows and leaned to the side.

  As much as she hated to, she moved slightly away from him to look to where her mother had gone back into the water.

  “You. Me. We need to have a talk,” she said.

  Her mother merely smiled. “I look forward to it.”

  Then she sank beneath the surface and swam away.

  “Gardenias…”

  She looked back at Kieran, who she decided must be hallucinating. “What?”

  He smiled at her. “You saved my life. Again.”

  She held him close, held him tight, knowing that whatever she might have done for him, he’d done ten times over for her.

  And she looked forward to making him understand that in every way possible….

  Epilogue

  A month later…

  “I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE you kept it from me all these years,” Daphne said as she and her mother skimmed through the sweet blue waters of the Pacific under the hull of the schooner. “The fact that you could still transform.”

  “I still can’t believe you bought Magda’s tale. She’s been trying to sell that story forever.”

  Daphne couldn’t believe it, either.

  “And I won’t even mention what you did to yourself that day.”

  Daphne couldn’t think about that awful, humbling stretch in the water, when she’d nearly lost Kieran, without feeling that blinding fear all over again.

  Had she really been so overwhelmed she’d allowed herself to believe she’d lost her power?

  Yes, she had.

  She was happy to say she’d quickly overcome that, however.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked her mother.

  She hadn’t had an opportunity to really talk to her mother, since that day. She’d been preoccupied with trying to absorb all that had happened and adjusting to her new life—not only accepting Kieran’s proposal of marriage, but getting married a week ago at a small ceremony at her parents’ home, attended by only a handful of family and friends.

  And, of course, there’d been the weeklong honeymoon on the schooner where they had to remind themselves to take breaks from lovemaking to eat.

  “About Magda?” her mother asked.

  “No. I mean, yes, that, too, but mostly about your remaining a mermaid.”

  Cecelia didn’t speak for a long time and their pace slowed.

  “Your father and I talked long and hard about this when you were born. Of course, he knew what I was, what I am.” She smiled. “But it was important to us both that you be allowed to make your own decisions.”

  “But how could I make an informed one if I was lacking important key information?”

  “But you had all the information you needed.”

  “Did I? Because I’m thinking I didn’t. Had I known I could remain a mermaid…”

  “A swim every now and again does not a mermaid make.”

  “Yes, but you’re not completely human, either.”

  Had she known the decision she’d made when she was sixteen and the confirmation ceremony were mere traditions and not true mandates, well, things would have unfolded much differently.

  Of course, considering what had transpired in the time since, perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to contemplate changing a single thing.

  “Maybe…” her mother admitted.

  They shared a smile and then whipped around a bit, chasing each other then circling back to Come Sail Away, where both of their husbands waited.

  Daphne went first, transforming and grabbing a waiting towel before climbing up the ladder. Her mother followed a moment later.

  On deck, she slipped into a swimsuit under the towel. Kieran came up behind her and kissed her neck.

  “Nice swim?”

  “Very.” She smiled and held his head against her before turning and kissing him.

  She shivered in instant need.

  “Not in front of the parents, please,” she heard her father say from the bow where they would be having breakfast.

  Daphne kissed Kieran again in a way that was borderline parent proper.

  “Payback for all the times I had to watch you and Mom growing up,” she told her dad.

  She gave her husband a nice butt grab for good measure, earning her a laugh from her mother and a groan from her father.

  She took the juice and coffee carafes from Kieran and put them on the table. “What’s for breakfast?”

  “So long as it’s not fish, I’m in,” her mother said.

  They all laughed.

  “I’m about to make the eggs now. Want to give me a hand?” Kieran asked.

  “Love to.”

  They began moving toward the hatch.

  “We’d like to eat sometime this morning,” her father called out.

  Kieran chuckled and the moment they were below deck, grabbed Daphne and kissed her senseless.

  She leaned against him, gasping for air, wondering if there would ever come a time when he wouldn’t affect her so powerfully. When one of his kisses wouldn’t be enough to make her forget who she was and what she was doing.

  She wanted nothing more than to edge him back toward the main cabin, push him to the bed that bore the pearl, her pearl, in the middle of the custom-made headboard, straddle him until her thighs ached and she was incapable of doing anything but lying across the bed whispering incoherently.

  He slowly ended the kiss and pressed his nose against hers. “Eggs.”

  “Mmm…yeah. Eggs.”

  He groaned and kissed her again. “Remember the other day…? I want to try it again…”

  She smiled at him suggestively. “Later.”

  She knew exactly what he was talking about. They’d made l
ove while she’d been a mermaid and it had been…

  Mmm…

  She lost herself in his kiss, looking eagerly forward to not just tonight, but tomorrow, and the years after that… .

  Happily ever after.

  Now that was her idea of a fairy tale….

  * * * * *

  Off the Beaten Path

  Kate Hoffmann

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  1

  GRETA ADLER QUICKLY flipped through the slides for the client presentation, saying a silent prayer that everything was in order. Sunrise Airlines would be a perfect client for the agency—and she’d be the perfect senior art director for the account…once they got the account.

  Her stomach fluttered nervously. She’d been aiming for the promotion for months now, but it never seemed to be the right time. This presentation was her chance to show Rich Johnson, Bob Jacobs and the rest of the management team at Johnson-Jacobs Advertising that she was ready for more responsibility.

  Rubbing her eyes, she fought a wave of exhaustion. She and Alex Hansen, the account manager, had fine-tuned the details of the multimedia show until the wee hours the previous night and she’d only managed an hour or two of sleep before she jumped out of bed and headed for the office.

  “Just don’t screw up,” she whispered to her laptop, “or I will throw you into rush-hour traffic in downtown Denver and you’ll be nothing more than scrap metal.”

  “That’s the way to keep your electronics in line. I put my iPod in the freezer when it acts up.”

  Greta turned to see Alex enter the conference room. She ignored the tiny thrill that raced through her at the sight of him, writing it off to nervousness. As always, he was dressed beautifully, in an expensive suit and silk tie. Greta thought Alex Hansen was by far the sexiest man on staff at Johnson-Jacobs Advertising, and every other woman on the twenty-seventh floor was in complete agreement.

  Alex placed his hand on her back and rubbed gently. “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “We’re ready.”

  Greta drew a ragged breath. His touch sent a rush of warmth through her body. This was crazy! Where was this sudden attraction coming from? They’d been friends for seven years—well, seven years minus one night of drunken passion. And until recently, she’d never felt anything more than warm affection for him.

  “I’m—I’m just tired,” she said. That was it. Exhaustion was scrambling her emotions. “Maybe we should transfer the file over to your laptop. Mine is so temperamental.”

  “Don’t worry,” Alex repeated with a grin. He stood beside her and counted through the presentation folders. “Everything will be fine. We’re ready. We’ve covered all our bases and they’d be crazy not to go with us.”

  Greta nodded. She could always depend on him to calm her nerves, no matter what the situation. In truth, maybe she’d come to depend on him a bit too much. After watching her parents’ marriage dissolve in front of her, she’d been reluctant to put complete trust in any man. But with Alex she had a loyal friend and a dependable man. He’d been with her through unwelcome rodents, plumbing disasters, weeklong bouts of influenza and a variety of breakups.

  They’d started at the agency together seven years ago—she right out of art school and he out of an MBA program at Colorado State. A casual acquaintance at work had grown into a playful camaraderie, which had blossomed into a mostly platonic relationship that their friends still questioned.

  It was all very simple. She just wasn’t his type and he wasn’t hers. Alex liked tall, leggy blondes and she was small and brunette. And Greta still searched for that one perfect man who was looking for a real relationship, not just a few weeks of great sex followed by a quick breakup.

  Two single people of the opposite sex could be best friends if there was no reason to become lovers. It had worked until one drunken night four years ago. But that slip had been an aberration, a mistake they both regretted and quickly put behind them.

  Even though that night was just a hazy memory, Greta had found herself trying to recall it again and again lately. Over the past year, something had changed. With every woman that waltzed into Alex’s life, she felt increasing pangs of jealousy. And she didn’t think it was entirely one-sided. Alex had turned a little bit more possessive lately, too. There had been moments when Greta had questioned whether they were slowly growing apart as friends or whether something fundamental had shifted between them.

  Maybe she was finally ready to admit the reality of their situation. Sooner or later, Alex would meet the woman of his dreams and she’d be left out in the cold. She couldn’t imagine any new bride appreciating her husband having a female best friend.

  “Aren’t you nervous?” she said.

  Alex leaned close, playfully bumping her shoulder. “You’ve done a really good job, Adler. You deserve a lot of credit. And I think you’re going to get exactly what you want.”

  “A rich boyfriend with a private jet and a vacation home in Belize?” she asked.

  “That’s what you want?” Alex asked.

  “Every girl wants that,” she murmured. “That and zero-calorie ice cream, designer shoes that don’t pinch and hair that fixes itself in the morning.”

  “I was talking professionally. I think they’re going to promote you to senior art director.”

  “Really,” Greta said, grabbing his arm. “And you know this how?”

  “Because Bob Jacobs called me into his office an hour ago and asked if I thought you deserved it. I said yes. I told him you’ve been ready since you handled the Besconi Pasta presentation.”

  “Thank you,” Greta cried. She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a fierce hug. He was such a good friend and she’d be a fool to change that now. But as she drew back, her cheek brushed against his. They froze, their lips just a few inches apart.

  Greta’s heart slammed in her chest and she felt her knees wobble. It wouldn’t take much to kiss him, she mused. All she’d have to do was just…

  “No problem,” Alex murmured. He gently stepped back, his hands smoothing along her upper arms.

  Blood rushed to Greta’s cheeks and she laughed. “You wanted to kiss me, didn’t you?” Okay, so maybe that was wishful thinking.

  Alex gasped. “What?”

  “Don’t try to deny it. For a second there, you forgot who I was and you were ready to dive right in for a little action.” She sent him a playful look and tried to calm her racing heart. This was the way they communicated, teasing and taunting each other. Never really saying how they felt about each other.

  “Well, aren’t you full of yourself. You’re on the verge of a promotion and all of a sudden you think everyone in this office wants to jump your bones.”

  “Yes, well, I am going to be a senior art director. That does add to my sex appeal. However, since there is a strict agency rule against fraternization, consider yourself lucky that you didn’t kiss me.”

  It was a silly rule, instituted in part because of a very messy affair the agency president, Rich Johnson, had had with a junior copywriter six years ago. As a condition of his second marriage—to the copywriter—his new wife insisted that employees involved in romantic relationships be subject to immediate termination.

  But the agency regulations weren’t all that was stopping them. She and Alex had developed their own set of guidelines, rules they’d both followed since that one night together. She hadn’t allowed herself more than the occasional fantasy about her best friend since then. And any sexual tension that cropped up was laughed away.

  She drew a deep breath. “Thank you for speaking up for me, Alex. I do appreciate it.”

  “No problem,” Alex replied, his gaze capturing hers. They stared at each other for a long moment and Greta fought the temptation to reach out and run her fingers through his thick, dark hair. He was an impossibly handsome man. A
woman would have to be blind not to see that.

  When he wanted to, Alex Hansen could be sweet and thoughtful and funny, the best friend any girl could ever have. And though most people might consider their relationship a bit odd, Greta didn’t care. He’d always been beside her, at the important moments, through the ups and downs of a string of not-so-great boyfriends…through an awful health scare when she found a lump in her breast…through the unexpected death of her father.

  She couldn’t imagine not having him around to depend upon. But the closer they both got to their thirtieth birthdays, the more Greta had to wonder about their future together. They wouldn’t always be unattached. But who would be the first to find real love? With her track record, Greta suspected it would be Alex. And when the time came, she’d give him up, as gracefully as she could.

  “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Greta said. “In a purely platonic way?”

  Alex chuckled. “Yes. You tell me all the time, Adler. You’re the only woman who can say that to me without sending me running for the bathroom window.”

  “You’ve crawled out a bathroom window?”

  “Twice,” he said. “Remember my broken ankle? That wasn’t from a pick-up basketball game.”

  “You lied to me?”

  “I was ashamed. We have to have some secrets between us, Adler. I have a reputation to protect.”

  “I’m your best friend,” she said. “We’re supposed to tell each other everything.”

  “You didn’t tell me about that time you thought you were pregnant,” he said.

  “How did you know about that?” Greta whispered, warmth creeping up her cheeks again.

  “I saw the box for the test when I took out your garbage before your Super Bowl party. I figured if you wanted to tell me, you’d get around to it.”

  “Well, it was negative,” she said, “so there was nothing to tell.”

  “So, we’re agreed that, even if we are best friends, we don’t have to tell each other everything, right?”

  “Agreed,” she said. It wasn’t good to share everything. They couldn’t be friends if one of them wanted to renegotiate the rules. Or if one of them was falling in love with the other. And it wasn’t as if she was madly in love with him—she was just slightly confused right now and only occasionally attracted.