Page 9 of Hot Water

I take a deep breath, trying to keep calm. That’s exactly what I fucking did, but she has this all wrong. Frustration cuts through my soul as I search my mind for a way to make her understand. “I did look you up, yes. But it wasn’t about your family’s wealth or status. I needed to understand who you were, the little mermaid who saved my life and stole my goddamn heart all in one fell swoop. After your disappearing act, I needed to research you to figure out how to find you.”

Her posture softens slightly, but skepticism lingers in her widening eyes. “Why? Why go through all that trouble?”

“Because I felt a connection,” I say, stepping closer but stopping short of invading her space. “A connection unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.”

She looks at me, the silence stretching for what feels like an eternity. “And what do you expect to happen now?” she asks, softer this time, but still wary.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” I admit. “I just know I don’t care about your money or your status. Those things don’t define who you are to me. I was drawn to the person who selflessly risked her life for a stranger.”

A faint blush colors her cheeks, but she tries to hide it by looking away. “It’s hard to believe, you know. To trust that someone isn’t just seeing dollar signs when they find out who I am.”

I nod, understanding a bit more of the world she must live in. “I get it. You have every reason to be guarded. But I need you to know, from the bottom of my heart, that this isn’t about what you can give me. I just want to get to know you—Amelia, the person, the gorgeous little mermaid, not the heiress.”

Her eyes meet mine, searching for sincerity. “And what if I don’t believe you?”

“Then I’ll keep trying to prove it.” There’s no way I’m letting her get away now that I’ve found her. “I won’t push or rush you. I just want the chance to show you that my intentions are genuine.”

She studies me for a few more heartbeats before her stance relaxes a touch more. “Alright, Sinclair. You’ve got a lot to prove. But I’m willing to give you a chance.”

My heart lifts at her words. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

She motions to the couch. “Okay, let’s start with something simple. How about you tell me something about yourself? Something that’s not in an online search.”

I smile, relieved and eager to get this conversation over with so we can move on to other things. You know, like marriage and kids and all the things I plan to do with my little mermaid. “What do you want to know?”

She laughs, the sound light and genuine, easing the last of the tension from the room. “First off, I need to know the story behind your very interesting tattoo.”

Fuck me. I should’ve known my drunken frat boy mistake would come back to bite me in the ass at the most inopportune moment of my life. “Well, sit down and prepare yourself.”

She walks over to the overstuffed white sofa and sits on the far edge. “I’m ready.”

I sit across from her and chuckle, feeling a blush creep up my neck. “The infamous tattoo is a bit of a story.”

She leans in, eyes sparkling with interest. “I love a good story.”

“Alright,” I begin, settling into my seat. “So, this was back when I was in college. You know how it goes—young, reckless, and overly confident.” I glance at her, seeing the amused anticipation on her face. “One Saturday night, I drank my weight in beer with my frat brothers, and long story short, I ended up losing a bet.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this. “What was the bet?” How did I know she was going to ask that?

I sigh, shaking my head at the memory. “I let one of my frat brothers gloat me into an ax-throwing contest.”

Thinking back, I realize it’s a miracle I still have all my limbs after that insane stunt. “Of course, I was too drunk to hit the broadside of a barn, and my friend easily beat me. It was fucking stupid, and I would never have been so impulsive without all the alcohol pickling my brains. My frat brothers, ever the creative types, decided that my punishment would be to get a tattoo of their choosing.”

Her laughter is immediate, ringing through the room. “They definitely chose a unique design for you.” She grimaces and scrunches up her nose adorably. “What in the world made them choose that?”

Shaking my head in mock despair, I explain, “My family owns Midnight Industries.” Her eyes widen, and I realize she recognizes the name. “We have the largest chain of haunted houses, ghost tours, and costume companies in the United States. My friends knew how much I wanted to get away from the family business, and they thought it would be hilarious to ink a permanent reminder of one of our most popular rides on my back.”

Amelia’s eyes widen with realization, her laughter turning to a soft, understanding chuckle. “Oh, that’s cruel.”

“Yeah, it was a rough morning when I woke up and saw it in the mirror,” I admit, running a hand through my hair. “At first, I was furious, but then I realized… it’s actually kind of fitting. My whole life has been about trying to escape the shadow of Midnight Industries. That tattoo, in a weird way, became a reminder of where I came from and how different I am from my two brothers. Sterling, my younger brother, is CEO and managing partner in the company, and our youngest brother, Sullivan, is the head designer.”

“And what do you do?”

“I’m a silent partner.” Only family members know that I still own a third of the company since I don’t want my family’s connections to affect my position as sheriff.

“What does a silent partner do?” She frowns. “Sit at home and play video games while the money rolls in?” My little mermaid definitely has strong opinions about wealth.

“No. I actually let the money accumulate in a bank account. I donate quite a bit and let the rest earn interest while I live off my income from my actual job—Sheriff of the town of Midnight Falls, Texas.”

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