Page 16 of Beauty and the Beach

“You just keep saving me.” Ana hugged him. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“I don’t know, but it must have been something pretty bad for Kanaloa to stick you with me.”

“Who’s Kanaloa?”

She had to grab on to him tight when he almost dropped her. “He’s the god of the ocean.”

“Oh, right. Him.”

Makoa perched her on the counter by the refreshments. “We’d like a large popcorn extra butter.”

“And a box of red vines.”

“Good choice.” Makoa nodded. “You want a slushie?”

“Diet coke,” she said. “I don’t want to drink my calories.”

“With all the swimming you do, you don’t need to watch out for that.” Makoa paid for the snacks and then scooped her up again. “You’re going to have to take the stuff. I don’t have a free hand.”

“No problem,” she said, balancing the candy on her stomach, and carrying the soda and popcorn in each hand.

Makoa gently carried her up the stairs to their seats. She could get used to this. He placed her on the seat and helped her get settled with her feet up and the snacks in easy reach. “What time do you have to be back?”

“Don wants us in the water by five, so I should probably leave about an hour before.”

“Us? You and me? I told you. I don’t want to be a merman. I mean, maybe for a day or so...”

“No, no.” She laughed. “Me and the other women.”

“There’s more mermaids in Maui?”

Easing back in her recliner, her foot throbbed less when it was elevated. “There’s nine of us, merry mermaids in Maui.”

“That’s a lot of M's.” He smacked his forehead. "I should've gotten some M&Ms."

“Ha ha. There's nine of us because of the nine Greek muses.” She sighed in relief from the lack of pain in her ankle. The recliner chairs were wide and were better than the ones in her apartment. Makoa sat next to her, their thighs touching. It was almost like being in a living room. And then a few people wandered in and took seats down front. That ruined the illusion of privacy, but Makoa wanted to sit in the back row. And since he carried her all the way up here and wasn't even breathing hard, she was impressed with his strength.

“Which muse are you?”

“Eros, the muse of love poetry.”

“You certainly inspire me.”

“Are you going to write me a love poem?”

He winced. “Do I have to?”

“No,” Ana said. “You’ve done much more for me than words on the paper. Hey, before I forget again, what’s your number?” Fiddling around in her purse, she pulled out her phone.

“Is that waterproof?” he asked, eyeing it.

“I think so.”

He rattled off a few numbers and she texted him a quick message. Thank you for treating me today.

UR Welcome, he texted back.

“Now, you’ll never be rid of me,” she said. “Whoops, that sounded less ominous and stalkery in my head.”

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