Page 45 of The Rusalka and Mr. Right

Do you want this girl beside you for the rest of your life?

Yes. I think I do.

I know it. Don’t know how, just know it.

“Are you free for the next sixty or seventy years?” I ask, voice casual.

Marina gasps, “Kevin!”

“Just think about it.”

“Oh. I am.”

Chapter Thirteen

He thinks I’m a mutant. That kind of monster. Not a demon, spawned of some other demon, but a modified human or something. Not a being that can live off of energy, a being that will dry and wither if she goes more than a day or so without spending hours in the water.

But he said it didn’t matter, and while I think he’s crazy, I believe him. He probably thinks I’m crazy, too, and he believes me.

Saturday afternoon and evening are busy. Ardy, the police officer, needs to ask me some things. Minegold and Leo are with him. There are tense hours and phone calls to the hospital morgue and Jasper Wainwright at the local news station. All of this would far better be done at my houseboat or perhaps at Jakob’s, but Kev believes I was attacked at home. He doesn’t want to let me out of his sight. So instead—he makes dinner while a parade of people hold whispered conversations with me in his living room.

Saturday spills into Sunday, midnight striking before everyone leaves.

“I hate drama.” Kev is loading the dishwasher.

“I know. I’m so sorry. I can—”

“But your drama is legit, and I don’t mind it. It just sucks that you have to go through it.” His tight face relaxes, and he reaches for me. “I’m glad you don’t have to go through it alone. You’ve got good people.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “You’re the one I want to go through things with the most. Only, I don’t want you to go through any of this, because it’s terrible.”

“Don’t start that again. Hey.” He turns and holds up a pink and gold gift bag. “Minegold gave me this and said it’s a housewarming gift.”

“What is it?” I raise my eyebrows, sure that I’m blushing. Was Jakob being kind, welcoming Kev to Pine Ridge, or was he being pushy, making it seem like I’m moving in?

“It’s a waffle maker.”

I bite my lip. I love waffles. If I get a man who has any manners and insists that I stay for breakfast, I often find myself eating toaster pastries or illicit frozen waffles made in illegal toasters in some cramped dorm room. Fresh waffles, waffles in a restaurant... Those are a dream come true.

“And look—a bag of Pine Loft Coffee Shop Pumpkin Spice Waffle Mix. Tomorrow, we’re going to sleep in, then make waffles. You’re gonna tell me whatever you need to tell me. And then we’re going to the gym and beat the shit out of stuff.” Kev smiles, a soft warmth in his eyes as he pulls me close, kissing my head. “Unless that little press conference in there took a bad turn. Do we need to go off the grid? Hop in that houseboat of yours and sail away?”

“Not yet,” I whisper.

We head to bed, exhausted. I’m full. Don’t need to eat. I’ve never been to bed with a man and simply slept—not even Gregor. I can’t disappoint Kev.

When I lie in his arms, I wait for him to pull me under him, to start with a passionate kiss. He doesn’t.

He strokes my hair. “So soft. Smells like rain. You always smell like rain. Love that smell.” Kev’s voice breaks with a shuddering yawn. “So... Houseboat. How do you sail somethingand have electricity? Or indoor plumbing? I mean, cruise ships do it, but—”

“It wouldn’t get very far. It’s old, as in it comes from the time when horses dragged barges up the river. Mine has no motor. It just... sits. Moored. It’s meant to give me a hiding place or a place to sleep when I can’t—” I stop speaking, realizing what I’ve revealed. How abnormal it must sound.

Kev rubs one sleepy hand along my spine. “No cruises for us? Can’t take it down to the Bahamas?”

“Only in pieces,” I laugh.

“Do I get to see it?”

“I... No.”

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