Page 11 of Hooking Captain Teeth

“If you wanted to catch a pirate, your timing is worse than half the port authorities in the Caribbean. This isn’t the time or place for romance.”

“I’ve already caught and sampled you, Teeth! You couldn’t see you had your destiny in your arms when you had the chance.”

“So, you know something I don’t, and you think that makes you special? You pulled one over on Captain Teeth the Idiot. Well, so has everyone else! Being smarter than me doesn’t make you special!”

“You wouldn’t know what makes me special because you assumed I was another whore to warm your sheets! You don’t even remember me!”

“I think I’d remember quiffing a Kraken!”

“I was in my human form. Blimey, you are stupid, aren’t you? Not to mention you’re as good as pickled in booze,” she snaps.

“Don’t let that steal the wind from your sails! I bet I was drunk the night we rode the St. George.”

“You humiliated me!”

“I’m sorry? If I apologize, will you let me live?”

“You don’t get to die,” she says with a fire brighter than hell’s inferno blazing in her eyes. “If I must suffer the loneliness—”

“You think I’m not lonely? I have an image to maintain, so my crew will work together to survive. A fierce captain keeps other pirates from looting the boat, the authorities from arresting us all, and troublemakers from causing a mutiny that can sink a boat. I can’t be myself. I lie to everyone but Chub, and he’s smitten with his intended. Loneliness is all I have…”

The waves slap at us. The rain pours in sheets. In the flashes of lightning, I study her expressions as they dance across her features. There’s more than the tough exterior she wants to show me. She’s a mirror of my innermost self that I hide from the world. A monster who regrets the choices of their youthbecause they led to an isolated existence.

“Let’s save this fight for when you’re not dragging us into the abyss,” she says when a clap of thunder shakes the earth. “Stop squirming! In these swells, you will never make it aboard before the boat’s riptide drags you under. Let’s make for land, and I’ll return you in the morning.”

“She’ll sink by morning!” I fumble with her tentacles to escape, but she’s locked my wrists to my waist in several loops of muscle. She’s in her element, and I’m three sheets to the wind. The pelting rain and dropping temperatures can’t sober my mind fast enough.

“Better the boat than you! You can’t save the boat from beyond the grave!” Strong, brave, and furious, my lady love is a force of nature. She’s beautiful and borderline terrifying. As much as I’d love to allow her to carry me away, I’m Captain Teeth first. I won’t abandon me hearties.

“A captain doesn’t abandon his ship!”

“A kidnapped one does,” she says through clenched teeth. Oh, thank the heavens, small square teeth sit between her lush lips instead of fangs. I kissed fangs in my past—not a fan of cut gums, scraped teeth, and busted lips. “Help me swim!”

“Can’t paddle when you’ve pinned my wrists, love,” I say with a smirk. She can’t see my expression as she swims away, dragging me within her tentacles.I’ll have to try harder to get a reaction. “Kinky, but now is not the time—”

“Kick your feet and use those abdominal muscles to keep yourself buoyant—”

“Aye, aye,” I chirp, just to see her pause to glare at me once more. My mates can’t blame me for falling into the drink and being carried away by my lady love. Not only has my search for her been common scuttlebutt on the boat, but choosing quim over duty is par for the course with me. Frequenting a brothel when I was supposed to be guardingQueen Anne’s Revengewas the reason Ol’Blackbeard cut off my marriage finger.

“If I knew I’d drag your sack of bones to shore, I’d have wished for my fated mate to be short and slender!” Her grunts and growls are precious.

How lucky am I? She recognizes me as a fated mate, so we can skip the song and dance where I must convince her I’m the one. I hate cream pot love and the dumb things men do courting their lady love. No sentimental gestures from me. She’s mine and knows it. I smile broadly as we defy death and make our way to the island on the horizon.

Sounds like she’s a short-heeled lass who fell under my marriage rod as well. No awkward first quiffing where I pretend to be sweet and loving. She knows myproclivities and still claims me. I just hope she wasn’t part of the orgies…or one of the fireships that made the inside of my britches itch. My lips clench shut before my booze-loosened tongue can ask her if Kraken can contract the pox, crabs, or heaven forbid—the Bube.

“I’m releasing you, so don’t be difficult. Climb onto the beach and stay out of trouble while I rest. If you drown yourself after I carried you for miles, I’ll haunt you in hell,” she scolds between gulps of air.

Her tentacles release me in a teasing caress that awakens my senses. Nothing is sexier than the way she crawls up the beach with her ruby tentacles rippling behind her. My path isn’t straight, and my strides are uneven, but I try my best to exit the ocean with a captain’s swagger. She collapses before she reaches the edge. Her cheek rests on the sand as rain patters in a halo around her. I scoop her into my arms—tentacles flopping over my elbow—and arrange her on my lap. Watching the storm against the safety of a boulder, I can reflect on the miracle in my arms.

She’s here. My lady love has found me. She resents how we met, but we can work on resolving our misunderstanding. However I treated her at our first passing, it wasn’t with the respect she deserves. Our paths crossed too soon, and we’ve been given a second chance. We can build a future on the sea. I’venever aspired to retire as a farmer or island merchant like most of me hearties. Landlubbing domestication sounds like soul-sucking wretchedness. This little lady proves my destiny is naval excitement with a bite of danger until my bitter end.

We doze on and off as the ocean’s roar quiets to civil complaints. I dream of tentacles, and for the first time, I’m not frightened. I understand the octopus tarot card wasn’t an heiress but a Kraken…my Kraken. My fingers tangle in her thick, red hair and stroke her cheek as she sleeps. Her breath warms my flesh between my shirt buttons. I wish I were topless too, so I could feel my lady love—skin to skin.

“You’re awake,” she whispers before rubbing her face on my chest. Her tiny fists grind into her eyes as she rubs the sleep from them.

“The sunrise woke me,” I say in a voice rough with sleep. “The sweet trade trained me to sleep in short bursts.”

“Short bursts when the sun’s down?”

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