Page 68 of Kiss for My Kraken
“Evening, George,” Sam responded, still finding his voice slightly rough after extended periods underwater. “Busy night?”
“Not too bad. Snow’s keeping most folks home.” George slid a mug across the counter. “Hot cider. Nina’s idea.”
He accepted the drink with a nod of thanks, wrapping his hands around the warm ceramic. Another adjustment—hot beverages. Nina had introduced him to a bewildering variety, insisting he try everything from coffee to hot chocolate. The spiced cider had emerged as a favorite, its tangy sweetness a pleasant contrast to the clean, mineral taste of his river.
“She’ll be out soon,” George continued, wiping down the counter. “Just finishing up inventory with Ben.”
He settled onto a stool, content to wait. The tavern’s main room was comfortably familiar now, from the scarred wooden tables to the eclectic collection of music posters adorning the walls. His gaze lingered on a new addition—a framed watercolor of his island at sunrise, Nina’s signature in the corner. Ben had hung it in a place of honor near the fireplace, though he’d claimed it was “just to fill the damn space.”
Annabelle fluttered past, her blue wings shedding their customary glitter. “Sam! Perfect timing. Tell Nina her cookies are a hit. Three customers asked for the recipe today.”
“I will,” he promised, smiling slightly at the fairy waitress’s enthusiasm. Nina’s baking experiments had quickly become tavern favorites, her cornbread and cinnamon cookies particular standouts.
He sipped his cider, letting the conversations flow around him. The manager of the local inn chatted cheerfully with her huge troll mate. A group of young shifters played cards near the window, their laughter punctuating the gentle hum of activity. Three months ago, such casual acceptance would have seemed impossible.
Three months ago, I was still hiding, he thought.Still convinced I could never be part of this world.
A door opened at the back of the room, and Nina emerged from the kitchen, her hair piled loosely atop her head, cheeks flushed from the heat. She hadn’t noticed him yet, pausing to speak with Molly near the bar. He watched her, still struck by the simple miracle of her existence in his life.
She wore one of Ben’s aprons over jeans and a green sweater, a pencil tucked behind her ear, her movements quick andconfident as she gestured to something on her notepad. In three months, she’d gone from hesitant newcomer to essential staff member, her natural talent for cooking and organization making her indispensable to the grudgingly appreciative Ben.
She looked up, her eyes finding him instantly, as if some invisible thread connected them across the room. Her whole face brightened, the radiant smile that crossed her features still making his heart stutter.
“Sam!” She weaved through the tables towards him, somehow managing to dodge Annabelle’s wings and a customer’s outstretched leg without breaking stride. “You’re early.”
“The river was quiet,” he explained as she reached him. He resisted the urge to pull her into his arms—another adjustment, learning the boundaries of public affection. Instead, he settled for catching her hand, his thumb tracing the delicate bones of her wrist.
“Let me grab my coat, and we can go.” She squeezed his hand before disappearing into the back room again.
“You’re a lucky man, Sam,” Flora commented, materializing beside him with her typical disregard for personal space. She looked particularly festive in a red and green plaid ensemble that clashed spectacularly with her green skin.
“I know.”
Flora cackled, patting his arm with gnarled fingers. “And humble too! No wonder the universe saw fit to reward you.”
Before he could respond, Nina returned, bundled in her winter coat and carrying a small package.
“Flora, are you harassing my kraken again?”
“Merely offering congratulations on his excellent taste, dear.” Flora winked at him before drifting away, her attention already captured by another conversation.
Nina shook her head fondly. “That woman is determined to be mysterious.” She held up the package. “Leftover stew for Ozzie. Ben pretends he doesn’t like him, but he’s been saving scraps all day.”
“Ready?”
She nodded, calling goodbyes to George and Annabelle as they made their way to the door. Outside, the snow had started again, fat flakes drifting lazily from the darkened sky. She tilted her face upward, catching snowflakes on her eyelashes and tongue.
“I’ll never get tired of this,” she said, her breath fogging in the cold air.
He watched her childlike delight, still amazed by her capacity for wonder. “The river looks different under snow,” he offered. “More secretive.”
She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as they walked towards the shoreline. “Show me?”
“It’s cold,” he warned, though he knew she’d insist anyway.
“That’s what I have you for,” she replied cheerfully, bumping her shoulder against his arm. “My personal kraken heater.”
At the river’s edge, he helped Nina into their small rowboat. She settled in the stern, wrapping her scarf more securely around her neck as he pushed off, the boat cutting through the thin ice with a satisfying crack.
