her as her legs clasped his waist. “Hey, baby,” he said, pressing his face against her neck. “Miss me?”
Her fingers twined in his hair and she pulled on his head to lift his gaze to hers. “Did your flight get canceled?”
“Something better than that. My life plan got canceled.”
“I...I don’t understand.”
“I know.” He hitched her up, then carried her to the double-wide lounger, where he sat with her in his lap. His mouth found hers, and she fell headlong into the kiss—that he cut short. “Let me tell you something first.”
“All right,” she said, suddenly wary again.
“During the drive to the airport, questions kept running through my head. First and foremost, why I’d been avoiding taking pictures. Hell, I couldn’t even make myself take a final photo of you last night.”
“I thought maybe it was because of my sunburned nose.”
“Brat,” he said, then kissed it. “The answer was actually pretty simple. I’d always used the camera lens as a buffer between me and my subjects. I didn’t want any buffer from you. Not last night. Not ever.”
Skye’s heart was pounding in her chest. The merfolk must be fast workers, she thought, dizzy with the new rush of blood zinging through her veins.
“I love you, Skye,” Gage said. “I’m so in love with you.”
Her body started to tremble. “You know, you know I—”
“I know.” His grin was easy, and very pleased. “No doubt I’ll insist you say it a hell of a lot, too, but let me finish telling you why I didn’t make that plane.”
She clasped her hands together.
“When I learned about Griff’s PTSD, I did a little research. Scientists have named another condition that happens to people who experience an impactful life event—PTG, post-traumatic growth. It leaves a person with a new outlook on life and relationships. A man may discover that he wants to spend more time with family instead of his career. Maybe he sees himself putting down roots—still taking photographs, mind you—but from a home base and with a woman beside him who can fill his heart, not just his zest for adventure.”
Skye frowned. “That woman might not like the idea of being the one who curtails his zest.”
He smiled at her. “She’s going to provide plenty of zest, don’t you worry.”
At her doubtful expression, he laughed.
“Trust me, honey,” he said, then, sobering, he gathered her even closer. “While I was driving, I kept remembering Charlie, something he told me. Just a few weeks before his kidnapping, he was walking through Kabul and a bullet pierced a wall right by his head. Pure good luck that it didn’t kill him outright. And he wondered if that wasn’t a sign from the universe. He thought about going home to Mara and Anthony, right then and there.”
Skye frowned. “So your sign from the universe was the kidnapping?”
“My sign from the universe was you. At first your letters, and then your smile, and then your love. It made no sense not to heed it...not to be with you, the person who makes me happy. So...here I am.”
“So...here you are.” She smiled, her heart whole and clamoring for its turn to talk. “Do I get to say I love you now?”
“Sure, I—” His gaze suddenly shifted over her shoulder, and he blinked. “Jesus,” he murmured. “Skye, there’s...there’s merpeople out there.”
Seals. “But of course,” she replied, without even bothering to look. “They’re here to welcome you home.”
EPILOGUE
SKYE STOOD AT THE RAILING on the deck of Beach House No. 9, her hand shading her eyes as she gazed up the sand. No fog shrouded the cove this afternoon; instead the sun was beaming down in warm welcome for the Memorial Day weekend visitors. Her shoulder muscles ached a little, but she didn’t mind, because the hard work of preparing for another Crescent Cove summer was now completed.
Their group of friends had even managed to make time for a simultaneous week-long visit, with the exception of Addy and her husband, Baxter, who were living in France. For the rest of them, those who considered themselves the happy recipients of No. 9’s magic, it was going to be seven days of horseshoes on the beach and barbecues on the deck. There was talk of making some after-dark visits to Captain Crow’s for a little dancing.
That was, if they could talk Tess and David’s teenage boys into babysitting. Their daughter Rebecca would want to go along to the bar with the other adults.
The passel of kids she was expecting came into view and Skye smiled,