Their tales of the sea, in the darkness, they hold.
Hush now, my child, close your sleepy eyes,
Dream of lobster boats under starry skies.
The fisher’s lullaby will guide you through,
With tales of the ocean and love so true.
On the rolling waves, where the seagulls play,
Fishermen work hard through night and day.
They cast their traps down to the ocean’s floor,
In search of lobsters, they’ll catch many more.
Hush now, my child, close your sleepy eyes,
Dream of lobster boats under starry skies.
The fisher’s lullaby will guide you through,
With tales of the ocean and love so true.
So rest now, my dear, as the night turns to day,
In the fisherman’s lullaby, find your way.
With the sea as your cradle, you’ll slumber so tight,
Dream of lobster boats in the soft, gentle night.
When the song is done, he waits a few seconds, searching my face.
“Beautiful,” I whisper, not exactly sure if I’m talking about the song or the singer.
Saylor only smiles before he starts over, singing the lullaby on repeat, watching me as my eyes grow heavy and fall closed.
NINETEEN
The breezein the harbor is bitterly cold this early in the morning.
I stand outside the shipyard, fidgeting nervously and pulling my black zippered hoodie tighter around me as I wait for this dumpster fire of a day to begin. I’m dressed in my trusty blue overalls, and underneath, I’ve got on a tight white cropped top with long sleeves. It’s the outfit I’m most comfortable in while working.
Two braids fall casually over my shoulders, keeping my hair out of my face. It’s not about looking good. It is about being safe and efficient. The coveralls that mechanics usually wear are designed for tall men and tend to billow around me. Wearing them could be dangerous for me if the fabric got caught anywhere.
I arrived extra early, hoping to make a good first impression, at least in this regard. But I was already awake, taking apart the radio to find the issue. Fortunately, it was an easy fix, and I will be able to sleep again tonight.
I stand here, listening to the seagulls’ cries. My heart pounds in my chest, anxiety creeping in as I anticipate North’s arrival. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that I can handle this.
I’m a fucking amazing mechanic.
Finally, the black BMW pulls up and parks beside the shipyard. North steps out of the driver’s seat, dressed in a suit, looking impeccably attractive and brooding. His neutral expression morphs into a frown when he spots me. He closes his car door, and I hear another door fall shut. That’s when I notice that Nash just got out of the passenger seat, wearing a grin so wide it nearly touches his ears when he sees me.
“Good morning,” I mumble to North when he opens the yard’s front door next to me, attempting to be professional. However, his scowl only deepens before he moves past me into the shipyard without a word.
He sure as fuck isn’t thrilled about my presence.
