“They survived but fled soon after, claiming the damp sea air was ruining her health.” His tone is skeptical, like he finds the excuse laughable. “She died five years later, never returning to the island that made her infamous.”
His eyes lock on mine. “Does that answer your question?”
I nod, heart pounding. It really does.
Before I can say more, someone calls from the back of the boat.
“Now eventually you do plan to have mermaids on your mermaid tour, right?”
A few passengers laugh.
Wren’s mouth tightens but he gives a nod to the captain, and the boat makes a sharp left. My stomach flips in protest and I squeeze my eyes shut.
“If you’ll all turn to your left as we round this cove—” Wren’s voice fades as a girl around Goldie’s age gasps.
“Look! It’s the mermaid!”
Goldie grips my arm so hard I lose circulation. “She’s so pretty!”
I risk opening my eyes—and okay, yeah, the mermaid is breathtaking.
Perched on the sun-warmed rocks, she’s framed by the glittering Atlantic, a cherry blossom woven into her long, glossy black hair. Her golden-tipped aquamarine tail catches the light with every movement, shimmering like something straight out of a Japanese legend.
Phones click, kids squeal, a boy near the back bounces in his dad’s lap. “She’s waving at me!”
Despite my nausea, I smile.
The captain slows the boat, letting everyone get the perfect photo. Wren recites a few practiced lines, but no one is listening, not even me.
My stomach clenches as the boat drifts, so I clamp my eyes shut, breathing through my mouth until Goldie announces that the mermaid is leaving. I force my eyes open just in time to see her dive into the water, her tail flashing once before disappearing beneath the waves.
The moment the boat turns back toward the harbor, Wren says, “Thank you for taking the tour. Watch your step as you disembark, and please remember to take all trash and belongings with you.” He switches off the microphone with a click, and just like that, he’s done.
“I’m going to go get in line for ice cream.” Goldie bumps into me on her way off as soon as we dock. “I’ll meet you at the bikes!”
I nod vaguely. Talking feels dangerous. Walking even more so. I focus on standing.
“Hey, ride’s over, Tourist Girl.” Wren’s voice drifts over my shoulder when I realize I’m the last guest on board. “Time to get off my boat before you turn any greener.”
“Uh, my boat,” the captain interjects, flashing me a grin. “And I do private tours.”
The idea of another boat ride nearly finishes me off. I shake my head slowly.
“No?” Tate props one foot on the seat and gazes dramatically out over the water. “The sea, she is a fickle mistress, but she owns my heart. And if I have to choose between the two of you, pretty-girl-I-just-met, I’m sorry to say it’s the sea for me.”
Wren shoves him aside. “Would you just go help Eryn? I’ll meet you both back at the truck after cleaning up.”
Tate goes, and Wren’s eyes turn to me. “You gonna make it, or do you need a bag? I’d rather you not puke on my boat.”
I exhale slowly, leveling him with a look. “I thought it was the captain’s boat.”
“You’re still arguing?” He tilts his head toward the gangplank. “Maybe try getting on solid ground first.” I manage to step onto the dock without humiliating myself, but Wren watches me like he expects me to drop.
“You took the ferry, right?” he asks, tying off a bag of trash in his lap. “Which means you knew you’d get sick today. You barely glanced at the mermaid. So why take the tour?”
I hold up a finger, bending slightly to rest a hand on my knee. He rolls down the ramp as I mutter to myself under my breath. “See? You didn’t throw up. You did not throw up on the boat, and you are not going to throw up now.”
“Let me get you a water.” Wren says.
