Jonah
I don’t take my eyes off Clara as she watches the two turtles swim around the tank and approach the lettuce I’ve dumped in.
For several long moments, she just watches the turtles, shooting me only the occasional furtive glance, which gives me the chance to examine her.
Here, in the low light of the interior, out from under the brilliant light of the Caribbean sun, it’s easier to look at her. It’s still a gut punch, but her hair shines less and the pink of her cheeks is less radiant.
On the flip side, the scent of her sunscreen is stronger. And without the rumble of the surf, I can hear her every intake of breath. Worst of all, the rapt fascination with which she watches the turtles beguiles me.
Fuck.
That’s such a pussy word. Like I have any illusions that I’m a damn poet.
If the guys from my former SEAL team could hear me now, they would laugh their asses off.
I’m not a poet. I hate even talking to people, but I do like to read. And when you spend months in rehab, you have a lot of time to read. When you live alone on an island with one other guy who only stops by occasionally, you have even more.
So, yeah. Beguiling is the perfect adjective to describe her. Everything about her lures me closer, like she’s a siren from ancient mythology or a river nymph. Or Nimeü, the famed Lady of the Lake who enraptures Merlin and confines him in a tree for all eternity. He knew she would be his downfall, and he still couldn’t resist her.
Yeah. Some genius he was.
You’d think even if he couldn’t avoid his fate, at least I could.
I’ve known from the moment I saw her that Clara would break me over and over again.
She is so fucking perfect. So beautiful and passionate and cares about everything so deeply. I’m too old, too wounded, too cranky, and too broken for a woman like her. It’s why I’ve worked so hard to push her away.
Still, I’m determined to do right by her and fulfill this agreement we made. If she breaks my heart, I can live with that. Just so long as I don’t break hers.
Now, watching her watch the turtles, I can feel myself getting roped in.
She stretches out a hand toward Noah’s snout where he’s chomping on the lettuce. Noah lost his back two fins in a predator attack. I made him a prosthesis to help him swim that he wears strapped to his back like a rudder.
Before he can even get close to her fingers, she snatches her hand away and looks up at me with wide eyes.
“Can I pet him? Will he hate that? Or is this one of those things where you can’t interact too much with them because then they’ll be too used to interactions with people and that will put them in danger later on?”
“Noah and Jenny can’t be released to the wild. And they won’t hurt you on purpose, but they have a bite around three times stronger than a human. So be careful.”
Hands carefully out of the water, she bends closer to the tank and makes a cooing noise that goes straight to my cock.
“Oh, my goodness. Aren’t you just the sweetest, prettiest guy I’ve ever seen?”
Noah blinks sleepily at her.
She glances up at me and gestures to his back. “What’s up with the X-Men costume?”
Noah’s prosthesis hooks onto his shell in four places, so it forms an X over his back, with the “rudder” sticking up over his tail.
“He was rescued from a shark attack and lost his two back fins. That allows him to swim somewhat normally.”
She cocks her head. “Did you design this?”
“No. It’s modeled after one designed by Sea Turtle, Inc. up in Texas. I had a friend who builds prosthetics for ex-military guys build it and ship it down.”
She gives me a thoughtful look. “And what about Jenny?”
“Jenny was hit by a boat propeller. She recovered, but the injury usually traps air under the shell and causes turtles to develop what’s called bubble butt. It makes it hard for them to dive. In the wild, she’d probably starve to death.”
