Page 23

The coast guard arrived on site and questioned Fionn extensively. Sam wasn’t even asked how he’d ended up coming to the rescue, and once he said the boat was half-sunk by the time he arrived, he was given leave to go. They dropped marker buoys into the water around the yacht so nobody would accidentally sail over it. Fionn transferred to their boat, and Sam left the area before them.

He went to Curlew Bay and quietly went about making his bed. He brushed his teeth over the side of the boat before he lay down under the blankets. One was gone with Fionn and two were set aside for cleaning, so Sam was back to the familiar chill of the ocean encroaching upon him as he lay down to sleep.

The boat rocked gently under his ear, a soothing lull.

And in that soothing lull, a familiar splash.

Sam sighed. “I’m not in the mood for any of this right now. I just want to sleep.”

“I do not wish to anger you,” Goldilocks spoke softly. “Or intrude on your nest. But you are cold.”

Sam opened his eyes to stare at the roof of his cabin. The words? They were simple enough. But that hesitant, wary tone had Sam well aware that an apology was soon to follow. Sam’s anger wasn’t even all that big anymore. He was tired; it had faded.

“Are you offering to warm me up?” Sam asked dryly. He craned his neck, flicking his eyes to Goldilocks. He was bare from the torso up, and a bundle of blankets hid the rest of his nakedness. “Or did you want to throw a wet blanket at me?”

“They’re dry.”

Goldilocks stood in the middle of the deck. Waiting. Patient. And he was damned patient, wasn’t he? Like Connor had said. Sam dropped his head onto the pillow. The rest of his anger depleted. The energy to hold even a pointless grudge was gone, never mind righteous anger. “Fine,” Sam said.

Goldilocks quickly knelt at Sam’s side and draped two more blankets of thick fur on top of the remaining thin blanket. They were dry, like he said, and Sam hadn’t a clue how he’d gotten dry blankets to the boat or even where they’d come from. Goldilocks lifted the blankets, but he hesitated. Long enough that Sam could have told him to leave. Which he didn’t.

Moving slowly, but deliberately, Goldilocks slid into the spot next to Sam. Just as slowly, as if he were purposely giving Sam time to warn him off, he rested his arm over Sam’s waist. It didn’t matter that Sam was clothed, he felt the heat of Goldilocks through the layers, annoyingly pleasant.

“I angered you,” Goldilocks said, breath warm on Sam’s cheek. There were a few beats of silence, and Goldilocks shifted around. Let out a huff. “But you are not perfect either.” His tone was all sulk.

“Are you being serious right now?” Sam demanded, the words gushing out of him. He jerked toward Goldilocks, only to have to push back so he could actually see him and not just breathe against his cheek.

Goldilocks gazed at Sam, somehow sorry and challenging and sulking all at once. “This is a terrible nest,” he criticised. “A rat could build a better nest in a gutter.”

“Are you being serious? ” Sam demanded again, hot emotion choking its way up his throat.

“I’ve never seen a worse nest,” Goldilocks told him. “Yet I was kind and did not criticise because I know you tried and effort is important. Though the outcome is unfortunate. My point is, I forgave you. I did not get angry or—”

Sam scrubbed his face with his uninjured hand, a half-demented laugh bubbling up. “My nest is terrible. It’s terrible, but you were nice to me about it? You were kind and forgave my terrible nest?”

“Yes.”

Sam laughed.

“It was also nice of me to save that man,” Goldilocks pointed out.

Sam released his own face, grabbed Goldilocks instead, and he kissed the goddamn merman.

Their lips touched, and everything in Sam cracked free: all his finely held restraint, his values, his reservations, even his bruised heart burned up like cinder shards. He gripped Goldilocks’s jaw, getting his tongue between those lush lips, making the merman groan, and then he grunted in surprise as Goldilocks surged against him, pushing him onto his back.

A tail, not legs, slotted between Sam’s thighs. Goldilocks’s weight pinned him. Restrictive. Perfect. Comforting in a way Sam rebelled against.

Goldilocks pulled back too soon, and Sam chased after his mouth until a hand on his chest forced him down flat. “I was not angry about the nest because I know you are different from me. You do not value a nest in the same way I do. I could have been insulted when you first invited me into it, but I know that you did not mean it to be one.”

Sam panted beneath Goldilocks and blinked in the gloom to meet his shining golden eyes.

“And earlier, when I turned away the siren and showed you favour, I acted in a manner that would please any mate of my kind. It is unfair of you to reject me so harshly. I have only been among your people for a short time, not nearly long enough to learn all your values. But I have made many efforts to do so, and I have adjusted as I have learned. I ask that you be considerate of all of that, as I have been for you when you have acted in ways that would anger me if you were of the same kind.” Goldilocks finished his speech with a harsh breath.

Sam swallowed hard. His thoughts seemed to move along like sludge, preoccupied with unravelling every declaration and accusation just issued. “I never meant to insult you,” Sam said, addressing the easiest part.

“I know.”

When was the last time Sam had been accused of being the thoughtless one? Never. Sam wasn’t the thoughtless one. He was the one who gave too many chances. The bleeding heart. The one who empathised when he shouldn’t and got trod on over and over, until he finally learned to stop opening himself to other people.

But despite all that, Goldilocks was right.

“I’ve been thinking about our differences. It didn’t occur to me that you were also doing the same…Or that you were so thoughtful.”

Sam realised now that he’d naturally assumed he was the only one putting any thought into things. He was the only one actually considering their differences. He was like a beaten dog, primed to assume he was the one who cared. And, like always, he was the one who was going to get hurt.

Goldilocks eased onto his side next to Sam, smoothly turning from tail to legs so none of Sam got crushed. He rested his head on the same pillow as Sam, and his body relaxed, moulding protectively around Sam. Sam tried not to blush when he felt the prod at his hip.

He shuffled a little closer to Goldilocks. “I’m sorry for snapping at you in the pub earlier. You weren’t kind, but I didn’t handle it well either.”

“I will not be unkind to the siren in the future,” Goldilocks promised.

Sam paused. “I mean, don’t go flirting with him or anything, alright?” He felt a tad guilty for saying it. Austin seemed like he could use someone, maybe a lot of someones, being nice to him.

Goldilocks hummed and buried his face into Sam’s neck.

“Since you’re doing that for me, conforming to my values, shall I do something for you too? Make this a better nest?” Sam could take a hint or two about his terrible, terrible nest.

“Yes.”

Sam bit his cheek, trying not to smile at the absurdity of his nest being criticised. “I thought you liked the painted hull.”

Goldilocks stilled. “The hull is for me?”

Sam considered saying yes to please Goldilocks, but he stopped himself to think things through. “Vi’s nest was that entire building, right? Wouldn’t that mean mine is the entire boat?”

“If you intend it to be,” Goldilocks said carefully. He was speaking into the tendons of Sam’s neck, his warm breaths exhaling against the hollow of his throat. It tickled, but it didn’t feel unsafe for Goldilocks to be the one touching the vulnerable spot.

“I do,” Sam decided.

Goldilocks shivered. He chuffed, the sound the same as the ones he produced when in his other form and unable to speak words. “That pleases me,” he said warmly. “You are a sweet mate. Very gentle.” He kissed Sam’s neck. “Does your hand ache greatly? I can bring you to Vi’s nest after I have warmed you. She has many numbing agents.”

“No, it’s okay,” Sam said. “It’s not sore. And I have to go check on my dad first thing tomorrow anyway.”

There was a pause. Then, “You are lying.”

Sam sighed. Okay. Yeah. His hand ached . He’d taken the painkillers he had onboard for his headaches and was doing his best not to move it at all, but random shooting pains stung the cuts, regardless. Grabbing Goldilocks to kiss him hadn’t helped matters either. He was going to have to get it checked out by a doctor. “It’s not that bad,” Sam said. The bleeding stopped, so he was sure he didn’t need stitches, but cuts on the palm were a huge pain to heal. He’d have to be extra careful not to use the hand, or he’d be reopening the wounds every five minutes. At least it was his non-dominant hand.

Goldilocks’s silence was charged with displeasure. The feeling was similar to the one he’d gotten when he’d told Goldilocks he wasn’t sticking around at Vi’s nest last time. “Sam.” Goldilocks spoke his name in a measured tone. “Ghouls are dangerous. Vi has studied them for many years, and she is the only person in the world I would trust to tend your wounds. If you do not have ghouls here, then your healers will not know what dangers to look for in the injury.” His hand slid down Sam’s side beneath the blankets until his hand was against the wrist of Sam’s injured hand. “It is important to me that she tends this injury.”

Sam could always go to the doctor after Vi. And the seriousness in Goldilocks’s voice told him this was something that mattered to him. “Alright,” Sam said. “But only after I sort out my dad in the morning. No towing the boat away when I fall asleep.”

Goldilocks grunted. He buried his face in the crook of Sam’s neck. “Very well. It is nice of me to compromise,” he added, voice sly.

Sam choked on a laugh. “Oh, come on.”

Between the blankets and Goldilocks’s body heat, the chill in the night air was banished from the cabin, and the pain in Sam’s hand eased away, pushed back either by the painkillers or by the warmth. Sam relaxed into Goldilocks’s arms, amazed at how he could go from being so furiously angry with the merman to curled up in his arms and totally at ease in the space of only a few hours. It was hard to be angry when he saved Sam from a vicious worm and saved Fionn’s life in the space of a few minutes. And brought Sam blankets and told him that his nest was terrible.

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, fighting a broad smile with everything he had.

“You are happy,” Goldilocks said softly, breaking the silence. His hand flattened on Sam’s stomach, moving as Sam huffed in amusement. “That pleases me,” he said.

Goldilocks was pleased because Sam was happy? The simple statement was so sickly sweet, Sam’s stomach filled with fuzz. “I guess being treated nicely makes me happy,” Sam murmured, trying not to be too embarrassed. Goldilocks came out with these statements like it was so easy to say; he seemed to have no concept that laying himself bare like that left him open emotionally to a harsh rebuttal.

Goldilocks’s chest rumbled in a purr, and Sam’s eyes slid shut. He sighed, tired, cosy and warm, and he knew as he drifted to sleep he would be met with pleasant dreams.