Page 11 of Kiss for My Kraken (Fairhaven Falls #8)

N ina was having the best dream. She was in a large bed, surrounded by soft pillows and blankets.

A massive male figure loomed over her, but he didn’t frighten her.

His strong arms held her gently and his cool lips pressed kisses across her heated flesh.

She was naked and wet and desperate, writhing against his body, her legs wrapped around his hips as something hard pressed against her entrance…

She woke with a start, her body aching with need.

She could still feel the press of his lips on her skin, the cool touch of his fingers trailing down her spine.

Her heart raced and she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

She’d never had that type of dream before, never felt that rush of arousal. Was it even possible?

Memories from the previous evening flooded back with startling clarity. Sam rising from the depths, water streaming from his powerful shoulders. That beautiful, inhuman face. His mouth on hers, cool and firm. His hands on her body, his tentacle circling her ankle.

He was real, not a dream, not a fantasy.

And he’d kissed her.

Her lips still tingled from the memory, and she touched them, a wondering smile spreading across her face.

She’d been kissed before, but not often and it had never been like that.

Sam’s kiss had been different—deeper, more intimate.

As if they’d been the only two people in the world at that moment, and nothing else mattered.

She hugged her knees to her chest, torn between elation and terror. She’d kissed an Other—a water creature with tentacles, for heaven’s sake. The Chosen would have considered him an abomination.

Yet it had felt… right. Perfect, even. Like finding a missing piece of herself she hadn’t known was gone.

She glanced at the window. The sky was just beginning to lighten in the east, the stars fading into the soft pink and lavender hues of dawn, and the river glittered, beckoning. A cool breeze blew through the open window, bringing with it the fresh scent of the water.

“I should be freaking out,” she told Ozzie, who wagged his stubby tail in response. “Any normal person would be freaking out.”

Instead, she felt light. Buoyant. As if she might float away if she didn’t anchor herself.

The realization that she needed to get ready for work finally broke through her daze. She scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over Ozzie in her haste.

“Sorry, buddy,” she murmured, patting him apologetically. “I’m a little… distracted.”

Distracted didn’t begin to cover it. As she showered and dressed, her mind kept drifting back to the dock, to Sam. Would he return tonight? Did he regret their encounter? Or was he, like her, counting the hours until dusk?

She caught herself humming as she made a quick breakfast, a tuneless melody that nevertheless expressed the strange happiness bubbling inside her. Ozzie watched her with his head tilted, as if trying to understand her sudden change in mood.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she told him, tossing him a bit of toast. “Can’t a girl be happy?”

Before she set off for the tavern, she paused for a moment, staring across at the island wreathed in morning mist. Sam’s island? The thought that he might be there, might be watching her even now, sent a thrill through her body.

With an effort, she tore herself away and continued up the path to the tavern. She was going to be late if she didn’t hurry, and the last thing she needed was to give Ben a reason to fire her. Especially now, when Fairhaven Falls was beginning to feel like somewhere she could actually stay.

This was one of the mornings when the tavern was open for breakfast, and it was already busy when she arrived, the breakfast crowd in full swing. She slipped through the back door, quickly stashing her bag in Ben’s office where Ozzie had his new bed.

“Be good,” she told the dog, giving him a quick pat. “I’ll check on you at lunch.”

In the kitchen, Ben was at the stove, long ears twitching as he flipped pancakes. He grunted in acknowledgment as she grabbed an apron and washed her hands.

“Sorry if I’m late,” she said, moving to the prep station where vegetables waited to be chopped. “I got a little… distracted.”

“Hmmph.” Ben slid a plate of pancakes through the pass to Annabelle, who winked at Nina as she collected it. “You’re not late. But you’re…” His nose twitched. “Different.”

She focused on the vegetables, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to break free. “Different how?”

He studied her for a moment. “Happy. Too happy. Something happen?”

She knew she was blushing as she hastily returned to the vegetables. “Nothing important.”

“Right.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Well, whatever it is, don’t burn the cornbread.”

“I would never!” She placed a hand over her heart in mock offense, grateful for the shift in conversation.

Ben snorted, turning back to his pancakes, but not before she caught the hint of a smile on his gruff face.

The morning rush kept her busy, hands moving automatically through familiar tasks while her mind wandered.

Every time the door opened, she glanced through the pass through, half-expecting—what?

That Sam would stroll in for breakfast? The thought was absurd, yet she couldn’t help the little flutter of anticipation each time.

During a lull, Annabelle sidled up to her, blue wings vibrating with curiosity.

“Spill,” she demanded, her voice low enough that Ben couldn’t hear from where he was berating a supplier in the storeroom.

“Spill what?” She kept her eyes on the pie crust she was rolling out.

“Oh please.” Annabelle fluttered her wings, sending a shower of glitter onto the counter. “You’re practically glowing. And you’ve been smiling at that dough like it told you the secret to eternal happiness.”

She laughed despite herself. “It’s nothing. I’m just… having a good day.”

“Mmhmm.” The other woman leaned closer. “Does this ‘good day’ have anything to do with our mysterious river guardian?”

She froze, flour-covered rolling pin in hand. “Our?”

Annabelle rolled her eyes. “Honey, this is Fairhaven Falls. We all know there’s someone lurking in the shadows of the river, even if he keeps himself hidden.

” She paused, her expression softening. “He deserves some happiness, and you do too. Just be careful, okay? Some waters run deeper than they look.”

With that cryptic remark, she fluttered off to greet two new customers, leaving Nina to wonder just how much the town really knew about her river prince.

The breakfast rush ended and she continued with the lunch prep, losing herself in the familiar rhythm.

She was concentrating so hard on her tasks that she jumped when she turned around and found Flora perched on the counter, beaming at her.

She was wearing a vivid purple tracksuit today, emblazoned with the words “Too Hot to Handle” across the chest.

“I see we’re finally making progress,” Flora said cheerfully.

“Progress?” Her voice sounded strangled.

Flora tapped her lips knowingly. “Someone’s been getting up close and personal with a certain other someone.”

She ducked her head, trying to hide her flaming cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course not, dear.” Flora’s expression softened. “And it’s about time, if you ask me. That boy has been alone far too long.”

“Boy?” An incredulous laugh escaped her. Sam, with his brilliant eyes and powerful presence, hardly seemed like a “boy.”

“Now, tell me. How was it?”

“How was what?” she stalled, even though she knew exactly what Flora was asking.

“The kiss, dear!” Flora threw up her hands in exasperation. “Honestly, you young people are so cagey these days. You’d think I was asking for a play-by-play or something. Although,” she added, waggling her eyebrows, “I would be delighted to hear one.”

“There’s no play-by-play,” she protested, her face on fire. “It was just a kiss.”

“Just a kiss, hmm?” Flora arched an eyebrow. “I thought he could do better than that.”

The thought of “better” sent a wave of heat through her, and she busied herself with the dishes, anything to avoid meeting Flora’s too-perceptive gaze.

“We barely know each other.”

“Then get to know each other,” Flora said briskly as she hopped off the counter. “The sooner the better.”

Why? She turned to ask but Flora was already gone, leaving the faint scent of cinnamon in her wake. She shook her head and went back to work.

The rest of her shift passed in a blur of questions and anticipation. By the time Ben gruffly told her to “get out of his kitchen and go home,” the sun was already beginning its descent towards the horizon.

She practically ran back to her cabin, Ozzie bounding ahead of her as if he sensed her excitement. Inside, she stripped off her work clothes and showered quickly, scrubbing away the scent of the tavern.

Wrapped in a towel, she stood before the small dresser, suddenly faced with a dilemma. What did one wear to meet a river prince? Something practical? Something… pretty?

Her wardrobe offered limited options, but after a moment’s hesitation, she pulled out her one dress—a simple blue sundress that her friend Mel had given her right before she escaped the Chosen. It was nothing special, but the fabric was soft and the color reminded her of the river.

She slipped it on, then stood before the small mirror, critically assessing her reflection. Her hair, still damp from the shower, hung in loose waves around her face. Her grey eyes seemed larger than usual, more vulnerable—and more hopeful.

“This is ridiculous,” she told her reflection. “He’s seen you in dirty jeans and a sweater. He’s seen you half-drowned.”

But she still wanted to look nice. For him. For herself.

As the light outside began to soften towards dusk, she reached for her sketchbook, tucking it under her arm.

“Come on, Ozzie,” she called. “Let’s go down to the dock.”

He trotted ahead of her, occasionally stopping to sniff at something interesting before continuing down towards the water.

When she reached the dock, she paused. Should she sit? Stand? What if he didn’t come?

No. She pushed the doubt away. He would come.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a smooth river stone she’d found a few days ago, its surface etched with delicate whorls of color.

She’d kept it as a good luck charm, a reminder that beauty could be found in unexpected places.

Now, she placed it carefully at the edge of the dock in their usual place.

Settling down with her back against one of the dock’s wooden posts, she opened her sketchbook. She’d always found comfort in drawing, in capturing the world around her in lines and shades, even if The Chosen frowned on such frivolous pursuits. She turned to a fresh page and began to sketch.

Sam’s face emerged beneath her pencil—the strong jawline, the otherworldly eyes, the features that were almost human but not quite. She added the breadth of his shoulders, the powerful arms that had lifted her from the river bed when she’d nearly drowned.

Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she sketched what she had only glimpsed in the water—the tentacles, sinuous and strong, tapering from his torso. Not monstrous, but magnificent. Part of him, as natural as her own arms and legs.

She was so absorbed in her drawing that she didn’t notice the subtle change in the air at first—a shift in pressure, a faint ripple of anticipation. Ozzie, who had been dozing beside her, lifted his head, ears perked.

Suddenly sure that she was no longer alone, she looked up from her sketchbook. The water near the dock remained undisturbed, but she felt his presence, a watchful attention that sent a shiver of awareness down her spine.

“Sam?” she called softly, setting aside her sketchbook and rising to her feet. “Are you there?”

No answer came, but the water twenty feet from the dock swirled gently, as if stirred by an unseen hand.

Heart pounding, she moved to the edge of the dock. The last rays of sunlight caught on the water, turning it to liquid gold. Beneath that gilded surface, she thought she saw a darker shape, a suggestion of movement.

“I know you’re there,” she said, her voice stronger now. “I can feel you.”

The cool air began to warm, surrounding her like an invisible embrace, and she closed her eyes, savoring it. When she opened them again, the water directly before the dock had begun to ripple, expanding outward in concentric circles.

Something was rising from the depths.

She held her breath, anticipation and joy mingling in her chest as she waited for her river prince to emerge.