Page 7 of Making Out With Mermaids (Haven Ever After #6)
CHAPTER SEVEN
BETMAL
I t’s been three days since I convinced Amatheia to work with me on the welcome packet project. In that time, the house and I have worked nonstop to finish building and decorating the backyard cottage. Today, it’s finally complete and ready for my guest.
Striding across my lofted office space, I descend the stairs to the first floor, marveling at the beautiful sunlight filtering through the walls of windows. One of them slides open and shut several times, bringing a smile to my face.
“That’s right, darling,” I croon, reaching out to pat the wall lovingly. “She’ll be here shortly. I’m planning to pick her up at the lake in half an hour, and then we’ll be back so she can work. Exciting, isn’t it?”
This time, all of the windows open and shut with loud, creaky squeaks. She’s excited, and I love that.
“I’m going to head over a little early,” I say more to myself than anything. I’d rather be early to pick Amatheia up than late and have her walk again. The last thing I want is for her to feel pain at my expense. Leaving the cottage, I head to the main house and find the keys to a gorgeous vintage Corvette, courtesy of Abemet.
After sliding into the black leather seat, I start the beautiful car up, marveling at the throaty purr of a perfectly tuned engine. I set off with a smile. Things couldn’t possibly be working out any better.
Twenty minutes later, I pull off the road and park the car. A thin dirt path leads to the lake, which is where Amatheia is meeting me in ten minutes. Looking in the rearview mirror, I run both hands through my hair, slicking it back. As always, a tiny chunk falls over my eyes.
Feminine voices drift through the forest toward me. Twitching an ear, I listen as they rise. Amatheia’s shouting at someone, and she sounds frustrated, almost angry. I don’t recognize the other voice.
I’m out of the car quickly, jogging along the path to get to her. I don’t stop until I reach the lakeshore, where I find Amatheia and another mermaid in the water, only their heads peeking above the surface. When I appear, Amatheia notices me and blushes, looking upset.
“Betmal, you’re early. I was just?—”
“Don’t do this,” the other mermaid hisses. “When Father finds out, he’ll?—”
“He won’t find out if you don’t tell him,” Amatheia snaps. “Which you aren’t going to do…right?”
The other female looks over at me and shudders. “Oh depths, I thought you were kidding. A vampire?” She looks back at Amatheia. “A vampire, Ama? For real? They’re dangerous , you know that! And what about—” She stops talking and looks my way again.
Slipping both hands into my pockets, I stalk toward them until I’m knee-deep in the lake, pulling the other mermaid’s focus to me. “I’m only vicious when I need to be, darling. Amatheia is in no danger from me. I simply need a job done, and she’s the woman to do it.”
I wonder if this is one of the cousins she previously mentioned?
The other female’s features twist into an expression somewhere between disgust and discomfort, and she looks back at Amatheia. “Please don’t do this, Ama. I’ve kept a lot of secrets for you, but this is too much. When Father finds out, he’ll raise hells and forbid you from continuing.”
I remain watchful, curious to see how Amatheia will handle this.
She drags her fingers along the water’s surface. “I’m going, Thatraeia. And you have to keep this secret for me, for us. I have a chance to not only help Betmal with an important project, but do something I love at the same time. Those chances come so rarely. Assuming Betmal still wants my help after this outburst, I’m going with him.”
“It’s got to be you,” I confirm with a smile.
For a long, tense moment, neither female says anything else. Eventually, the pink-finned mermaid sighs and backs toward the deeper water. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Ama. This isn’t going to work out well.” Without sparing either of us another glance, she flips backward, curling into a ball before shooting toward the middle of the lake.
Amatheia looks over at me. “Depths, I am so sorry, Betmal. She means well; she’s my favorite cousin, but damn.” She stares up at me from beneath impossibly long inky-blue lashes. “Today has been a week . Are you sure you want me to do this for you? Because you’re probably going to have to deal with more merfolk nonsense if this takes longer than a session or two. My uncle hates for me to have anything of my own.”
Oh, my sweet girl has no idea. Not only will this take ages and ages, but once we’re done with the Ever book, I have every intention of hiring her to paint for all the havens, all fifty-plus of them. We’ll be working on this project for a very, very long time.
“Absolutely certain.” I wave her apology away. “I’m not concerned over anyone’s opinion but yours.”
She smiles and glides closer to shore, her upper body appearing out of the water. Long turquoise-green hair drips wet down her chest, completely covering round, pert breasts. Still, it’s enough of a hint to make my fangs throb with need.
She waves a hand toward a giant fallen tree on the edge of the beach. “I need to hop over to the lockers and grab my clothes.”
“Allow me,” I offer, reaching for her. I’ve never known merfolks to be concerned with nudity, but it still surprises me when she takes my hand and hops toward me in human form. It takes a considerable amount of self-control not to let my gaze drop and stare at her body. Water sluices down her skin as her scales fade mostly away, revealing a taut, smooth stomach.
I force my eyes to hers. “May I carry you to the lockers?”
She nips her lower lip and nods. “I wouldn’t want to impose, but it’ll be quicker if you do.” Her laugh is meant to take away the awkwardness of the moment, I expect. But for me, it’s not awkward. Not at all. I want to put my hands on her, even if it’s just to help.
I don’t want her experiencing a moment of pain. Bending slightly, I slip an arm around the backs of her knees and another around her shoulders. She’s light as a feather as I carry her out of the lake and toward the giant fallen tree that serves as lockers for the merfolks. It’s a nice bit of haven design, thoughtful and unique. Most merfolk don’t venture from their bodies of water that often, so many havens don’t incorporate something like lockers, as they’d go relatively unused.
This’ll be Abemet’s doing, my brilliant son. He has an eye for detail.
He got that from me.
“Which locker, darling?” I pause in front of the moss-covered tree.
She wiggles out of my arms and takes a seat on the log, patting a patch next to her thigh. Her beautiful, very toned thigh. As she opens the locker and withdraws clothing, I take a moment to absorb how hauntingly stunning she is. Females are such glorious creatures—strong yet delicate. Hard but soft. Givers of life and rulers of kingdoms.
Amatheia pulls a navy tee over her head. I resist the urge to suggest she paint nude. One day. One day we’ll get there.
Her prosthetic goes on next. She nestles the uppermost part of her leg into the cupped wooden cap, then wraps the straps around her knee, hissing as she does so.
Next she pulls jeans up her wet legs, but that’s difficult to do without drying oneself. I drop to my knee and pull her foot through, helping her to inch the jeans up her legs. I’m being forward, more forward than I should be. But the need to care for her, to do everything for her, eats me alive as she struggles to get the jeans up her wet thighs.
When she hops to a stand, shimmying the jeans over round, muscular hips, I grit my teeth to stop myself from leaning in and burying them in her throat.
My reaction to this female is the strongest sentiment I’ve experienced in a very long time. I wasn’t even this enthralled when I met Evenia and Aberen. There was immediate sensuality—it was fun, but eventually that fun ran its course. By then, we had Abemet, and I stayed to give him some stability.
Amatheia and I exchange wry looks. Reaching down, I grab the waistband of her pants and yank them quickly the rest of the way up. Dark azure eyes rove my face as I zip and button them, then place my hand on her hip. Her eyes are wide, bright, her cheeks flushed a darker shade of aqua, plump lips slightly parted. She looks ready to be kissed. That mouth is in desperate need of it.
But not yet. Taking a step back, I smile and offer her my arm. “Shall we, darling?”
She takes it with one hand then bends down, arranging her jeans around the prosthesis. I grimace inwardly as she winces. It’s obviously ill-fitting. Clearly too small. I can’t imagine how she’s gotten around with it for so long. I’m going to fix this problem as quickly as I can. She deserves better, and I will make it so.