Page 20

Chapter

Nineteen

THE MERMAID AND THE GRINCH

Madden

“All I want for this fucking holiday is her.”- M

S wimming with damn ugly fish. That’s one thing I thought I’d never do yet I did.

For her.

I’m a man who craves the thrill of speed and danger, but the sea? I don’t fuck with it.

There’s just something downright sinister about it. Never mind that you’re fish bait; it feels like the ocean it’s just waiting to swallow you whole. Maybe it is the fact that I’m entering their habitat, where I’m just a piece of meat to them. Or maybe it's that no one really knows for certain what lurks beneath the surface.

Yet, here I am, gliding through shark-infested waters, surrounded not just by those sharp-teeth fuckers but a riot of colors. Even my asshole self has to admit that the splash of colors around us is one stunning sight. The coral formations sparkle beneath us, and tiny as fuck fish dart like twinkling jewels—bright yellows, deep purples, and sparkling pinks— almost make me forget my annoyance.

Then I spot it. A large yellow starfish nestled between two rocks, its arms splayed wide. Most people would find the creature cute, I find it disgusting. Who thought a blob of gooey arms could be considered adorable? Sure, as fuck not me.

Why did I decide to spend my morning and afternoon doing this shit?

Ah, right.

The object of my fascination swims past me, her long brown hair trailing like strands of silk in the current. Willow. She looks like a mermaid— graceful and free, her laughter echoing through the water like an annoying but beautiful song that makes my chest ache. I can’t help but stop swimming and look at her, completely held hostage by her spell as she dances among the colors and the fish, lost in a perfect harmony of beauty.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

She laughs like nobody is watching as she plays with a baby shark, her wild and carefree spirit radiating through the water. It’s enough to make my chest tighten— it feels like an invisible force is squeezing the breath right out of my lungs.

I don’t want to feel anything. Not for her and not for anyone.

As if sensing me staring, Willow glances my way, and our eyes meet. Hers full of life and mine well… I don’t really know what she sees.

A wide smile spreads across her face revealing perfect white straight teeth. She beams as she waves, her small hand cutting through the water like a gentle wave. I feel my heart stop for a moment, captivated not just by how damn pretty she looks smiling at me as if my mere presence brings her joy but by the pure happiness radiating from her. Her blue eyes always sparkle with warmth, even when she’s sad. How? She’s not real… the voice in my head whispers.

As I look at her everything else fades away. She is a lovely vision of enchantment, and I’m utterly spellbound by everything that is her.

Joy.

Love.

Magic.

“Are you having fun?” she signs, her lips moving with a bright smile. But from this distance, I can barely hear her.

Willow was always the happiest surrounded by nature and as sweet and as kind as Willow is, I truly believe she prefers plants and animals over people.

Hell, I do too.

Because people hurt her once and fuck, they hurt mine too.

Nodding, I offer her a small smile even if it hurts but that's not fully true is it? Smiling used to hurt but with Willow it doesn't. With her, smiling feels natural and… freeing.

I watch as she visibly gasps and then her smile takes over her entire face.

How rare… seeing me smile makes her heart happy.

Fucking fairy… What is this feeling in my chest?

I watch her as she goes back to interacting with the fish, her movements happy and playful. She twirls in the water, laughter bubbling up as a shark swirls around her, most likely the nightmare with creepy eyes is drawn to her sweet and kind-hearted spirit. I read somewhere that animals can sense someone’s good and bad intentions. Maybe that’s why they all have gravitated towards her and not me.

Suddenly, Willow starts to dance, lost in her own world, every movement radiating happiness. My heart beats up a storm in my chest, the unfamiliar thrill coursing through me.

And while I look at her dancing in the sea, I realize that I’ve never truly been alive until now— only during races or when I’m with her. Watching her, I feel something move in my stomach. For fucks sake… she’s given me butterflies. Goddamn butterflies.

I can’t tear my eyes away, not even when I try to force myself to look away.

I’m so fucked because slowly I’m losing myself in all that is Willow O Sullivan and her sweet magic.

When I wake up in the morning, my first thought is of her, and it's the last thing on my mind as I go to bed at night. All day, I wonder what she is doing, if she’s eaten, and whether she’s happy. She’s taken over my brain completely since the moment we crossed paths after all those years, and now she’s all I see and think about.

Now here I am, watching her dance underwater, and my heart is pounding like it’s just as captivated by the wild beauty with kind eyes and a sweet heart.

Shiiit.

An hour later, I stand near a palm tree, arms crossed, watching Willow as she kneels in the sand rearranging seashells by size and colors. Her wild brown curls dance in the breeze, and I can’t help but notice how the setting sun catches the stray bits of sand clinging to them. She’s in that tiny green bikini with lemon print that has been torturing the fuck out of me all damn day. I’ve been fighting the urge to rip it off her just to see her completely bare, but what drives me mad is that other men got to see how beautiful she looks right now.

She’s not only beautiful but her body is every man’s dream.

Her curves make me want to do filthy things to her— things that would make a whore blush.

I don’t think she knows how gorgeous she is and that makes her even more enticing. Fuck, she doesn’t even notice how most men look at her. How that bitch Ethan looks at her. Like he’s dying to get a taste of her and explore her every sinful curve.

And while her curves drive a man like me mad with need to claim her, it’s the curve of her smile that I crave the most. I find myself doing things I’m not particularly comfortable with just to see her smile. Like right now.

She’s so focused on crafting her sandcastle that she doesn’t notice me standing back, just staring at her. Seashells scatter around her—ones I found for her— and I can’t help but lean in a little closer.

“Can I help?” I find myself blurting out of nowhere, the softness of my voice surprising me even.

She looks up, her face lighting up as if I’ve just offered her the world, yet she looks nervous. I hate and love that I make her nervous. She lifts her left hand and signs, “Of course,” then she pats the spot next to her for me to join her. “This castle needs a dark king,” she whispers playfully, signing the words with a grin.

A dark king…Only she would see me that way. Only ever my Wild One.

Trying to hide how much the sweet shit she says and does affect me, I roll my eyes but can’t suppress a small chuckle. “I’m no king, Willow. Villains and evil ones are more suited for me, don’t you think?” I sign, too. I always want her to use her voice around me, but I also want to make her feel comfortable. Sign language is part of who she is, I never want her to be anything but herself.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, Willow looks offended on my behalf. Surprisingly, I can’t help but smile at that.

“You’re not a villain or evil,” she murmurs, as she looks down at a salmon pink seashell on her lap.

“I’m not?” I ask, studying her profile.

She shakes her head, her curls bouncing as she does.

“What am I, then?”

A long moment passes before she lifts her head and gives me her pretty eyes. I’m left breathless, captivated by blues the same shade as the sea in front of us.

Her voice breaks the silence, barely above a whisper. “A hero. You’ve always been a hero, Madden.”

A hero.

You’ve always been a hero, Madden.

Her words hit me like a wave, crashing into memories I thought I’d buried. I remember being a young and angry boy, standing up for the girl who painted his gray world against the cruel whispers and taunts. I’d felt strong then, fiercely protective of her. As the memories crash into me, my heart stirs with an emotion I still can’t fucking place.

Sympathy? No, I don’t think so. It’s much more than that.

My fingers sift through the sand, looking for something to distract me from the sudden rush of emotions that confuse the shit out of me. The tide laps gently at the shore, as the sun sets turning the sky into a beautiful shade of pink but my mind is tangled in Willow’s words. A hero . It feels strange, almost foreign, yet it settles in a way that makes me proud.

Her hero.

Is that what she thinks of when she looks at me?

As I dig deeper, something catches my eye. I brush aside the sand, revealing a heart-shaped seashell. I pick it up and inspect it closer.

Huh.

I swallow hard, a knot forming in my throat. “Willow…” I open my hand, revealing the heart-shaped shell.

“Oh…” she whispers, her eyes widening. She takes the seashell from me, her fingers brushing against mine and sending a warm jolt through me. Willow holds the shell close to her heart, as if the small and simple gesture means the world to her.

So sweet.

So damn kind.

So, her.

The weight of her gaze is heavy, and I lean in closer until I’m just a breath away. “Would you like to have dinner with me?” The question escapes before I can second-guess myself, my heart racing as I wait for her response.

Her eyes widen in surprise, a lovely blush creeping across her cheeks. Fuck, I love when she blushes. I’m starting to become addicted to it. “D-Dinner? Just us?”

“Yeah. Just us.” I’m still trying to figure out why I said it, but the smile creeping onto her face feels like the right answer.

Because of that perfect fucking smile.

After what feels like an eternity she nods, shy but excited, and I can’t help but grin back.

Maybe I can still be that hero she sees in me—this time for more than just defending her.

Perhaps I can be the man that can paint the world for her.