Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Jackie
I didn't sleep last night.
I lay in my new bed, in my new house, listening to the waves crash against the shore beneath my window and I didn't sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw pulsing blue patterns in the dark behind my lids.
Every time I turned over, I felt the phantom press of a broad chest against my back, a strong arm locked around my waist.
And every time I started to drift off, I'd feel it again. That impossible softness of a tentacle brushing my cheek, and I'd be wide awake, staring at the ceiling with my heart hammering and my entire body on fire as I imagined those tentacles slipping on bare skin.
Those tiny suckers wrapping around my body in places I have no business picturing them.
I'm no fool. I know I'm a total creep, fantasizing about a man I don't even know.
A rude man. A rude, jerky, jerk-face of a man.
But a sexy one.
By the time the sun comes up, I'm exhausted and irritated, mostly with myself. I get ready on autopilot, moving through the motions of a normal morning while my brain replays glowing patterns on a loop.
I'm just about to leave for work, keys in hand and coffee tumbler balanced precariously in the other, when I hear the crunch of tires on the gravel outside. The sound of an expensive engine purring smoothly draws my attention to the window.
A sleek black Mercedes pulls up beside my weathered Subaru, looking completely out of place next to my practical car, like a fashion model who accidentally wandered into a hardware store. The contrast is almost comical, but I'm not laughing. I know exactly who's behind the wheel.
I step onto the porch, watching as my brother emerges from the driver's side, designer sunglasses perched on his perfectly coiffed hair.
He's wearing what I'm sure is a thousand-dollar jacket over a silk shirt that probably costs more than my monthly grocery budget.
His Italian leather shoes gleam in the morning sun as he strides toward me, arms outstretched, face splitting into that familiar charming grin that's gotten him out of trouble his entire life.
He looks like a puppy wagging his tail after chewing the sofa.
I hate that little flutter of happiness at seeing him. I also hate that, try as I might, I never truly stay angry at him.
"Jax!" he calls, using the childhood nickname only he ever used.
I stand there, frozen between contradicting emotions.
There's anger that he's shown up unannounced after our text exchange.
Frustration that he's here at all, intruding on my fresh start.
But there's also a small, undeniable flicker of happiness at seeing my little brother's face.
He may drive me crazy, but I still love him.
He's my only family now that Dad's gone.
"Chase," I say, my voice carefully neutral. "What are you doing here?"
He pulls me into a hug before I can dodge it, smelling of expensive cologne that's too heavy for the crisp coastal morning.
"I wrapped things up in the city," he says, releasing me. "Thought I'd surprise you! This place is amazing, by the way. Talk about ocean views!"
"I'm heading to work," I tell him, checking my watch. "I don't have time for this right now."
"Work?" He looks genuinely surprised, as if the concept of a job with regular hours is foreign to him. "Come on, can't you call in sick? I just got here!"
I take a deep breath. I have the idea to turn him away and tell him to drive back to whatever scheme he failed at in the city, but I dismiss it as soon as it comes up. If he's here, it's not because he suddenly misses me. It's because he needs me.
And I'm the only person he's got left.
"The guest room is made up. You can go in, make yourself at home."
"Of course." His smile falters as he understands I'm not staying home for him. "I'll see you after work, right?"
"There are ground rules, Chase," I state firmly. "No parties. No 'borrowing' my credit cards. And this is temporary. Understand?"
He rolls his eyes dramatically but raises his hands in surrender.
"Fine, fine. Ground rules. Got it. Such a drill sergeant." His smile returns, white, large and boyishly charming. "It'll be great, Jax. Just like old times. You and me."
Just like old times. That's exactly what I'm afraid of.
"I have to go. We'll talk more tonight." I step around him, heading to my car.
"Hey, at least give me the Wi-Fi password!" he calls after me.
I pretend not to hear him as I drive away, watching his expensive car grow smaller in my rearview mirror.
I roll down the windows and let the cold morning air slap some sense into me.
By the time I pull into the gravel lot at Flippers and Feathers, I've almost convinced myself that the events of the last few days, namely my little brother crashing in with me and the glowing kraken I can't stop thinking about, are less significant than my sleepless night is making them seem.
Almost.
Once inside the rescue center, I inhale deeply. The place smells like herring and vitamin supplements, which should be revolting but is barely registering in my foggy brain.
I find Mira in the treatment room, already checking vitals on the smallest of our seal pups. She looks up when I walk in, takes one look at my face, and tilts her head.
"Rough night?"
"I'm fine," I lie, pulling on gloves. "Just adjusting to the new house. The waves are loud."
Mira hums, unconvinced but kind enough not to press.
"I actually went for a walk on the beach to explore a little, you know?" I grab the blender jug and set it on the counter to start helping Mira. "The coastline near my place is incredible. I walked all the way to the lighthouse, and then I climbed all the way to the catwalk."
"You went inside the lighthouse?" Mira's hands slow on the herring. "You know it's forbidden, right?"
Oh no, not Mira, too! What's so special about that lighthouse anyway? Is this some sort of town sacred spot or something? The cult of the Saltford Bay lighthouse does have a zing to it, I guess.
"The door was open! I figured it was some kind of public lookout.
" I shrug, already feeling defensive. "The views from the top were amazing.
I was just standing there, enjoying the sunset, minding my own business, when this guy comes up through the hatch behind me and starts ordering me around like he owns the place. "
"A guy? What guy?" she asks, her webbed fingers deftly sorting supplements.
"He threatened to call the sheriff on me, would you believe it? After I apologized. Twice!" I say, aggressively measuring fish oil before pouring it into the industrial blender. "I nearly fell off the catwalk. He scared the hell out of me."
Mira leans against the counter, her eyes sharp with interest. "What did he look like?"
"Tall. Really tall. And soaking wet, like he'd just climbed out of the ocean.
" I dump a measured portion of chopped herring into the blender, the plastic measuring cup clanking on the side.
"He wasn't even wearing a shirt, mind you.
And he was dripping wet, like in some thirst trap video or romance novel cover.
And his hair…" I gesture wildly, nearly knocking over a container of calcium powder.
"All these tentacle things moving around his head. "
"Wait. Tentacles?" Mira freezes mid-motion. "You mean he's a kraken?"
Mira looks at me with wide eyes, totally absorbed in my story. I stupidly feel encouraged to continue.
"Yes." I shake my head, widening my eyes to highlight how incredible that is. Krakens aren't known to come on land. They're even less known to roam around shirtless, looking like a manly-man chest buffet.
No. Not a manly-man chest buffet. There’s nothing delicious about that kraken guy, I admonish myself. He was super-duper rude. Remember?
"Isn't it incredible? I got scolded by a half-naked kraken on my first day."
Mira's eyes widen almost comically.
"Jackie… that was Orvik."
"Orvik?" The name doesn't register. Is he some sort of celebrity I don't know about? It would track with all that grumpy handsomeness. Not that I care. Or that I can still feel those tentacles on my cheek.
Jeez. Down, girl. Remember how rude he was.
"Orvik Fenmoor." She's grinning now, trying to suppress her laughter. "He's Saltford Bay's harbormaster. That’s why he tossed you out of the lighthouse; it’s his job!"
My hands freeze mid-pour.
"The harbormaster?"
"The one and only." Mira's musical laughter finally breaks free. "Oh, this is too funny. He’s a bit grumpy, but he’s perfectly harmless!"
"A bit grumpy? The man practically scolded me like a child. He only shut up when I called him a handsome jerk."
Mira opens her mouth, and something shifts in her expression, like she's weighing whether to say something or not. Finally, she draws a breath.
Before she can speak, the center's emergency line rings, its shrill tone cutting through our conversation. Mira's demeanor shifts instantly from amused to alert as she grabs the phone.
"Flippers and Feathers," she answers crisply. Her expression grows serious as she listens. "Location? Thorn Rock Shoal. Okay, I see. We'll be there in an hour, tops. Keep your distance. Don't approach it."
She hangs up and turns to me.
"Harbor seal pup, severely tangled in fishing line out at Thorn Rock. We need to move, now."
All thoughts of glowing krakens vanish as I snap into professional mode.
"What do you need me to do?"
"Grab the marine mammal rescue kit from the storage room. I'll call Callum."
Mira is already dialing as I sprint down the hall.
I return moments later with the heavy rescue backpack, my heart pounding with adrenaline and purpose. This is why I'm here. This is what I trained for. My first rescue.
Mira meets me in the hallway, her expression grim.
"Callum's at that coastal management meeting in Portland."
"Can we handle it ourselves?"
She shakes her head.
"We need boat support. I've called the harbormaster."