CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ELLIOT
“Elliot. ELLIOT.”
Liz’s voice cuts through the chaos in my head and I blink, dragging my attention away from Captain Barnacle. The sea turtle gazes back at me lazily, one flipper twitching against the table as though he’s just as reluctant about today as I am.
His wounds had finally healed. The infection cleared, his shell patched up enough that he was ready for release at the sanctuary tonight.
But I wasn’t ready to let go yet.
Not him.
Her.
She’s our mate. We can’t let her go.
My sea lion’s possessive growl rumbles low in my chest and, for once, I don’t argue with him.
Catherine Prescott had crashed into my life like one of Crescent Cove’s summer storms—wild and beautiful and impossible to ignore. Somehow, in the span of a few weeks, she’d become woven into every part of my day. Every quiet thought. Every future I’d never bothered imagining before.
I scrub a hand down my face.
I only had a few weeks left to convince her to stay.
She’d come over for dinner and swimming twice since the first night in the pool, getting braver each time. During the first lesson she’d clung to me like a life raft. The second time, she’d floated on her own for nearly ten seconds before panicking and nearly dragging me under with her.
I’d pretended not to notice the way she buried her burning face against my shoulder afterward.
Confidence wasn’t built overnight.
But goddess, she was trying.
Strong. Smart. Funny in that sharp, sarcastic way that kept me constantly on my toes. Beautiful enough to make coherent thought impossible some days.
She just needed to see herself the way I did.
“Elliot,” Liz says again, slower this time. “What is going on in that head of yours?”
I glance over to where she’s carefully lowering Captain Barnacle into a travel carrier. “Sorry. Been staying up late.”
“Clearly,” she says dryly. “I’ve never seen you so glazed over in all the years I’ve known you.”
I shrug, muffling a yawn behind my fist. Even on nights Catherine wasn’t at my house, I stayed up researching grounding exercises, meditation techniques, anything that might help her stabilize her magic.
Water witches with magic as strong as hers were rare enough already.
Water witches tied directly to unstable ley line surges?
Nearly impossible to find information on.
Liz studies me for a second before a sly smile spreads across her face.
“You gonna bring that girl to the full moon beach party?”
I pause halfway through cleaning my station.
“That girl” wasn’t exactly subtle.
“If by ‘that girl’ you mean Catherine Prescott,” I answer, keeping my expression neutral, “then yes.”
Liz grins like a shark scenting blood in the water. “Good. We’ve all been dying to meet the girl who finally hooked the infamous Elliot Fitzgerald.”
I roll my eyes so hard it physically pains me. “I’m not infamous.”
“Please. Half the town thought you were allergic to commitment.”
“That’s not true.”
“You once told a woman at the summer bonfire that your sea lion needed freedom.”
“In my defense, she asked if I wanted to move to Nevada. Where there is no ocean.”
Liz bursts out laughing while the others nearby snicker.
I grab my bag before she can keep going. “Do you need help getting him to the sanctuary tonight?”
“Nah, we’ve got it covered, boss.” She shoos me toward the door. “You already pulled overtime all week after that dolphin rescue. Go home. Sleep. Pine dramatically over your mystery girl.”
“I do not pine dramatically.”
“You literally stared at that turtle for ten straight minutes looking like a divorced sailor.”
I point at her warningly as the team laughs harder. “You’re all fired.”
“See you at the party!” Liz calls cheerfully.
I shake my head, unable to stop the smile tugging at my mouth as I crouch beside Captain Barnacle one last time.
“Hang tight, little man,” I murmur, tapping lightly against his shell through the bars. “You’ll be back swimming in the big blue before you know it. Maybe I’ll catch you in the waves sometime.” I grin faintly. “Just stay away from human garbage, yeah?”
The turtle blinks slowly.
I grab my keys and head out.
The drive home is quiet, windows down, salt air pouring through the truck. By the time I pull into my driveway, I can already feel the ocean tugging at me. A restless pull deep in my bones.
I need the water.
I toss my wallet and keys onto the kitchen counter and strip out of my clothes by the back door before heading down the sandy path toward the beach. Cool grains shift beneath my feet while the tide rolls lazily onto shore, the setting sun beginning to light the waves like fire.
The second the water reaches my knees, I let go.
Magic rushes through me in a familiar pulse as my body shifts smoothly into my sea lion form. I dive under the surface, instantly weightless.
Relief floods me.
Sunlight filters through the water in fractured gold beams while currents slide over my sleek hide. I pump my tail hard, shooting through the ocean like a torpedo before spinning in a tight circle just because I can. Bubbles stream around me as schools of silver fish dart away.
Down here everything is simple.
No deadlines. No expectations.
No Catherine-shaped ache lodged between my ribs.
I surface briefly for air before diving again, patrolling the coastline while my thoughts drift right back to her anyway.
Catherine was getting more comfortable with me every day. More relaxed. More open.
She laughed easier now.
Teased me back.
Looked at me sometimes when she thought I wasn’t paying attention.
But summer is nearly over, and eventually one of those companies will call her back. Anyone with eyes can see she’s brilliant and hardworking and ambitious as hell.
She’d be a catch for any corporate firm.
So what exactly could Crescent Cove offer her?
What could I?
She isn’t the kind of woman who’d give up her dreams for a man. Honestly, I’m not sure I’d even want her to if she did.
And for all I know, this thing between us is temporary for her. A summer fling. A fake boyfriend to pass the time before she escapes back to the city.
Maybe when she leaves, that will be it.
No calls.
No visits.
No more sharp little smiles or sarcastic comments muttered under her breath while she fights with her magic.
Something tightens in my chest at the thought.
I dive deeper, slicing through a school of fish just to stop thinking for five damn seconds. They scatter around me in shimmering flashes, vanishing into the dark water.
I let the current carry me farther down the coast, letting the ocean quiet the restless noise in my head.
In two nights, I’ll take her to the full moon beach party.
I’ll show her bonfires and music and dancing barefoot in the sand. Show her the version of Crescent Cove I’d fallen in love with years ago.
Show her what staying could look like.
I just don’t know if it will be enough.
Still, even if she leaves at the end of summer, I’m determined to help her regain control of her magic before she goes.
And maybe, if the goddess is feeling merciful, she’ll leave with a reason to miss me too.