Chapter 36

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He pulled her nightdress over her head, then took off his shirt.

Every muscle rippled in shiny perfection. Layered atop his skin, his gold tattoos glimmered, swirls and circles complementing his powerful body, iridescent. The colors trailed all the way down.

"Lucy." He pressed his forehead to hers. "You are sexy."

It was a new word she'd taught him. Beautiful was good for most women, and gorgeous was perfect for a new haircut or outfit, but sexy was what his wife wanted to be called when she was naked and snuggled against him in bed.

Lucy rewarded his good memory.

Afterward, she threw her arms around him and held him close to her heart. Their bodies eventually cooled, and their heartbeats returned to normal.

Lucy stroked the well-muscled back of her loving husband. He shifted his weight to her side, curving around her protectively.

"I want to go out in the water with you," she said. "The next time you go out."

"It will be cold for you."

"You swam in it."

"Yes, like jumping into an ice current. It is invigorating."

"I want to show my parents my transformation."

"The water is too thick and dark for them to see you. You would do better to shift on their ship."

Her transformations weren't going well. She could still only get half of one foot to flatten out like a fin. It wasn't the front half, but the right half, her pinky, second, and third toes. It looked like an ACME anchor had fallen on just the half, not impressive or mermaid-like at all.

"Still, you should enter the water. You will see through a bright-green lens. It is similar to a vast alpine meadow, like the ones we saw in your Rockies."

"I want to go."

He rose and stretched. "Then get dressed. Your parents will be ready as soon as we want to go out."

Lucy's stomach lurched. "What? Why didn't you say that sooner?"

"Because your mother told me to take my time." He smiled at her lazily. "I took my time."

"Oh, you..."

He enfolded her in his arms and dizzied her with his sweet, loving, satisfied kiss.

Then he patted her. "Get dressed."

They met her parents down on the dock, at their sailboat. Her father greeted Torun gruffly. His salt-and-pepper hair blew in the late morning sun, the air cool enough to merit his patched red-and-black flannel.

Lucy's mother embraced her in a warm hug. Her dark eyes glimmered behind her familiar beaded glasses. "How was breakfast?"

"Delicious," Lucy said.

Torun beamed.

"Oh, well then, maybe you don't want this." She indicated the plain box of pastries she'd picked up from their favorite local bakery and two well-insulated hot chocolates.

Lucy snagged a crunchy bear claw. "Don't worry, I'm hungry again."

"Lucy-Boo!" Her dad called from the wheelhouse of their family daysailer. "Cast off!"

She assisted her dad, the pastry clenched in her teeth, and she also taught Torun the basics she knew by heart.

They were about halfway to the echo point, enjoying a beautiful day, when she suddenly got ill. She lost her pastry and hot cocoa over the railing.

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