Selkie

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-one

Spending the night with Ian was amazing. I woke up in a sunbeam tangled in his arms and felt - for the first time since this crazy adventure began - sated and safe.

He was still asleep, and I studied the delicate way his lashes rested on his cheeks. How could someone's eyelashes be that long, that full, without the aid of any makeup? His hair looked lighter that morning; with the sun playing through it, he was almost blonde. He must have gotten up after I'd fallen asleep and shaved because his face was as smooth as cream. I remember wondering about that, but in my love-soaked eyes, it seemed like a thoughtful gesture. Clean-shaven, Ian looked like some sort of sun god. He was a masterpiece.

I stayed in bed as long as I could stand it before following the smell of coffee and sausages that beckoned me down the stairs to the pub.

Ian slept like the dead. He was lying on his back with his face turned toward the empty space I'd left in the bed. Every inch of his chiselled chest was exposed, with the tousled sheets wrapped around his lower half. I took a mental picture and had ample time to do it. He didn't so much move when I crashed around the room getting ready for the day. I wasn't even trying to be quiet. I remember singing softly to myself, but Ian never stirred.

The eggs and coffee were to die for; I took a pass on the sausages but ordered some for Ian so that breakfast would be ready when he came down the stairs.

It was still early when he did finally join me. I was on my second pot of coffee and practically vibrating, but we made it on time for the first crossing on the Scrabster ferry. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't falling for Ian. Hard.

We stood on the deck, and the wind tousled his hair like we were straight out of a gothic novel. Our night together had been magical, and standing in the sea air, he was the very picture of literary masculinity.

"I can't believe I met my Mom."

"Where do you think she disappeared to?"

"I don't know, but she took my phone."

Ian stood behind me with his hands on the railings on either side of my hips. I could feel the length of his body pressed against my back. He felt solid and safe.

I nestled in and felt his scruff catch in my hair.

"Your beard grows alarmingly fast. My brothers would be so jealous."

"It's a blessing and a curse," he chuckled, and I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to bring Ian home to meet my mother. Would he join my brothers in a game of touch football? Would he bring Mom a potted plant and compliment her garden? Would he be rude and sullen like he was when we first met?

I got lost in my imaginings when Ian pointed to the water. There was a pod of orcas swimming alongside us. It was magical and terrifying; I felt that same song bubbling up again.

"Lads and Lasses, if you look over the starboard hull, you'll see a pod of Orcas coming unusually close to the ferry. This is a rare sighting on this crossing, and I commend it to your attention. Welcome home to the locals, and if you're visiting with us, remember to take all safety precautions as you explore the beautiful wilds of the Orkney Islands. We'll be coming into port in the next 15 minutes."

The voice coming across the staticky speaker had a heavy brogue, but I made out most of what it was saying. The orcas were getting agitated the closer we got to shore. They nosed the ferry and circled us as we slowed down to come into port.

The other ferry-goers crowded onto the deck and watched what looked like a choreographed dance oo-ing and awe-ing, but I didn't see a dance. I saw a deadly ritual. They were out for blood.

It's silly, I know, but something about it felt threatening.