No. Ye loved him. I canna hold it against either of you that ye mourn him. And it gives me some comfort to know ..." He hesitated, and I reached up to smooth the rumpled hair off his face.
"To know what?"
"That should the need come, you might mourn for me that way," he said softly.
Prayer is an insurance policy that you can never lapse on.
Jaxton met his gaze for just a second, then scowled and turned away.
The recognition in that look was painful; years of recollections and long forgotten
emotions buzzed through his brain. Ashamed of the flare of attraction he'd just allowed
himself, he turned away and faked a smile.
Maybe I’m still the mermaid.
Maybe the ocean is your hand.