Page 5 of Don’t Hook the Merman

“I can help,” Luke said quickly. “I can pull you out of the water.”

“My tail,” the person said. Or that was what it sounded like he—presumably he—said. But that couldn’t be right.

“Your what?” Luke asked.

“My…legs. I need⁠—”

Luke was almost there now. He jumped off the rocks and ran down the last stretch of sand, hurrying toward the partially submerged man. The new direction had the morning sun shining directly in Luke’s eyes, diffracted and intensified by the lingering fog, and he couldn’t see clearly at all. He tried to shade his eyes with his hands, but the glare was too strong.

Luke knelt anyway, trying to ignore the shock of cold as the surf immediately soaked his jeans up to his hips. “I’m going to grab your shoulders and pull you out,” he warned.

“Yes,” the stranger said. And then he murmured something that sounded like, “Blood. Just need a little.” But again, that couldn’t have been right. Or maybe the guy was delirious, and he thought he was already in a hospital. Fuck. Was he bleeding out somewhere?

Luke reached for the man’s shoulders, but the guy’s arm shot out and stopped him. He grabbed Luke’s wrist with surprising strength, pulling Luke’s hand to his face, which was hidden by the mass of wet, tangled hair. Luke was too taken aback to even try to move away. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “I’m not gonna hurt⁠—”

Luke broke off his reassurances. Because the stranger was…licking Luke’s palm. Once. Twice. Luke sucked a harsh breath between his teeth. It was the same palm he’d scraped on the rocks, and it hurt like a bitch. “Um…”

But the stranger was already letting go of Luke’s wrist, the moment of madness finished before it had started. “I’m ready.”

Okay, then. Definitely delirious. Luke shook off the weirdness and wrapped his arms around the man’s torso, freezing-cold seawater drenching his shirtsleeves as he did.

Luke wasn’t a small man, but as broad as the guy was, he was a heavy burden. Still, there was no one else to help, so Luke used the leverage of his legs as best he could and hauled.

Slowly—so unbearably slowly—Luke dragged the stranger up the sand, out of the reaching waves. Luke’s last, desperate tug landed him on his ass, the stranger following, and Luke ended up sprawled on his back in the sand, the man half-draped over him, their legs tangled together.

And yeah, the guy was definitely…naked. Like fully, totally nude.

What the fuck had he been doing out there without so much as a swimsuit?

Luke shrugged out of his wet jacket as quickly as he could manage while being pinned down by such a solid weight. He was able to sit up enough to lay it over the guy’s lower half, covering him somewhat decently. Not that a wet jacket was going to do much in the way of warmth. The man wasn’t shivering somehow, but still, he must have been freezing.

And the guy’s feet…Jesus. Luke stared for a moment longer than he should have. They were a rough sight, all torn to shit, with cuts and bruises and scabs all mixed together. How had this guy even gotten into the water with feet like that? Or had his feet been mangled in the water, torn apart on the rocks somehow?

The stranger gave a shudder and seemed to gather some strength, rising onto his arms to loom over Luke in the sand, their legs still tangled together down below.

The position of the guy’s head finally blocked the glare from Luke’s eyes, and…well. Maybe Luke’s brain short-circuited for a minute. Because this guy was…beautiful. Truly, absurdly pretty for a man. He had a wide mouth and a long, straight nose, with eyes tilted up at the corners that were such a dark blue that Luke thought for a minute they were black. Paired with all that blond hair, it was…disconcerting. Especially considering how large the man was. It was like a bodybuilder / male model had somehow found his way to Pine Bluff’s waters and washed up on the shore.

The stranger was studying Luke just as closely, and Luke became very aware of how much of their bodies were touching. It wasn’t exactly sensual, since Luke’s legs were fucking soaked and freezing and there was sand everywhere sand could be. But he was…aware. Yes. That was the word. Aware.

Luke swallowed hard. “Um…”

“Thank you,” the stranger said solemnly, his voice still that odd, soothing balm. “I’ve been stuck.”

“What happened to you? How—how long have you been here?”

The stranger cocked his head, considering, his gaze roaming over Luke’s face as if studying him. “A while.”

Luke waited for more, but that was all that came out. So he was going to completely ignore the first question. Noted.

Before Luke could ask anything else, the stranger spoke again, his dark eyes crinkled at the corners, like he was amused by something. “So much hair.”

Luke’s cheeks went warm. He definitely should have shaved this morning. And yeah, he was probably in desperate need of a haircut, a fact that had been pointed out to him by his sister more than once in the last few weeks. He probably looked like a vagabond, especially compared to this…adonis.

Luke cleared this throat. “You too.”

It was only halfway true. The stranger had the long mane on top of his head, but he was notably hairless everywhere else. Not that Luke was looking everywhere else. But the guy’s chest was bare, so that was obvious enough, and he didn’t even have a dusting of hair on his forearms, which were right in Luke’s line of sight. Maybe the guy was some kind of…elite athlete, and he had to shave it all off for speed.

Stop thinking about stupid shit mid-rescue.