Now, waiting for her onstage in his seaweed wig, he mouthed it to her again.
The sooner the better. And: I love you.
Her mother would appreciate that mantra. The sooner the better. Live your life. Take a wild leap.
Maybe Mum hadn’t meant “take a leap into the arms of a God of Seaweed while dressed as a sea slug,” but Lulu had to do it her own way. And she did, hitting her mark and launching herself into the air in perfect timing with Tristan’s movements.
He caught her and used her momentum to swing her over his head. He stabilized her with the oak-solid strength of his core muscles and his legs, braced as if he was on the deck of the Desperado. The crowd applauded wildly as she held her swan-dive pose for one breath, two breaths, three, held securely in his steady grip.
This was her life. Her unexpected life. Her seafaring love. Her newfound home.
The dream goes on, and on and on…
my heart is yours
wild as the ocean’s kiss
deep as the ocean floor