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As a sailor, Owen had always been told to beware the sirens.
Good men would fall prey to the siren’s call, they’d whisper. It was hypnotic, just a single note could have you drowning.
Owen didn’t really worry about it; the sirens were always spoken about as beautiful women with long hair and luscious lips. Owen was attracted to none of those things.
Which is why, when he was alone on the deck in the middle of the night, admiring the stars, he was startled to hear a man’s voice calling from below.
“Sailor. . . Sailor. . .”
Owen was enraptured. He found himself making his way over to the edge of the boat and leaning over to catch a glimpse.
The man was a gorgeous, there was no doubt about it. His jaw was chiseled, sharp. He had big dark eyes and dark hair that was wet from the sea water.
He smiled charmingly at Owen. “Hey, sailor. My name’s Curt. What’s your name?”
Owen couldn’t stop himself from answering. “Owen.”
“Owen? That’s a pretty name.” Curt held out a hand to Owen, still smiling. A tail slapped against the water behind him. “Why don’t you come with me, Owen? I can take you somewhere nicer than this dingy old boat.”
Owen wanted to take his hand. It would be so easy. . .
He shook his head. “You’re a siren, aren’t you?”
Curt let out a playful huff of air. “I prefer the term mermaid, thank you.”
“You’re trying to kill me,” Owen accused weakly.
“Now why would I want to kill a cutie like you?” Curt countered. “Come on, sailor, don’t you trust me?”
Owen found himself nodding and taking the siren’s hand, and before he knew what was happening, he was being pulled into the water.
Owen woke up with the sun in his eyes, sputtering water out of his mouth, and Curt sunning himself next to him.
Curt gave him a cheeky grin. “Hey, sailor.”