Forgive My Fins Page 23

Anyway, after Daddy hears the circumstances, he’ll grant the separation in a heartbeat, and biker boy and I will be escorted back to the mainland before sunrise. If the sea gods are smiling on me, Quince will have a black eye to show for his efforts.

“Lily!”

I whip around to see Daddy swimming down from the second floor.

I didn’t realize how very much I’ve missed him until right now. For a second, I drink in the sight of him. He looks regal, as usual, with his graying hair trimmed shorter than the last time I was home. Tonight he’s wearing his Thalassinian navy dress uniform—a pale blue jacket decorated with pearl buttons and a variety of ribbons and shells of commendation—and looks one hundred percent the high and mighty king. Except for the smile that pops onto his face when he sees me.

“Daddy!” I squeal, and kick over to meet him at the base of the ramp. His arms wrap around me, cocooning me in his strong, protective shell. I nuzzle my cheek against his neck, and he rubs his over the top of my head. I always feel safe in Daddy’s arms. Nothing can hurt me.

“I have missed you,” he murmurs against my hair. “You should not stay away so long.”

“I missed you too, Daddy,” I reply, pulling back so I can look at his handsome face. The lines of maturity around his eyes look deeper than last time. “I just got so busy with schoolwork and the news team that I barely had time to sleep.”

“But you’re here now.” He releases me and grins. He looks years younger.

Back by the ballroom doors, Quince clears his throat. Loudly. I close my eyes and clench my teeth. I knew he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Daddy, this is—”

My dad jets away with a powerful kick before I can finish. I hurry after him, to stop him from killing Quince before I get a chance to explain. In an instant he’s in front of Quince, reaching for him. Oh, no, he’s going to choke the life out of him. Before we break the bond.

“Daddy, no,” I shout, moving to intervene. “He’s not—”

My jaw drops.

Daddy’s not strangling Quince. He’s hugging him!

I drift the rest of the way, staring in complete shock as my dad embraces the bane of my existence, who catches my eye over Daddy’s shoulder and winks. Well, if Daddy’s not going to strangle him, I will.

“What’s your name, boy?” Daddy demands, releasing Quince and pulling on his imposing king-of-the-ocean persona.

“Fletcher, sir,” he replies. “Quince Fletcher.”

Leave it to the blowfish to act all polite and respectful.

“Well, Quince Fletcher.” Daddy throws one arm around Quince’s shoulders and the other around mine, squeezing us together. “Welcome to the family.”

10

“I can’t believe he said that,” I mutter for the quadrillionth time. “I can’t believe he said that. I can’t believe he—”

“I get it,” Peri interrupts. “You’re in disbelief. Can we just stipulate the point and move on?”

Guess I know what Peri’s legal vocabulary word of the week is.

“But Peri,” I whine, “Daddy…likes him.”

Across the crowded ballroom I see Daddy introducing Quince to the members of the royal council, the ten most powerful merfolk in Thalassinia other than the king. They’re all smiling and laughing and nodding like they’ve never been happier.

I’ve never been more miserable.

Nothing about the last twenty-four hours has gone according to plan. First, the blowfish lures me into the library—as if I buy the whole Brody-was-too-busy-dancing thing. Then he kisses me. Then he can’t even swim! Now he’s convinced my dad and the entire Thalassinian royal court—the entire court!—that he’s my perfect mermate.

“Why didn’t you tell your dad it was an accident?” Peri asks.

“I tried,” I say, reliving those confusing moments in the hall. “But before I could say anything, he threw open the ballroom doors and—” I cover my face with my hands. “Well, you heard the announcement.”

“Who didn’t?”

“My daughter has bonded!” he shouted to the entire court assembled for my cousin Dosinia’s sixteenth-birthday ball. I’d completely forgotten about the party. Could the timing be any worse? (Oh, wait, this is my life we’re talking about, so clearly not.) The crowd’s cheer must have registered on tsunami warning systems on both sides of the Atlantic. Then, before I could blink, we were being passed around the room, getting hugs and congratulations from everyone.

When Uncle Portunus grabbed Quince in a giant bear hug, I made my escape to the buffet table. Peri pulled me out from behind the tower of candy-coated sand strawberries and beach plums. To my surprise, no one at the party came after me. They all seemed focused on meeting Quince.

“After the party,” I say. “I’ll explain everything as soon as Dosinia’s party is over.”

“How considerate of you,” a cold voice says from behind me. “You should win the cousin-of-the-year award.”

I twist around to find Dosinia floating under a swag of seaweed streamers, arms crossed over her well-displayed—maybe sponge-enhanced—chest, and glaring at me. She may be twenty-two months younger than me, but she’s always acted way superior. And way hateful. Like my primary purpose in life is to make her miserable, when it’s more like the other way around.