Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“Hello to you, sir,” Monty greeted him. “Do you speak?”
“No, he’s just a normal cat,” Henry told him. “Thankfully. Can you imagine what he would have to say?”
“Monty!” Iris hissed.
Finn looked back to find the pelican attempting to see if Checkers would fit in his beak.
“I wasn’t really going to eat him,” Monty said with a fluff of his chest feathers.
No one in the room seemed overly convinced of that fact.
“Maybe we should order some food,” Finn offered.
“Yeah, that might be a good idea,” Iris agreed.
As he reached for his phone, he caught Iris sending the pelican a stern look.
“Well, I’ll get going. I have a lot to set up.”
“I told you I’m not getting my toes snipped.”
“Toes snipped?” Finn asked.
“It was a whole thing,” Henry said, sighing.
“I’m not deforming myself because you don’t like my feet.”
“Anyway,” Henry went on. “I have to set up Iris’s spa treatments, her etiquette classes, and get the ball rolling on the wedding plans. We are cutting things dangerously close. You and me, tomorrow, nine.”
“What’s tomorrow at nine?” Iris asked.
“The gym. He also wants to change my looks,” Finn told her.
“Just your calves. Shorts season is coming. We can’t have you caught on the golf course with subpar calves.”
“I don’t understand,” Iris said. “I thought you managed his campaign, not his appearance.”
“They are one and the same. Welcome to politics,” Henry said.
With another reminder of the next day’s itinerary, he was off.
Finn led him to the door, and when he came back, he heard Iris hiss, “Triton’s beard, Monty, what is wrong with you?”
When he rounded the corner, he saw her lifting his cat into her arms and away from the pelican, who had a bit of fur clinging to his beak.
“I’m impressed. He won’t even let me pick him up.”
Iris said nothing to that as she sat down on the sectional, trying to put the cat to her side, but he climbed back onto her lap and immediately started to purr.
“He’s vibrating. Is that a good thing?”
“That’s a very good thing. He likes you. And that,” he said as the cat started to press his paws into her thigh, “is called making biscuits. I only know that from the extensive cat research I had to do when Henry made me take him home, not because he’s ever done it to me.”
“Henry is … a lot. And that is coming from someone with an older sister who is taking her future on the throne with a grave sort of determination and thinks everything I say or do is embarrassing or inappropriate.”
“Did he insult you?” Finn asked. He was surprised by the way his stomach boiled at the idea.
“Oh, only about everything about me,” she said, sighing. “I’m too fluid. My voice is too wishy-washy. My toes are weird. I don’t know what talk shows, town halls, or diners are …”
“Your voice is not wishy-washy. It’s a little sing-song, but in a charming way. I think your gait is like night and day from yesterday. Talk shows, town halls, and diners are on his mind because they’re on my itinerary in the coming weeks and months. But there is plenty of time to learn about them. As for your feet,” he said, moving to sit on the coffee table in front of her. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to her feet.
She offered him a shrug, so he reached down to pull one foot onto his leg.
“Wow. Your toenails are naturally pink?” he asked, looking at the shimmery nails.
“That is something Henry liked. He said it would save a lot of time on pedicures. Whatever those are.”
“Then what’s the problem?” She had perfectly nice feet. Petite, even.
Iris sighed and spread her toes.
“Oh,” Finn said, surprised. There, between each of her toes, was a small amount of light, pearlescent webbing.
He couldn’t stop his thumb from moving out, teasing across the webbing, finding it warm and smooth.
A gasp escaped Iris, making his gaze shoot up.
Was that surprise?
Was she ticklish?
Or was it something else entirely?
He knew he needed to keep his hands to himself. He didn’t want to overstep a line. Especially when he didn’t know how willing a participant she was in this arrangement yet.
Yet, there was no stopping himself from letting his finger do one more innocent swipe.
Iris stiffened as she sucked in her breath.
Watching her face, he saw the furrowed brows of confusion, but the hooded lids of desire.
“Are your land legs new to you?” he asked, his head tipped to the side.
“Yes. Yesterday was the first time I’ve ever really used them.”
And then there was Henry, forcing her to walk around his apartment because he didn’t like that she had a ‘fluid’ walk. He knew his campaign manager well enough to know that when he said ‘fluid’ what he truly meant was ‘sexual.’
But she was a mermaid.