Page 90 of Bewitched By the Sea Monster
His movements slowed and another of those comforting purrs pulsated through him as he said, “Look up, Pippi. Can you see?”
I angled my chin back, expecting to find more warbling curtains of fog.
Instead…
“Oh!”The ragged gasp ripped from my lungs. Because starsglittered overhead.
Dull stars, of course. Ribbons of smog wove between the twinkling lights and snaked around the waning moon, diminishing most of their brilliance. But, in that moment, afterdaysof not being able to see the sky, the sight of those distant, twinkling lights had a big, slithering ball of emotion clogging the back of my throat.
I hadneverseena starry sky that looked as gorgeous and as awe-inspiring as this one.
“This is the only place to see the lights,” Alistair said. “Sometimes even here they’re hidden. But this is a good night. And the orb…the moon is out.”
“It’s gorgeous,Alistair!”
“It is,” he murmured. “Lovely.”
Oh goodness.
He had to usethatword, huh?
Heat scorched my cheeks.
And, well, I’d been fixing to ask this.
“Can you…” My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and I had to work to pry it free. “Can you…peeppeople’s dreams? Or…”Gosh, this wasn’t coming out right. “Givethem dreams?”
“No?” Confusion wrinkled Alistair’s voice.
“It’s just…I had a dream last night…about the stars…andyou?—”
“And me?”
“—and then tonight you surprise me with this. Which, it’s a great surprise. I love it. Truly. I’ve beenreallymissing the sky. And I’ve always enjoyed sitting under the stars on a nice night. Jackson usually doesn’t, but…that’s not the point. I’m so very grateful you’ve brought me here. But it made me wonder about the dream. Y’know?”
If the poor guy wasn’t confused before, he certainlywas now.
“I think so,” Alistair said slowly.
“I’m sorry. Babbling.” I ran a hand through my hair, wincing when my sweaty palm stuck to the curls. “It’s what I’m good at.”
He quieted for a heartbeat. Two.
Some very loudheartbeats. My organ had a motor on it that would put a monster truck to shame.
“I…You dreamed ofme?”
He said this kindly, but with a flirtatious lilt.
“Yes.” I had to smile. “I dreamed ofyou.”
He made an interested whuffle. “I hope I wasn’t being…na…n-n-n-n-naughty.”
How did his brain go right to that?
How?
Was I that obvious?
