“ANGEL? LOGAN? WANNA PLAY BALL?” MICHAEL’S
shadow fluttered on the filmy netting draping their hon-eymoon cabana door. Private island getaways didn’t need doors—unless one expected a six-year-old to make an appearance.
Logan helped Angel smooth the sheet on the bed, then checked himself in the mirror. They’d had to scramble into their clothes when Mariana had done the first loop around the island. Good thing Angel’s sister had a big set of lungs—half the Caribbean had probably heard her warn them Michael was on his way.
One more reason he’d be indebted to Mariana for the rest of his life.
He didn’t mind in the least.
“Come on in, Michael.” Logan brushed past Angel, unable to prevent himself from touching her shoulder, then he pulled back the netting.
“Oooh, awesome!” Michael bounced in—of course— and picked up the crystal sculpture Mariana had given them for a wedding present.
“Awesome? What happened to ‘cool’?” Logan said, rustling his son’s hair. The hat had been left back in Florida on Rocky’s head. Michael had decided it wasn’t proper wedding attire, and Logan liked the symbolism that change represented. His son was willing to accept Angel in Christine’s place.
“‘Cool’ is a little kid’s word. Since I swam with sharks and dolphins in a whirlpool, I’m all growed up.” Logan put his arm around Michael’s shoulders and tugged his son against him. He didn’t want Michael to be all “growed up”; he’d barely had any time to enjoy
his son as a child.
But he definitely would enjoy the children he and Angel made together.
The look in her eyes said she was thinking the same thing—and couldn’t wait to get back to practicing any more than he could.
He stepped out onto the patio to check the angle of the sun. A few more hours until his in-laws took Michael for a “cool”—no, make that “awesome”—un-derwater vacation, while he and Angel began a week’s worth of uninterrupted, deserted island honeymoon. Sounded like heaven to him, though Zeus had assured him after the ceremony that the deserted island was nothing like Olympus.
Logan didn’t care. Anywhere Angel was, was heaven for him.
“Oh, look! A rainbow!”
Michael darted out of the cabana, a finger pointing toward the beach.
Just offshore, a full rainbow arced across the ocean. “Rainbow said I can remember her every time I see
one, and she’s right!” The little boy took off down the beach, kicking up sand behind him.
“Hi, Rainbow!” he called, running toward the water until Angel’s sister rode a wave onto the beach, grabbed Michael around the waist, and sent him back to his father.
Not that Logan was worried about sharks anymore. Zeus had promised him there’d be no more of that in Michael’s life, and Logan didn’t want to ever drag Michael away from a rainbow. Not now, knowing what one represented. Christine’s name choice was easy to understand.
“A cowrie for your thoughts.” His wife—his wife— snuggled up under his arm in the beautiful peasant blouse and shirt Nadia had sent with Michael as a wed-ding gift. Someday he’d have to talk to his mother about her psychic abilities.
And find out how much she knew about Mers.
He kissed the top of Angel’s head and nodded at the ocean. “Rainbow.”
“Hey, Angel! Didya see it?” Michael bounced back onto the porch.
“I did, Michael. Isn’t it beautiful?” She tilted her head back to look up at Logan, that gorgeous blonde hair flowing over his arm, her teal blue shirt the perfect foil for her hair and eyes. “Did you know that, in Mer mythology, a rainbow is said to represent the unity of heaven and earth? Over the ocean, it represents the unity of all three.”
Logan reached out for Michael and drew him into a hug with Angel.
His wife and his son. Unity of all three. A family.
As normal as any under the sun. Or under the sea.
He could live with that.