Beckoning Spirit (A Romantic Paranormal Short Story) by Stacey Coverstone Page B

like a pony in order to keep up with his long-legged strides. The urge to stare at his physique couldn’t be squashed, no matter how she tried. The bulging muscles in his arms flexed with each swing of his limbs.
    They stopped at the end of the pier. A small commercial fishing boat bobbed like a buoy in the choppy water. Devin’s mouth gaped. Her cool eyes scanned the ancient, rusted-out rattletrap of a boat.
    Noting the name, Serafina , painted on the hull, she was aware that translated, the name meant angel. New Englander fishermen always christened their sailing vessels after the women in their lives. She stared at Kipp Sullivan’s powerful back and silently wondered about his muse.
    A picture formed in her mind. Serafina was probably as beautiful and sweet as her name implied—a lithe, fairy goddess with long legs, blonde hair and blue eyes that twinkled. Totally opposite from her, with her thick red hair and boring hazel eyes. She sighed. What difference does it make what his woman looks like?
    Devin studied the boat with a solemn countenance. “Are you sure that tin can will even make it out to sea?”
    He snorted. “I know she doesn’t look like much, but I guarantee, she’s sturdy and reliable. Don’t worry, miss.”
    “Who is Serafina?” she blurted.
    “Pardon me?”
    “Serafina. Who is she?”
    Kipp’s eyes fastened with hers. A vague unease snuck along her chest wall. She sucked in a breath and waited, wishing she hadn’t opened her mouth.
    He shrugged. “Don’t know. You’ll have to ask the retired seaman I bought her from.”
    Although she had no idea why the answer pleased her, she smiled and released the breath she held.
    “Is that a satisfactory answer?” he asked curiously.
    “Yes.”
    “Good. We’ll have time to chat later, if you want. But right now we have to shove off if we plan to make it to Monhegan before the storm hits.”
    She stared at the rollicking waves beyond. White frothy crests reminded her of horses’ manes. “Maybe we shouldn’t go after all,” she said.
    “Nonsense.” Kipp hopped onto the rocking boat and stretched out his hand to help her in. “You have nothing to worry about with me at the healm.”
    A spark caught the moment their fingers touched. When Devin grasped his hand and stepped into the boat, a jolt shot through her arms and raced through her veins. Her entire body trembled with the kind of awareness that comes when one soul meets its mate. Had he felt it, too? The perplexed look on his face confirmed that he had.
    “Did ya feel that?” he asked.
    “Yes.”
    “What just happened? It felt like volts of electricity coursed through my body.”
    Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe it was static electricity caused by the storm.”
    “Maybe.” He didn’t look convinced. “I’ve never felt anything like it before.”
    “Me either.”
    Kipp fixed her with a stare so intense it froze the muscles around her mouth. Neither of them moved until a wild pitch of the boat returned them to their senses. The rain suddenly fell harder and colder, and Devin shuddered.
    “I’m light headed,” she said, feeling a stir of strange memories flicker through her mind like the frames of a movie. “I haven’t sailed in a while. Must be anxiety kicking in.”
    “Let me move these lobster traps out of the way.” Kipp released her hands and shoved the traps with his foot. They slid across the bottom of the boat to the opposite side. “Come sit in the wheelhouse,” he offered. She did, and he reached into a storage box and pulled out two rain jackets with hoods. “Here ya go. The rain could still blow in on us, so this will keep ya dry.” He handed her a jacket and suggested she put the hood over her head. He slipped the other coat over his own shoulders. “Are you going to be all right now?”
    She nodded in response. “Thank you, Mr. Sullivan. I mean, Kipp.”
    He began to guide the boat carefully away from the dock. “You haven’t told me your name