Chapter 9
NINE
Leilani
The next day, I wake in bed — alone — and turn my head to peek through the open curtains at the brilliant blue of the Florida sky.
I love how my bedroom window faces the east, allowing the morning sun to pour in.
So different from the room I had shared with Brent, which was in a giant, suburban house.
The views there had been of the other homes and a construction site.
And running into a man with honey-colored eyes.
I sigh out loud and flop onto my back. Chances are good that I won't see Remy again, at least not for a while.
Not after last night. My gut tells me that once a woman informs a man that she'd rather just be friends, he'll vanish.
Remy will likely send me a few halfhearted mentoring emails, and then I probably won't see him again until the final Chamber of Commerce announcement of the contest winner.
Plus, I'd told him all about my ex, and he'd looked at me with pity. I couldn't stop talking, though. It was as if I'd felt comfortable enough to tell him my entire life story at one point.
My phone vibrates, an insistent buzz on the top of my bureau across the room.
It's probably Mom, wanting to know how Mermosa's coming along.
I've asked her repeatedly to visit, but she's been cagey.
Probably her husband's up to some shady shenanigans and she doesn't want to admit that to me.
My guess would be that she's bailed him out of more gambling debt.
I fling the covers off and climb out of bed, grabbing my phone on the way out of the room. Surprisingly, it's not Mom. It's a number I don't recognize. Oh, perhaps it's the air conditioner guy; I've been trying to get the unit at the bar serviced.
"Hello?"
"Mornin'. How did you sleep?"
A zing goes through my stomach. "Who's this?"
Of course, I know that growly, baritone voice because it's somehow imprinted in my brain, but I don't want to come off as too eager.
"You forgot about me already. I'm heartbroken. It's Remy."
"Oh hey," I say, grinning. "Didn't expect to hear from you."
"Really? Why?"
I drop onto the sofa, pulling my nightshirt over my knees. "No reason. I just figured you were busy and stuff."
"We're friends, right? And as your mentor, I thought I should take you around town and give you a personal tour.
Introduce you to some other business owners, tell you some history of the town.
Take you to brunch or lunch or whatever.
You up for that today? Sorry to call last minute, but my charter was cancelled, so I've got the day off. "
I sit for a moment in stunned silence. Well, this is unexpected. "I'd love to, but I need to make a run to the hardware store."
"I'll take you and help." He pauses. "I mean, I'm not trying to be all masculine and say that you need a man to go to the hardware store. But I'd be happy to tag along and haul stuff in my truck."
Is this really happening? Brent had always laughed at me whenever I offered to go to Home Depot for something house-related. "That would be nice. Thank you."
"Okay. Pick you up in what, fifteen minutes?"
"Fifteen minutes?" I yelp. "I just woke up."
"Ah. I'm a fisherman. I get up at the crack of dawn."
"Give me an hour. I'll text you my address."
"You want donuts? Coffee? I'm stopping on the way."
"That would be amazing.”
"I'll be at your doorstep in an hour, beautiful. Oh, and pack your swimsuit."
I laugh. This could be fun, having a friend like him. A handsome man at my beck and call, one to bring me donuts and run errands with me.
"I think those sinks are perfect. And you were right about the touchless faucets, excellent idea. I can't wait to see the bar come together." I talk for a few more minutes as Remy sips from his mug of coffee, staring at me. Oh, gosh, I'm babbling. "Sorry."
I take a giant slurp of my iced coffee.
He frowns. "Why are you apologizing?"
I shrug and look around Ice Ice Baby. It's the cutest shop, done up in 90s nostalgia, including Backstreet Boys posters. So clever. Remy had asked if I wanted to stop before we began our tour of the town, and I'd eagerly accepted. Now I’m tapping my foot to “U Can’t Touch This.”
"Maybe I'm starved for human interaction or something. I'm talking too much."
He grins and shakes his head. "You're not. Or, if you are, I don't care. I like listening to you."
I scrunch my nose. "Really?"
"Really. And why are you starved for human contact?"
"Well, I've been here four months and you're the first person I've had a long conversation with." Heat blooms on my cheeks when an image of me and Remy kissing on Kate's deck comes to mind.
Which should mean that spending time with him as a friend is awkward.
Except it's not. Oh, sure, the tension is there every second, simmering in the background.
But in the moments when I don't get lost in his gorgeous eyes or focus on his muscled forearms — or stare at his hands, remembering how they'd felt on my jaw — it's surprisingly easy to let go and be friends.
"I'm honored to be the first person you've interacted with." His eyes glitter. "And became friends with. Now. For the tour. I was thinking we'd start here on Main Street and end at my family's resort. Did you pack your swimsuit?"
"I have it on under my dress." I pluck the hem of my pink, cotton, maxi dress.
"Good. I was thinking we'd take a dip in the pool at the Magnolia Grand. That okay with you?"
"Perfect."
"Cool. Let me pay for this and we'll get going."
I grab my purse. "No, I can pay. You're taking all this time out of your schedule to shuttle me around."
Remy stands and kneads my shoulder as if he's giving me a massage. "I've got this, no sweat."
My stomach tightens as he walks away. It's pretty pathetic that a decent guy with basic manners impresses me so much. It dawns on me, like that blast of sunshine this morning, that what I'd had with Brent messed me up more than I wanted to admit, and it's going to take time to become whole again.
For the next two hours, Remy shows me Cypress Grove.
He seems to know every shopkeeper, every server, every person on a bench in front of every storefront.
I get a tour of Flamingo Groove (the record store) and a hug from an elderly lady who runs a souvenir shop that also sells tarot cards.
She gives me a discount voucher for beach towels I don't need.
I get the back-of-house tour at the Haunted Hearth. Half the people Remy waves to ask if I'm the new mermaid girl. Word travels in Cypress Grove, and by the time we're finished, I think half the town now knows about my business. I can't stop grinning.
Then we stop at his family's resort.
The Magnolia Grand pool is long and blue, ringed with palm trees and weather-bleached lounge chairs.
We swim for an hour. Remy keeps the conversation light, makes me laugh, doesn't stare at me too long when I'm climbing out. The water feels different than spring water. It’s warmer, chlorinated, ordinary. I find myself missing the spring.
The drive back to my place is short.
Remy pulls up to my house in his Jeep and puts it in park, but doesn't kill the engine.
He turns to me with a grin and I hesitate. We've had such a perfect day together. Should I invite him in?
"I hope I was helpful today." I notice his hands are still on the steering wheel.
"You were so helpful. I really appreciate it."
"Good. I'm glad. We'll talk in a few days, but don't hesitate to call me if you need to, okay?"
I nod, because I get the distinct impression that he's got somewhere to be. My hand goes to the door. "I will. Thanks again. I'd invite you in, but you've probably had enough of me."
His gaze drops to my mouth. "I'd love to, but I promised Ma I'd go to her house tonight. She has some project involving an indoor dog house for Steve. Raincheck?" His right eyebrow cocks up and he smiles.
"Anytime," I murmur, climbing out of the Jeep with the hugest grin on my face. I give him a wave as I make my way to the door, feeling a little self-conscious because my dress is wet from my bathing suit.
I can't help but notice that he waits until I've unlocked the door and am safely inside.
I let out a sigh. "Such a gentleman," I say out loud.
My phone chirps, and I reach in my bag while slipping off my flip-flops. This time, it's Mom.
"Hey! I was going to call you tonight." I put the phone on speaker and pad into my room.
"You sound happy," she says.
"I am, actually. The bar's coming along well, and I've made a friend," I practically holler while I change out of my wet clothes and slip into a fuzzy white robe.
"Oh? Tell me. A male friend?"
I glance at my hair in the mirror, pulling it back in a ponytail. "In fact, yes. We're working together on a Chamber of Commerce project. He's my age, single, and..."
Dreamy?
Gorgeous?
Hilarious?
I step closer to the phone. "He's quite nice," I say primly.
Mom chuckles. "Quite nice, eh? I think I've heard that one before. Oh, Leilani. You're just like me. You can't resist a good-looking man."
I flop onto the mattress. "We're just friends, Mom."
"Of course you are," she says in a singsong, the one that's both cynical and maddening. But, since I've just had an amazing day, I choose to ignore it.
"How are you? You coming to visit soon? I haven't talked with you in a week. You haven't returned my calls."
She sighs. "Well, dear, that's the thing. I'm afraid I won't be able to come visit right away."
"Why not?" I frown and pick at a loose thread on the robe's belt.
"I've left Frank."
I sit up straighter. Finally. "Oh, Mom! That's great news. I mean, I'm sorry. But you know that I never warmed to Frank. Why don't you come stay with me for a while? I have a pull out sofa that's actually pretty comfy."
"I know, dear. But I haven't told you the other piece."
My stomach sinks, because I know this probably won't be good news. "What's the other piece?"
"Well, I've fallen for someone, and I'm moving in with him."
"Mom," I yelp.
"I met him at work. He's an administrator. We've known each other for years and his divorce finally went through."
I grimace. "Oh, no. Why can't you be on your own? You have the money."
"Leilani, you know how it is."
"No. I don't know how it is. I left Brent and have been on my own for—"
"For four months. And look at you, you've already made a friend."
I open my mouth to protest, to tell her that no, my situation is nothing like hers. But the words don't come out.
"Mom, I don't know what to say. It seems a little sudden."
"You'll get to meet him sooner or later. You'll love him."
"Hopefully later," I grumble, the nagging feeling inside of me growing. I dislike the idea of Mom being with a new man, and downright hate the idea that she's making any parallels between her new relationship and what I have with Remy.