Chapter 4
FOUR
Remy
Leilani Kostas is breathtaking.
Not simply because her lips are soft and she's giving me the most genuinely surprising kiss I've ever had in my twenty-nine years.
Not because she went up on her toes and pressed into me like she'd been waiting all morning for the chance.
Not because the deck is small and the springs are shimmering in a weird way and the cypress trees overhead are leaning in like they want to listen.
It's the entire package. The way she fits against me even though she's quite a bit shorter. The way her hair smells like fresh water and coconut. The way she's here — present, awake, unguarded — in a way most women I've kissed haven't been.
I have kissed, for the record, a number of women. I’ve been the Playboy of Paradise Springs for the bulk of my adult life, even if the title has been more reputation than reality. I’m familiar with what a first kiss feels like.
This is not a typical first kiss.
This is… I don't even know what to call it. The kind of kiss that, when it ends, you have to immediately recalibrate the rest of your week around figuring out how to do it again.
She breaks the kiss first, pulling back maybe an inch. Her eyes are still closed.
"Oh," she says.
"Yeah," I agree.
She opens her eyes and looks at me with what I can only describe as alarmed desire. "I don't do this."
"Kiss strangers on tiki bar decks?"
"No. Any of it." She steps back, smoothing her hair with the heel of her hand. "I’m not looking for a guy."
"For what it's worth," I say, "I don't do this either. At least not lately. I've been in what one might call a quiet stretch."
She gives me a look like she doesn't quite believe me, which is fair. But the truth is I haven't been with anyone in more than six months, and I haven’t even minded. Part of me knew I was waiting for something — someone — to surprise me.
And here she is.
She fans herself with her hand. "It is very hot out here all of a sudden."
"Mmmhmm."
"Like. Very hot."
"It's Florida."
"I think it’s the cypress trees, Remy. They're holding the heat in."
I grin. "Sure, blame the trees."
She laughs, that real, full-bodied laugh she did when I fell off the platform, and I have to physically restrain myself from leaning in to kiss her again.
People in this town say there's something about the springs that affects emotions. Something about the water that makes you accept the truth. The water lowers your walls, supposedly. I usually call that nonsense, a local legend I tell tourists. Today I'm not so sure.
A throat clears behind us. We both turn. Kate’s leaning in the doorway, holding a damp bar rag, her eyebrow arched. "If you two are done smooching, I have a delivery in ten minutes. You can continue this, but there’s a guy coming with kegs soon, and this is his path to the bar."
"Sorry," Leilani says, the word coming out in a half-laugh, as if she’s embarrassed.
“Dude, sorry,” I tell Kate.
She snorts in response and gives me a Damien-is-going-to-hear-about-this-and-so-is-your-mother look.
"We were just saying goodbye," I say.
"Sure, sure. Great meeting you, Leilani. Come back on a slow afternoon when we’re open, I’d love to chat when I have more time." She disappears back inside.
Leilani presses her forehead into my chest. "I'm so embarrassed," she manages.
"My fault. Come on. Let me walk you to your truck."
In the parking lot, the gravel lot is hot. My Jeep and her truck are parked a few spaces apart. We stand for a beat at the back of her pickup, neither of us moving to open the driver's door.
"So," I say.
"So."
"Numbers?"
"Numbers." She digs her phone out of her bag, hands it to me, and I tap mine in. She tucks it back into her bag and looks up at me. The morning sun is making the gold in her hair sparkle, and I stare, mesmerized. I have lost the purpose of what we were doing.
"I'll… I’ll text you," I stammer.
"I'll text you back."
She rises onto her toes again and kisses me on the cheek. It is the most chaste, dignified kiss I have ever received, and I have to lock my knees so I don't visibly react to it.
"Drive safe," she says.
"You too."
She climbs into her truck and fires it up. She backs out, gives me a little wave through the windshield, and drives off down the river road.
I stand in the lot for several minutes, wondering what just happened.
“Remy,” Kate shouts.
I turn and shield the sun from my eyes with my hand. “Yeah?”
“Four for four,” she hollers. “The Hastings spell is intact.”
I wave her off and walk toward my Jeep.
Four for four. I know exactly what she’s talking about.
My father walked into the springs with his jeans on, the day he met my mother.
Damien and Kate found each other again right at this bar, just feet from the springs.
Max and Lauren had their first kiss on the shoreline of the springs.
Tate and Bella didn’t meet at the springs, but a gator in the area brought them together (we think it was Pete, but there’s some debate over that point).
I've always thought what happened to Dad and my brothers was a family coincidence. But Ma has always said the springs are magical, especially when it comes to love. I was skeptical of that, since Ma has a thousand different stories about things around town.
Today I am reconsidering. Slightly. I’m now in the driver’s side of my Jeep and the first thing I do before turning the key is pull out my phone. I open a new message to the number I just got. I stare at the empty text box.
You don't usually text first. You let them text first. That's the rule.
Screw the rule.
Hey. I'm glad I fell off that platform today.
I hit send before I can talk myself out of it. Then I sit in the parking lot of Lime and Salt staring at the screen like an idiot until — twenty seconds later — the three little dots appear.
I grin. The dots disappear. There’s no reply.
I wait. Thirty seconds. A minute. The dots don't come back. Huh.
She’s still driving and she’ll text when she's parked. I start the Jeep and drive off, grinning.