She turns to me, her giant, blue eyes shining. "I knew there was a reason why I wanted to be friends with you. You're one of those guys who gets it. I'm glad I met you."
"Friends. Exactly." A strange feeling blooms in my stomach. Since I'm a confirmed bachelor, why are her words affecting me so much? It's probably because of what she revealed about her ex. That's it. The thought of a man harming her makes me ill. There's nothing lower than a guy who hurts women.
Let's hope her ex doesn't get it in his brain to come after her in Cypress Grove.
Because she's got me in her life now, and that dude will never touch her again. Never look at her, either. Because if he comes within a mile of her, he's going to have me to deal with. I'll protect her, no matter what.
That's what friends are for, right?
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.
Here in Cypress Grove, I feel my heart opening every day with beauty. It's almost cliché to say, but it's true. I run through my mental to-do list as I lie in bed. Today, I need to go to the hardware store to pick out fixtures and sinks for the bar. But on a day this gorgeous, all I want is to be at the spring in my bathing suit, floating in 72-degree water.
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."
