"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 whatI'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."
