Island Love Songs. Kayla Perrin
two giant panes of glass enabling people to see into the water below the room.
“Oh, my God, I could stay in this room forever,” Richelle said, sighing happily as she sank into the sofa before one of the panes of glass. “Seriously—there are fish beneath our feet. Look!”
Melanie quickly hurried over to look, and sure enough, a school of fish was swimming among the coral beneath the room. “Breathtaking.” Then she faced Richelle. “As I remember telling you, sure the Caribbean is lovely, but why not do something different for your wedding? You only do it once, after all.”
Richelle grabbed a cushion off the sofa and hurled it at her. “You told me to do something different? Yeah, right! Remember your Jamaica solution? I’m lucky I even got you here!”
The two friends shared a laugh. “What I’m really saying,” Melanie began, “is that you made the best choice. We came halfway across the world, and it took forever, and I’m totally a nervous traveler, but this is absolutely the best spot for your wedding.”
“Mel, you’re going to make me cry.”
Melanie sat beside Richelle and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I’m happy for you, Richelle. I really am.”
“Thanks, Mel. And thank you for being here. You know I couldn’t get married without you.”
“And you know there’s nowhere else I would rather be right now. If I had to walk over hot coals to get here, I would.”
“Now I’m crying,” Richelle announced, and raised her hands to wipe her tears.
Melanie hugged her. “I love you, Richelle. You’re the sister I never had.”
“I love you, too. And I know you don’t want me to say it, but I don’t want you to give up on love. You’re going to have your own happy ending. And I still think Lawren—”
“Eh, eh,” Melanie chastised as she pulled apart from Richelle. “No talk about him, remember?” Melanie got to her feet. “Now as beautiful as this room is, I have got to get some sleep if I’m going to enjoy any part of this day. Don’t wake me up for at least four hours.”
Chapter 2
It was shortly after noon when Melanie woke up. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the sunlight streaming into the room. Then, upon coming alert and remembering where she was, she turned to her right to see if Richelle was still asleep.
But Richelle wasn’t there. Instead, there was a slip of paper beside her.
I’ll be on the beach at the island bar.
Call for a shuttle. It’s a long walk.
See you soon.
Love, Richelle
Melanie sat up, noticing that their luggage was now in the room.
She got out of bed, showered and dressed, and did as Richelle suggested. The shuttle arrived at her bure within five minutes.
As she rode on the back of the golf cart, she surveyed the resort. Fully awake now, she was even more dazzled by the impressive view of the lush foliage and beach. There were a number of rooms situated among the trees beyond the shore on the beach, which were lovely. But Melanie was glad that she was staying in an over-the-water bure. She could stay in a room on the beach anywhere. How often could she stay in a room that was actually on the water?
“How do you like the resort?” the driver asked.
“What’s not to like?” she countered. It was lovely. She saw people walking along the golden sand or resting on lounge chairs. All couples. This resort catered to adults, and clearly was a choice for men and women in love.
The beach was extensive, and she didn’t see Richelle or Roy on the portion that was visible. The driver continued on to the island bar, which was where they had originally arrived by boat.
She could hear the sounds of a live band before she saw the performers, and as the cart came to a stop, she looked around the small intimate bar with comfy cushioned seats and saw Richelle at the same time that she saw her.
“You’re awake,” Richelle said, rising to greet her.
“I’m awake.” Melanie drew in a deep breath of the fresh island air. “When did you get up?”
“About eleven-thirty. Then I called Roy and woke him up.” She smiled sweetly and rubbed his arm.
“What are you drinking?” Roy asked, looking up at Melanie.
“Is that a piña colada?” Melanie asked, indicating Richelle’s drink.
“Yep.”
“Then I’ll have one of those.”
“You’ll want to see how they make it,” Richelle said. “Fresh pineapple and fresh coconut. And the taste? To die for.”
“I’m sold,” Melanie said. When Roy began to stand, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll go get it.”
“Just tell Manueli to add your drink to my tab,” Roy told her.
“Why did you walk here with your purse?” Richelle asked her. “Just charge everything to the room.”
“Oh. Right. I didn’t think of that.”
“Please don’t tell me you have your phone in there,” Richelle said, giving her a knowing look. “No one is going to call you for wardrobe work on a film set this week. And even if they do, you’re taking a break, remember?”
“I can’t even play Angry Birds?” Melanie countered.
“No,” Richelle told her. “Good grief, there’s so much more to do here than be tied to your phone.”
“I was kidding,” Melanie said, though she did have her phone in her purse. Force of habit. “I was only thinking about paying for food and stuff.”
“Put all food and drinks on my tab,” Roy said. “I’m taking care of everything. I will be offended if you don’t.”
“Thanks, Roy,” Melanie said. “For everything. This place is amazing, and I already feel relaxed. Now how about putting off the wedding for a week or two? That way, we can stay in paradise longer.”
“Already working on it,” Richelle said as she took Roy’s hand and smiled at him. “Meet us at the beach once you get your drink. We’re headed down there.”
Warmth filled Melanie’s heart as she watched them stand and walk hand in hand out of the bar. As they strolled contentedly, Roy lifted Richelle’s hand to his lips and kissed it.
Melanie made her way to the bar. “Bula,” she said to the bartender, whose name tag read Manueli.
“Bula. You must be Melanie.”
Melanie’s eyebrows shot up as she sat on a bar stool. “How did you know?”
“Because your friend told me you would be arriving soon. Said to make you an extraspecial drink.”
“Richelle says you make an amazing piña colada.”
“One Likuliku piña colada coming right up.”
Melanie watched him cut slices from a fresh pineapple and put them in the blender, and then chop the top off a green coconut and pour the juice found inside into the blender, as well. He added some sort of cream, followed by a good dose of rum and ice, and then turned on the machine.
After about seven seconds of whirring, the blender came to a stop. Manueli poured the creamy concoction into a tall glass and presented it to Melanie. “Here you go.”
She sipped it. And felt like she had just tasted heaven. “Oh, my goodness. This is delicious! Thank you, Manueli. I’ll be back for more of these.”