The Scent of Salt & Sand: An Escaped Novella

by Kristin Cast

  Dean lifted his hands, gently cupping her face, and Melody stopped breathing as he bent and covered her mouth with his.

  The taste of him surprised her. There was wine on his breath as it mingled with hers, but there was something else, something mysterious and alluring. He captivated her, filling her world with his kiss. At first he was gentle. His lips brushed hers and she felt him smile as he murmured, “Your lips are so soft I could kiss you all night.”

  She opened her mouth to say something, anything, and he claimed her, deepening their kiss so that his tongue began to tease hers.

  She’d dreamed about being kissed like this—in the moonlight, standing in the sand with the ocean caressing her feet—but her dreams had only been the fantasies of a girl. They were nothing compared to the reality of this man. His touch, his taste sent shock waves crashing deep within her.

  She wanted more. She yearned for more.

  Tentatively, Melody returned his kiss, letting her tongue flick against his. The low moan of pleasure that rumbled from Dean encouraged her, and she slid her arms up over his chest to rest on his wide shoulders. His embrace tightened around her, making her insides hum and her skin shudder. She pressed herself to him, dizzy with the cacophony of new feelings the heat of his body thrust against her. Soft, familiar waves cascaded over her skin, pulling her into Dean with almost as much force as she was pulled to the ocean.

  His lips left hers and began working their way down the curve of her neck. Melody shivered and opened her eyes. Moonlight glinted off the slick emerald green rippling to life across the arm she’d wrapped around Dean’s shoulder.

  Panic made her stomach lurch sickeningly.

  “Wait, Dean! Please stop.” She pushed against his chest, and he took a few steps back to keep from falling. Her body vibrated with the change from skin to scales, and she quickly wrapped her arms tight against her chest. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I’m not free. I’m not who you think I am. I have to go.”

  She splashed to shore, and, without grabbing her shoes, tore through Aquatic Park and sprinted to the safety of her San Francisco home.

  As she darted through Ghirardelli Square and up the stairs to the back entrance of the Fairmont, she silently reprimanded herself for leaving behind her shoes and Dean without a real explanation.

  “He’s never going to want to see me again.” Tears burned her eyes and she wiped them away quickly, surprised and embarrassed that the thought triggered such a response.

  She removed the keycard from her wallet. The lock flashed green and she let out a deep sigh as she walked into the dark apartment.

  “That didn’t seem to go as planned.” The light flicked on and Melody squinted against the sudden change.

  She blinked. Harmony stood in the living room, hands on her hips disapprovingly. “You were watching me?”

  “I promised your mother I would protect you.” They had only been in the Mortal Realm a couple of days, but age was already deepening the lines around Harmony’s eyes and mouth. “And it’s part of my duty as Caretaker. I have to make sure none of you get caught.”

  “But you can’t spy on all of us all the time. There’s only one of you.”

  “Unless something happens and Rhapsody makes an appearance.”

  Melody felt around for the couch and collapsed onto it. Waves of heat swirled up from her stomach and rippled through her slowly trembling limbs. “Why, why would she come here?”

  “She makes the trip when she thinks one of the girls might cause a problem.” Harmony’s gaze narrowed.

  “Me? I just got here. I’m not causing any problems!”

  “I just watched one unfold across the street.” Harmony thrust her finger toward the floor-to-ceiling window behind her. “He clearly wanted you. Why did you run?”

  “Because,” she whispered. “I’m not like you.”

  “Melody,” Harmony sat down next to her on the couch and squeezed Melody’s hand, “I know losing your mother was hard for you; it was for me too. But it’s been years. It’s time to let go of the past and start a new future. One with a daughter of your own.”

  A daughter of her own? Her heart fluttered, and her vision hazed as bile surged up her throat.

  A dark-haired woman flashed on the couch next to her, filling Harmony’s seat, holding her hand just the same.

  “No.” Melody clutched her stomach as the specter brightened and dimmed just as it had that morning in the store.

  Mel, honey, this is so fabulous!

  The woman’s voice unleashed a pang of longing within Melody’s chest.

  I knew he would propose soon! I almost burst from keeping the secret. She clapped her translucent hands against her cheeks. Melody stared at her face, blazing in strong flashes against Harmony’s. This woman was so familiar.

  Now you have to hurry up and have a wedding so you can have a daughter of your own. I can’t wait to spoil a grandbaby.

  Nausea released its grip, and the otherworldly glimpses faded.

  “Next time you see him, you will do what you came here for.” Harmony’s voice echoed through choppy bursts of reality. “Melody, are you okay?”

  The vision was gone, leaving Melody awash in joy and heartbreak. “I can’t do what you do.”

  Don’t let them take him.

  Backed by another’s, her voice was stronger, more confident. “I’m not a monster!”

  She tore away from Harmony and dizzily stumbled down the hall to the safety of her room.

  A part of her knew that woman. Felt the deep love and the unbreakable connection only attached to a parent. Melody had that devotion to her mom. And now she ached the same way for this ghost of a woman.

  She flipped on the bathroom light and filled the sink with cool water. She splashed handfuls on her face before picking up a neatly folded washcloth. She dipped a corner of the cloth in the basin and wiped away the thick layers of makeup suffocating her face. With each pass of the cloth, her skin peeked through, pink with freedom. Her breath caught in her throat as she wiped away the last remaining lines of color. Her fingers traced the smooth, taut skin around her eyes and lips, as she stared into the frightened emerald irises looking back at her.

  “What’s happening to me?”

  Chapter Eight

  Dean tried to hurry after Melody, but the sand seemed to have a life of its own, trapping his feet and sending him to his knees. “I’m fucking soaked again, and again she got away from me,” he muttered to himself. Streetlights shaped like upside-down teardrops cast enough light that he could track Melody’s progress as she sprinted through Aquatic Park. He shuffled to shore and ineffectively wiped at the sand coating his soaked pant legs. When he looked up, she was jogging across Beach Street, and then disappearing into Ghirardelli Square. “Well, at least this time I know where she lives and where she works.” Determinedly, he bent to pick up both her shoes and his own, and began to follow Melody.

  What the hell had happened? Had he been too forceful with her? He hadn’t meant to be pushy, but she’d felt so damn good in his arms. And she’d seemed to be enjoying herself. He sighed and shook his head. Maybe it was time he gave in, and listened to what he’d been told all these years—to stop trying to understand women.

  “Women,” he huffed. “It’s like they’re a completely different species.”

  He continued slogging through Aquatic Park, mulling over the knowledge his Nana worked to instill in him. “Find The One, mio bambino, and spend your life trying your best to love her.” Nana said that was all any man could do. He’d told her that was an old-fashioned way to look at women, but she’d smiled that foxlike grin of hers and said, “Old fashion or old wisdom? Ah, you will see when you finally fall in love.”

  Dean stopped in the middle of the park like he’d hit a glass wall.

  Jesus Christ, am I in love?

  Dumbfounded, Dean just stood there, staring at the cream-colored lights that spelled out GHIRARDELLI SQUARE.

  “No, not possible. I’ve only known
her for a day.” He brushed a sandy hand through his hair. “We’ve only been out once. Sure it was amazing, and also a little confusing, but it was only one date. It can’t happen that fast, can it?”

  But there it was—the knot in his gut that he’d never had before. Not when he’d thought he’d fallen in love with Kristi in high school. Not when he’d almost gotten engaged to Adrienne just before he’d graduated from the police academy. Not ever before in his life. The truth was that no woman had ever made him feel the things Melody was making him feel, but whether that meant love or lust, or both, he wasn’t sure.

  “Well, I’m going to find out.”

  He kicked into a jog, hurrying to Beach Street, and fidgeted anxiously while a line of empty tour buses crawled past. He cursed, sure that Melody had already reached the Fairmont, and rushed across the street. He was halfway up the stairs that led to the heart of the square and the posh Fairmont Residences when the huge clock tower began to chime…and chime…and chime.

  Midnight wasn’t actually late for a date, but this date was unusual because they’d been together since early afternoon. First dates never lasted that long! Dean slowed, looking up at the exclusive condos for the rich and famous—and Melody’s large extended family. There were some lights on—even some fire pits still burning on private balconies—but what did he think he was going to do, throw rocks at windows hoping to find her?

  “Oh, yeah, that’d definitely impress her,” he said to himself. No, if he was going to see Melody again, and he was absolutely going to see Melody again, he needed a plan. A great one. Heading back to his nearby condo, confidence swelled within him as he pulled out his phone and pressed Nana.

  “Buonasera, mio bambino!” Nana’s voice, rich in years and love, answered before there were two rings.

  “Hi, Nana,” Dean said. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “Of course not. You know I’m a night owl. I don’t trust anyone who goes to bed before midnight. What is it, bambino?”

  “I need advice,” Dean said.

  “Financial or female?”

  “The latter.”

  “Fantastico! I’ll chill the limoncello glasses. See you in a moment?”

  “I’ll be there before the glasses are cold.”

  • • •

  Nana was a genius. Or, at least over a bottle of homemade limoncello she’d seemed like a genius. But now, in daylight, and with Dean sober and standing in the middle of a florist shop, he was having second thoughts.

  “Officer Dean, you stop that worrying!” The woman who owned Flush Floral patted him absently on the arm.

  “Are you sure I chose the right flower? Nana said it was important,” Dean said.

  “Of course the right flower is important! Your Nana is a wise woman. Okay, once more, tell me why you chose gardenias for your Melody.”

  “She’s not my Melody,” Dean corrected.

  “Not yet maybe, but I have a feeling it’s only a matter of time. Now, why gardenias?”

  Dean sighed and traced the broad, glossy, dark green leaves of the potted plant. Even through his nerves he had to admit that the fragrance of the white flowers was intoxicating. He just hoped Melody would think so too.

  “Dean?”

  “Oh, right. Sorry, Mia. My mind’s wandering a lot lately.”

  “A sure sign that you’re in love!” She grinned at him.

  He hunched his shoulders. “Okay, gardenia because I was instructed to find a flower that reminded me of Melody, and this one does.”

  “Because…” Mia prompted.

  “Because gardenias are beautiful and temperamental, but strong. They’ll thrive if you give them everything they need to grow. And I have a feeling that’s a lot like Melody. The leaves are really close to the color of her eyes, and the scent—” Dean paused and breathed deeply. “The scent is like Melody—unique and intoxicating.”

  “Perfect. And you got the fact sheet I gave you about them, right?”

  “Right. And you’re ready for the rest of my plan if everything goes the way I hope it will later today, right? It’s kind of detailed. I have a lot of weeks planned out.”

  “Officer Dean,” Mia patted his arm again, “I do surprises for a living. Trust me. I’ll have the first delivery to your Melody within the hour. The rest is up to you. Now go!”

  Dean went. He had about an hour, which was just enough time to get done the rest of what he needed to do. He’d learned that he needed to seduce Melody’s mind before he tried to jump her bones. Jump her bones had been Nana’s way of putting it. He’d tried to argue with the savvy old woman, but she’d skewered him with blue eyes that were so much like his that he could never hide anything from her.

  “Did you not tell me she fled your attentions at the end of your date?”

  He’d had to admit—again—that Nana was right. Everything had been going really well until one kiss had turned into another and another and she’d fled.

  “Fine, Nana. I hear you. I’ll seduce her mind. But what the hell does that actually mean?”

  “Language, Dean Alessandro. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Mental seduction. The concept is simple. The application of the concept, perhaps not so simple. Here is what you must strive to do—you must make her feel as if, in every room she enters, she is the best-loved woman there. If you can make her feel like that, your life together will be magnificent.”

  Bittersweet memories had darkened Nana’s lined face.

  “You miss him a lot, don’t you?”

  His Nana had smiled with such brilliance that beauty blazed through the years to make her look, for a moment, like a young girl in love again. “Yes, I miss your grandfather every day. But I have my memories of the fifty-two wonderful years we spent together. Your grandfather seduced my mind—and then I happily invited him to seduce the rest of me.” Her eyes glittered mischievously.

  “So, tell me how he did it. Uh, but not too graphically.”

  Nana giggled girlishly and sipped her limoncello, considering. “I think at the heart of it was the fact that my Alessandro made me feel as if he thought I was the most fascinating person he’d ever met. He was interested in me, not just my body parts. He showed me, day after day, year after year, that he cared about my thoughts, my desires, my dreams, and because I knew he cared about me like that, I knew our love would last.”

  Her nostalgia warmed him. “And it did last.”

  “You are very like your grandfather. I know you can do this—you can show Melody that your love is deep and strong enough to last.”

  So, Dean had set out to seduce Melody’s mind.

  He was going to send her flowers. Lots of flowers. But not make the “mistake most idiota men make when sending women flowers,” as Nana had said, referring to the generic bouquets of red roses men purchase on autopilot when they’re in trouble, just out of trouble, or worried about getting in future trouble. “To make it meaningful, choose a flower that represents Melody, and then find unusual ways to gift her with that flower. She’ll know you put thought into it, and that will make her put more thought into you.”

  “Flowers done,” Dean muttered aloud as he headed into the little restaurant after double-checking to be sure the bookstore across the street was open. “And now for the rest of my plan…”

  • • •

  The deliveryman from Flush Floral gave Dean a small nod of recognition as he left the Siren Tours office. Dean brushed at a spot of invisible lint on his shirt, and then the tinkling bell announced his entrance to the shop. He thought it was a good sign that Melody didn’t even look up from the package she held in her hands.

  “Well, well, well, hello there, handsome,” Harmony welcomed him with a clap.

  “Hi, Harmony,” Dean said. “Nice to see you again.” He was speaking to the tall blonde, but his gaze was trapped on Melody.

  At the sound of his voice, Melody’s head snapped up. “Oh! Dean! It’s you.” She clutched the box against her chest, her cheeks turning an adorable pink.


  “It’s definitely me.” He walked over to her, looking pointedly at the small bouquet she held in her hands. “I hope you like it.”

  “I do! It’s beautiful and it smells delicious. But, um, what is it?”

  “It’s easier to show you than tell you.” Dean held out his hand for the delicate bouquet. “May I?”

  “Okay, sure.” She handed him the cluster of three gardenias held together by a sea-green ribbon tied to a barrette. Then, just like Mia had showed him, Dean gently placed the flowers in Melody’s hair over her left ear. “Oh!” Melody exclaimed, touching the bouquet softly as she peered at her reflection in the large front window. “It’s so pretty, and now the smell will follow me around all day.”

  “So, you like it?” Dean asked.

  “Yes! Thank you, but you didn’t need to send me anything,” Melody said.

  “I didn’t need to, but I wanted to. And gardenias remind me of you.”

  “Really? Why that particular flower?” Harmony asked, joining them as they continued to check out Melody’s reflection.

  Dean recited the words he’d practiced with Mia, ending with, “So, these are for your eyes.” He sent the florist and Nana a flood of silent thank-yous as both women’s smiles widened.

  “He is right,” Harmony said. “The leaves are the same color as your eyes.”

  “Thanks again,” Melody said. “It’s a lovely gift.” A customer entered the store, pulling Harmony’s attention away from them, and Melody lowered her voice. “I’m really sorry about running out on you like that last night. I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me again. And I can explain. Sort of. If you give me the chance.”

  “You don’t have anything to explain or apologize for—I owe you the apology. I went too fast. It was unchivalrous of me.”

  “No, really. It’s my issue—my problem.”

  Dean tucked a stray strand of curling copper hair behind her left ear. “How about we talk about it over lunch? Can you take a break?”

  “She can,” Harmony said from across the room. “And don’t hurry back. I can handle things here.” She looked at Melody and her voice lost some of its musical lightness. “And I want to be able to tell Rhapsody that everything worked out for you two.”