Page 58 of XOXO, Valentina

Kennedy continued talking, listing reasons I should go to Costa Rica. I tuned her out while she blabbed on about a yoga retreat, surfing, and acai bowls. My mind drifted to Joey as she prattled on.

Four days later, I stepped onto the dirt airstrip in Nosara, Costa Rica, carrying a suitcase stuffed with sensible vacation outfits, a few outrageous swimsuits courtesy of Kennedy, and two paperbacks I hoped I wouldn’t have time to read.

I should have been exhausted. My long day of travel had begun at the crack of dawn with a two-hour drive to Charlotte, followed by a six-hour flight to San José and a forty-minute flight on an eight-passenger plane to Nosara.

A colorful sign announced I had arrived at the surf-and-yoga capital of the Nicoya Peninsula, but there was nothing but dirt and weeds for eternity. The sun blazed overhead, baking everything in sight to a brown husk.

After the plane took off and the family of four who’d traveled with me from San José boarded a shuttle bus, I was alone on the abandoned strip of concrete.

Joey had warned me the Nosara Airport was hardly more than a drop zone, but I hadn’t expected to be in the middle of nowhere. Other than a shed and a few bicycles propped against a chain-link fence, there was nothing to see but dirt, grass, and blue sky.

I dragged my suitcase to the only shady spot around and stopped when I heard a rumbling sound in the distance. A cloud of dust rose along the dirt road in front of a black truck. I almost squealed when I recognized Joey behind the wheel.

The truck stopped, and Joey hopped out, looking even more handsome than I remembered. How could that be when he’d been drop-dead gorgeous in Mossy Oak a few days ago? His smile was radiant as he strode across the field to greet me. Scooping me off my feet, he buried his face in my neck and kissed the sensitive spot below my ear.

I knocked the baseball cap off his head and threaded my fingers through his hair, holding him closer than I would have dared to at home.

“I hope you weren’t waiting too long,” he said. “The roads are bad from a big rain yesterday.”

I silenced him with a kiss. The spicy-sweet taste of him filled my senses. I locked my legs around his hips and clung to him. The sun beat down on us, and a breeze lifted my skirt. I hadn’t felt this free in years, and I wanted to drink in every moment.

Joey shifted his hands to carry more of my weight and walked me back to the truck. He pulled open the door and set me inside, then scooped me close again, settling himself between my legs.

“Did you miss me?” His hands slid under my dress to cup my hips.

“Yes.” I braced my hands on his shoulders, feeling the flex of his muscles beneath the soft fabric of his shirt.

“What did you miss most?” He nibbled my bottom lip. “My mouth?” His tongue skimmed over my top lip. “My tongue?” He yanked me closer, and I felt the hot steel of his erection. “My cooking?”

A laugh burst from my tight chest. His accent was thicker since he’d been home a few days, and I loved it. He seemed even more exotic in Costa Rica than he had in Mossy Oak. I curled my fingers in his hair, which was definitely in need of a trim, and tugged his head back to look at him. It was his eyes. I’d missed his eyes the most. Those dazzling, smiling, enchanting eyes. So dark brown they reminded me of a warm cup of melted chocolate.

“I missed everything,” I said.

The grin I’d missed so much beamed. “I have so much to show you, Gabriella,” he said. “I have a full night planned for us.” He dipped his head and kissed me firmly on the lips. “We should get going.”

26

Chapter 23

Joey

The rocky, dust-covered roads curved dangerously and were riddled with hidden potholes. I drove at a snail’s pace, giving Gabriella plenty of time to comment on the scenery as we crawled by.

“Monkeys!” she cried, craning her neck to look out the window.

Monkeys were everywhere, filling the air with their chatter. The locals barely noticed them. They were as plentiful as squirrels in Mossy Oak.

I had to slow even more when we came upon the main part of town, where the roads had been carved from the overgrown vegetation.

Unlike many other beach towns, Nosara didn’t have a main strip along the shore. A thick buffer of jungle separated the shops and restaurants from the beach.

At first glance, Nosara seemed wild and remote, but it was a true paradise. The town had been built into the thick jungle, and the roads were a tangled mess, barely wide enough for a single car.

The town had a laid-back vibe with funky shops, boutique hotels, and cafés catering to vegans. Bikes and quads were more numerous than automobiles, and every other person carried a surfboard under their arm.

Visitors seeking a rustic beach town with surfing, fishing, and yoga found Nosara and didn’t want to leave.

“Everyone looks so happy,” Gabriella said.

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