of dirty clothes to the laundry room, and as she separated her laundry, she found Justin’s white T-shirt she’d kept the night of the book club meeting. She pressed it to her nose, inhaling his manly scent, bringing all those tingles back to life.
Great. Now she missed him even more.
She debated not washing the shirt so she could sleep with it on her pillow, like a pillowcase, but decided that would make her like a lovesick teenager. Ugh. Was this why her sister and her friends all mooned over their men? She took one last sniff and forced herself to throw his shirt in the washer. Before she could change her mind, she threw more whites in, covered his shirt with detergent, and turned the washer on. She grabbed a bucket and broom and padded into the living room, making a plan to get rid of the sand by dumping it in the woods at the edge of her property. It would take a hundred trips, but she could use the exercise. It felt like that enchanting night had taken place yesterday, and at the same time, it felt like a month had passed since she’d opened the door in her hula outfit and been swept into Justin’s arms. She queued up one of her upbeat playlists, and Matchbox Twenty’s “3 AM” rang out. She bobbed her head to the music as she pulled open the glass doors that led to the porch.
Her jaw dropped at the sight of it. All the sand was gone, and her outdoor furniture had been put in its rightful place. She couldn’t believe it. Justin must have cleaned it up one day this week while she was at work. As grateful as she was that he’d gone to all that trouble to clean up, she was a little sad that the remnants of their first intimate evening together were gone.
She set the broom and bucket down and stepped onto the porch. He’d left the tiki lights up. The blanket they’d lain on was folded neatly on the table. Beside the blanket was a mason jar. Her pulse quickened as she picked it up and realized there was sand in it, and a piece of paper. She unscrewed the top, taking out a handwritten note from Justin. She recognized his slanted writing.
Memories of our unforgettable evening. J
The butterflies in her belly took flight again. He sure knew how to stir them up. Heck, he stirred more than butterflies. He’d given her his own brand of a scrapbook. She loved knowing he didn’t want to forget that night any more than she did.
She wanted to text him to say thank you, but she didn’t want to bug him when he was in a meeting. She put her fingers in the jar, running them through the sand, remembering that night. She’d been so nervous, and all her worries had tumbled out. He’d been so good to her, not pushing her, leaving their path in her hands.
She put the note back in the jar and carried it into her bedroom as she screwed on the top, putting it on the nightstand. Then she went into the kitchen to gather the pictures she’d left out. She brought them into the guest room for safekeeping so she could get started on Joey’s album, but instead she sat on the bed and looked through the pictures of Justin and Shadow one last time. When he’d texted earlier, he’d mentioned that he wasn’t going to have time to stop by and see Shadow before the meeting. She looked at a picture of Shadow sitting in the grass gazing at the camera, all his pink scars and stitches staring back at her. His stitches weren’t quite as angry looking now. Only one more week until he’d have them removed. She wondered if Shadow missed Justin, too.
Of course you do. You get so excited when you see him.
They had that in common.
She and Justin hadn’t made plans for the next time they’d see each other, which hadn’t struck her as odd until now. Did he miss her, too? Did he need a break from her?
Oh God, I’m becoming one of those girls.
She needed a distraction from her own thoughts, and she’d bet Shadow did, too. A quick visit would probably make Shadow’s day, and it would definitely make hers. She knew Dwayne and Baz would be at church with Justin, but maybe she could catch Sid.