Page 169 of Return To You

I blush, thinking at the little notes in colorful envelopes he hides in my handbag for me to find when I’m at work. They’re way more explicit than the ones he first made for me. They’re actually so explicit that I’ve started putting those new ones back in the jar, and I have him take one randomly every night and demonstrate exactly what he meant.

Most times, it ends in real hot sex. Sometimes, in a fit of laughter.

Of the two outcomes, I can’t tell which I prefer.

“How is the high school project coming along?” Randy asks.

“I think they’re about to wrap up,” I answer. I heard more than I should have, that night on the deck, when Ethan was summarizing the situation to his C.O. I know not to share anything. No one suspects it was ever anything more than a real bad virus, and we should keep it this way. “He’s about to move his operation into the Mill, actually.” Ethan snatched the space as soon as he was approved by the higher-ups to become a private consultant.

“I’m so happy for you,” Randy says, clutching his hands. Turning to our display of mugs, he adds, “I’m getting one too. Still thinking on what it should say.”

Alex comes in for her massage with Shanice, who I’ve finally convinced to expand beyond facials. Alex was the first person I practiced massages with, back when she had just moved into Emerald Creek, and she’s volunteered to be Shanice’s test client now. “Happy to brainstorm with you, Randy. We should make it catchy for socials.”

At lunch, sitting out on the deck for a quick break, I open the note Ethan slipped into my handbag. It reads, Is It Friday Yet?

I smile. Not a kinky note today, but certainly a promise. Fridays are for just the two of us now, to unwind at home. Saturdays are for our friends, and Sundays our families—although there’s a lot of overlap between the two.

“Are you coming to Game Nights tonight?” Kiara asks after her pedicure. She never gets fancy manicures, because of her being a pastry chef, but she goes all out on her feet.

Tonight is Thursday. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

That evening, in the back of Cassandra’s lingerie, Ms. Angela is all wound up. She wants to create a new Mystery Board Game. She calls it mystery, but it’s really gossip. “We have a lot of new material,” she explains.

“Such as?” her friend Cheryl asks.

“Don’t you wonder why Georgie is selling property? It doesn’t fit his profile.”

“I wanna know why the bookshop is called Shy Rabit,” Chloe interjects.

Ms. Angela takes out a notebook and writes in it. “That’s another one.”

Cassandra sips from Haley’s latest concoction—something deep blue. “What I’d like to know, is why we have so many beautiful young women who are still single. Emma, Autumn, Kiara…”

“You need to work your magic!” Ms. Angela says. “That’s not a mystery.”

“Hmm.” Cassandra looks around the room, eyes narrowed on my single friends, but tonight, she doesn’t call anyone into her boutique.

When I get home that night, my heartbeat picks up as it always does when I come home now. Ethan installed twinkling lights around the frame of the house, that turn on as soon as it’s dusk, making the house super welcoming. Lucas and Thalia just finished our three-car garage, and we decided to have an upper level framed in above it. When we can afford it, we’ll easily be able to add two bedrooms or an office and a bedroom. Ample space to grow our family.

Right now, I’m content pressing on my garage door opener and sliding into my parking spot between the chick magnet (that nickname stuck) and Ethan’s new SUV, and going home to my man and my cat.

“What was that note about Friday?” I ask Ethan as he greets me with a kiss.

“Officially done with the high school project tomorrow, and starting on Monday, I’ll be at the Mill.”

“That’s awesome.” I knew this was the timeline he had in mind, but there was always the possibility of last-minute delays. “Do you want to go celebrate? Lazy’s? Growler?”

“Not tomorrow. Tomorrow is for us. We can go celebrate Saturday.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats, booping me and smiling adorably at me.

The next day, I make sure to get home early. The deck is all sparkling with twinkly lights, the table adorned with candles. It’s a little cool out but there are blankets on the couch.

Ethan pulls me to him and lays a big kiss on my mouth. “Take a shower, get comfy, and join me outside.”

After a quick shower (why didn’t Ethan join me? I need to set that straight), I grab one of the hoodies Ethan got me “for the cold weather” with his name on it. The walk-in closet is filling with his clothes now, thick sweaters and thermals and jeans and snowboarding gear. His smell is everywhere and ohmygod… it’s the best. Winter with Ethan is going to be so cozy.

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