Page 57 of Just One More Thing

He glances at me. “That obvious?”

I step closer and reach for the bandana around his neck, twisting the edge lightly between my fingers. Light blue with little blueberries.

The movement feels so natural it startles me. Memory finding its way back into my hands. As if my hands didn’t get the memo that ten years happened.

“Is this one of his?” I ask.

Jake looks down at my hand. Then back at me. “Am I pathetic?”

“No.” My thumb brushes the fabric once before I let go. “I actually think it’s sexy.”

He grins. “Oh yeah?”

“For a man to love his dog as much as you love Hank,” I say, smiling.

His grin spreads and… the dimple! He still has the dimple. “Sexy. You think I’m sexy, huh?”

I turn toward the bay before my face gives away the answer screaming inside me. “Step your sexy back and untie the boat, Wheeler.”

He laughs under his breath, and I can still feel the smile on his face even after I stop looking at him.

He shoves us off from the dock with his foot, hops down onto the boat, and moves to the console with that same confidence that makes everything he does look effortless.

Blue Crab Bay looks different from out here on the water. The historic buildings along The Point lean toward the shoreline from hundreds of years watching boats come and go. On the residential side, docks stretch out from houses, skiffs and center consoles rocking lazily.

Jake hands me a paper bag. “Here.”

I peek inside. “So, what sandwich did you get me?”

“Take a look.”

Wrapped beside some sleeves of Nutter Butters are two sandwiches in Lazy Larry’s paper.

I pull one out and read a joke from the paper it’s wrapped in. “It’s illegal to laugh out loud in Hawaii. You have to keep it to a low ha.” We both laugh.

“How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?”

“How many?”

“Ten tickles.” I laugh again. He groans.

“Both sandwiches are the same,” he says.

I unwrap one.

And stop.

The Toasted Soulmate.Grilled peanut butter and strawberry jam. A core childhood memory sits in my lap in paper wrapper form. I look up at him.

He remembered.

I take a bite, close my eyes, and let out a soft, involuntary moan.

“Is it as good as you remember?”

“Better,” I say around a mouth full of peanut butter and jelly. Before I can say anything else, movement onshore catches my eye. “Jake, look.”

He follows my gaze toward the island. A little cluster of monkeys darts along the beach.