Page 43 of Distant Shores (Stapled Magnolias #2)

IRELAND

A fter Dad’s care-team meeting and a few hours of admin work for Jillie at the Locc, I slipped into the locker room for my board. A sticky note was attached to one of its wheels, and I yanked it off with enough enthusiasm to make the wheel spin as I read.

How had Adair managed to sneak in here without me seeing him?

Old age is like underwear… It creeps up on you!

May I have your number? If yes, kindly text (678) 555-9779. (That’s me)

P.S. Yes, I almost ripped up this note and used the next one after I read the top, but that wouldn’t have been environmentally friendly.

P. P. S. I lied. I just couldn’t work up the nerve to write the question again.

P. P. P. S. Did you see my blue teeth this morning?

:(

There were two boxes underneath his sideways frown face with a “yes” and a “no” written beside them.

I was endlessly, hopelessly charmed by it. The note and his blue teeth I’d thought about since this morning.

I slipped the note into my pocket, and was about halfway back to Camellia Lane on my board when the implication of him leaving me a note at the Locc clicked into place.

He kept a stack of sticky notes with him.

Just for writing me notes? Or did he use them at work too?

After keying my birthday at the front door, I stepped inside and slammed the door shut.

The idea of him giving anyone else one of these made me homicidal even if they weren’t….

Weren’t like mine.

I propped my board in the corner and frowned at myself. I didn’t know what to do with this. With him.

Going straight to my bedroom, I pulled the new note out of my pocket and put Adair’s number in my phone.

But I didn’t text him.

I wasn’t sure why. Because even if we hadn’t.…

Shaking my head, I kicked my bedroom door shut and sat on the edge of my bed, clutching the note in one hand and my phone in the other.

This wasn’t a big deal.

It didn’t need to be a big deal.

Even if we hadn’t kissed, it was smart for us to have each other’s numbers. It was actually dumb that we hadn’t exchanged them yet, given our circumstances.

Kissed .

That word was too small for what’d gone down in the Cadillac .

Falling back onto my bed, I stared at the rotating ceiling fan.

It’d been almost two years since I’d been kissed. Since I’d indulged in anything close to it.

And that fact could not have been more irrelevant in the wake of being kissed by Adair Jacks. Of feeling his body respond to my touch.

Because the way he’d put his mouth on mine? There was nothing to compare it to.

And then there were the sounds he’d made. God , the sounds. Masculine and needy at the same time.

Closing my eyes, I replayed it for the hundredth time in the two days since.

I hadn’t needed to tell him what I wanted, hadn’t needed to find words to express my deep desire to not be in charge all the time. To not have to make every decision.

When I thought about it, which was a fucking lot, it wasn’t a surprise that he’d read me so well. I’d never met a man so attuned to the needs of others around him. When the house got low on something, he got it. Every time Delly almost forgot her ID on the way to work, he grabbed it.

When he saw me working with a notepad and my phone in the evenings, he’d given me his laptop without a word.

The fringe benefit of that particular act of consideration was that it added the element of extra productivity to my two-day-long marathon of worrying while horny.

By this morning, I thought I was maybe on my way to being less haunted by it all.

But then came the elevator. And the suckers. Then the note.

His adorably blue smile that, on anyone else, might’ve been childish. Off-putting. But no . Not on him .

So, yeah. I could give him my number. The least I could do, really.

Turning onto my side, I opened a new text.

This is Ireland.

It couldn’t have even been thirty seconds later that my phone rang. My stomach somersaulted, and I curled into a ball on my side before swiping to answer.

“Hello?”

There was a small noise of… something before he spoke. Surprise, maybe? “Hi, umm…. This is Adair.”

I rolled my lips, holding back a laugh.

“You knew that,” he said, clearing his throat. “I, umm…. Wow , I didn’t really think before I called.”

I grabbed the nearest pillow and hugged it to my chest. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Yeah…. Yeah, you’re right. I just needed to confirm this was you.”

I bit my lip, hugging the pillow tighter. “A text could’ve done the same.”

“I—” he said, drawing out the word, “do not agree. I’m too trusting. Delly says it leaves me vulnerable to catfishers.”

I snorted. “Miss Lenny would totally catfish you.”

“And I’d fall for it,” he said sadly. “And then….” He sighed dramatically, reminding me so much of his sister.

“What?” I pressed my phone hard against my ear, eager for him to keep talking.

“And then I’d spend so long trying to find a way to get out of it I’d probably go along with it and end up moving next door, making me your neighbor instead of roommate. And then Delly might see me doing naked sunrise yoga with Miss Lenny, and I can’t have that on my conscience. I really can’t.”

My cheeks hurt from trying to hold back my grin. “Hence, the phone call.”

“Hence, the phone call,” he repeated, but then there was a beat of silence before he groaned. “I try not to lie. I wanted to hear your voice.”

My body warmed as if I’d stepped into a ray of sunshine on a frigid day, but then my stomach squeezed in a way that almost felt like… dread?

“You went quiet,” Adair whispered. “Was that the wrong thing to say?”

“No,” I said, then took a deep breath to give him my own honesty back. “I’m just a little fucked-up.”

“Hey. Where are you right now?”

“In my room.”

He hummed, but there was a rough edge to it. “Have you had lunch?”

I smoothed my hand over my stomach and held back a disbelieving scoff when I realized that I was hungry.

Of course he’d known.

“No,” I replied.

“Uh-huh. Well, as much as I’d love to talk more, I actually have to get back to work.

But first, I’m gonna take my favorite rolly chair and cruise all the way to Apartment 3A and check on our guys.

And then,” he continued, as if he hadn’t just grabbed my heart with both hands, “why don’t you go heat up the leftovers from last night’s dinner you brought back from the cafeteria?

If that sounds good, I mean. If not, there’s sandwich stuff in the fridge and those All-dressed chips that you and Delly like in the pantry. ”

The unmistakable sound of wheels rolling on tile filled my ear, followed by the faint sound of a door closing .

Had he rolled into a conference room for privacy to talk to me?

My cheeks flushed hot, and I pressed the back of my hand to them in turn, trying to cool them. He was actually rolling down the hallway right now, just as he said.

“Indigo Girl, I’m going to put you on hold with my receptionist. Please, uh…. Please be here when I get back. I actually do have one thing to ask you about while I’ve got you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Five seconds into waiting—I was assuming his receptionist was his breast pocket—I got antsy and jumped out of bed to pace the floor between it and the bathroom door.

There was muffled conversation, then some laughter—Dad’s?—and then more talking.

When it continued, I went to the kitchen and started making a sandwich.

Men.

For how incredibly thoughtful this one was, he still went and basically gave me the “we need to talk” line and then disappeared.

I’d just cut the sandwich diagonally when his voice cut through the line, crystal clear.

“Ireland?”

I took a deep breath, forcing down my nerves. “I’m here.”

“Good. Hang on just a second.”

More rolling, and then a door shutting.

“So, uh…,” he started. “Hi again.”

I could practically see his grin through the phone. That sharp canine. The chin dimple.

“Hi,” I said, my momentary annoyance forgotten.

“Pops and your dad say hello. They were a little overserious for my liking, so I reminded them of their ducks sitting on the windowsill—nice touch leaving them there, by the way—and it was a whole thing.”

My lips twitched. “Yeah, Dad thought his was really great, but I think he may have added his own touches to it.”

“I thought I saw some embellishments. He really is talented. Duck Sewell bears more than a passing resemblance to Beck the man now.”

I laughed, warming from the inside out, but then Adair cleared his throat, and it faded.

“So, listen. My friend is coming into town, and…umm, well….” He trailed off, and I could easily picture his little frown too.

“Adair,” I said flatly. “Just ask.”

Gripping the edge of the counter with my free hand, I cringed at my tone but didn’t even have time to spiral about my attitude before he started laughing.

“Lordy,” he said through a chuckle. “I love how you live. I need more of that.”

There was no reason for me to not believe him. None. But for weeks I might’ve been waiting for him to realize that I wasn’t some secretly bubbly person. That I wasn’t like this just because of circumstances being shit.

And then, being disappointed that this was who I was even on a good day.

Catfished, if you will.

“Do you mean that?” I asked bluntly. “That you—” My question was cut off by sudden commotion followed by voices.

“Ah crap, sorry, Indigo. I guess the Hammonds need the room.” The sound of rolling followed, and something niggled in my brain about that. Was he actually using that chair to get around because he had to? Was his ankle hurting him that badly ?

“Okay, this is taking forever. I’m sorry.

But my best friend Cole is visiting, and I told him he might need to get a hotel or rental nearby, but he is pouting at me really hard, and it’s just…

. Ugh , it’ll make sense when you meet him.

He begged me to ask you if he could stay at our house.

Not in those exact words, mind you, but that’s the gist of the texts he’s been sending me every fifteen minutes.

I’ll vouch for him. He’s ridiculous but nonthreatening, and he would stay on the couch.

Or, knowing him, he’ll probably try to get in bed with me, but that’s just him. ”

“Oh,” I said, surprised. “That’s completely fine with me. And… you know I’ve kind of met him, right?”

There were several beats of silence, then, “Oh?”

“Delly gave me his number. We’ve texted about him possibly playing photographer for that fundraiser with the glamor shots. He didn’t tell you?”

He made a rough sound, so low that my toes inexplicably tingled, scrunching on the kitchen tile.

“I’m going to murder Cole Dubois.”

I laughed. “For texting?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “And for not mentioning it once in the 300 messages he’s sent me this week. Forget I asked about him staying. He’s clearly untrustworthy.”

“How long have you been friends?”

He sighed. “Fifteen years too long.”

“Shame to see it fall apart after so long,” I mused.

“Yeah, but it is what it is. Anyway, I guess I’ll just text him and let him know he can stay with us.”

Was he imagining the sudden, full toothed smile on my face? Because it was there.

“Or I could just text him and let him know,” I said around it.

Adair grunted. “Not funny, Indigo Girl. Not funny at all. ”

He really did have to go then, and after a quick goodbye, I stood in the kitchen and ate my sandwich, grinning like a moron.

When I padded back to my bedroom, the quiet in the house felt almost… eerie. But then I heard the faint yips and barks of some of Miss Lenny’s dogs in the fenced backyard next door, and I relaxed.

I wasn’t alone.

After shucking off my pants and bra, I crawled under the covers, squirming in annoyance at the lack of weight.

I had a small storage unit of Dad’s and my things in our hometown, another financial stressor, and kicked myself every day for not packing my weighted blanket when we moved here.

But now, without a car, going back to get it was little more than a dream.

I bet that mountain quilt on Adair’s bed is just heavy enough.

My phone buzzed on the floor, still in the pocket of my shorts. Leaning over precariously, I grabbed it and opened a text from Adair.

It was a selfie of him, smiling wide, with Dad and Wilbur sitting on the couch in the background.

When I was done looking over every inch of Adair, I looked at Dad. For the first time since his diagnosis became our lives, I felt something more than sadness when I saw him.

Relief.

We weren’t plummeting anymore. I wasn’t sure I could call it thriving, but we were… coasting. Maybe even putting a little pressure on the gas, headed up a small incline.

Maybe.

Adair’s smile was close-lipped in the picture, unfortunately, and I had to wonder if it was because of the question on his latest note.

Did you see my blue teeth this morning?

My gaze moved over to Dad once more, and a slow realization blanketed my being.

He didn’t need me.

Not right now.

I saved the picture to my “happy” album, set it as Adair’s contact ID icon, and then deleted my early-afternoon alarm.

Just for today.

Then I got out Adair’s laptop and set it beside me on the bed.

After a nice, long nap, I would get back to work.

Once I burrowed under the covers, with nowhere to be and no one needing me, I realized “relief” hadn’t been quite right.

Free.

That was the word.