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“Look at those sand dunes,” I said. “You know, if my ribs weren’t still tender, I’d be out in a dune buggy in a hot minute.”
She snorted. “Yeah, I bet you would. Are you healing up okay? Been back to the doctor?”
I waved a hand around in the air. “One ear still troubles me a little. I’m fine. Let’s go walk next to the water. Do you think Charley will be afraid?”
“Yeah, might be his first time.”
Charley was a brave explorer, barking at the waves to show them who’s boss, pouncing on crabs, and chasing seagulls as much as his retractable leash would allow. Wind whipped our hair in every direction but down until we headed back to the car with red noses and sand in our shoes.
We found a dog-friendly restaurant and ordered bowls of clam chowder. “The Gulf Coast of Texas this isn’t,” said Amber.
“I’m gonna have to buy a sweater.” I cupped my hands around the bowl.
Amber glanced at her phone. “Mario texted me. What are you doing, he wants to know.” She took a picture of our view. “Should I send it?”
“That would be the first time you’ve knowingly texted him back since Vegas, right?”
“Yes.” She took a mouthful of soup. “It’s crossing a line. He’s a, like, intimate communicator. That sounds odd. But it almost seems like a trick, another kind of love bomb. Makes me think we’re getting really close and big things are happening. Except it’s just him being him.”
“What did he say last night?”
“That he’s sorry. Wants to give us a try. He needed a littletime to process. I was like, give us a try? I’m not a car you’re taking out for a test drive.”
“Yeah. Good point.”
She tore open a packet of crackers. “Then he got these big sad puppy dog eyes and was all, you’re still mad aren’t you?”
“Did you leave after that?”
“No. I stayed and had two more drinks with him.”
I grinned. “Send the picture.”
She frowned. “Fine.”
“At least he doesn’t have a thing about toes.”
“There is that.”
We shopped, competing to find the tackiest gift to send to our brothers and then ended up buying saltwater taffy and fridge magnets to take home.
On the drive back, Amber turned down the music and looked at me. “What’s going on with your men?”
I made a face at her. “My bed has been empty for a long time. There isn’t even a hint of Axe underarm deodorant on my sheets.”
She wrinkled up her nose. “That stuff smells so much better after I’ve had a few beers.”
“Clint messaged me last night.”
“What did he say?”
I tried to smile as my chest constricted a little. “Not much. He saw the news and wanted me to go for a visit.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him I wouldn’t be visiting. Then I cried and hugged the pillow he used.”
“Ah, girl, I’m sorry.”
