Page 71 of The Lost Book of First Loves

“We’re going on one lousy date. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

Another customer came in before Tess could say more but she didn’t really need to. Ali wouldn’t let her heart be in danger.

With everything she had going on right now: studying for the bar, dealing with a sister she hadn’t yet told about their connection and still grieving for her dad, she didn’t have time for a fling with Clint Maclean.

She only wanted an evening of fun, music and dancing with a hot guy.

Who could blame her for that?

Chapter 24

Juniper

Healing was an exhausting business, apparently, and June was more tired than she realized.

After a few hours of working through Carson Wells’s journals, she found herself dozing off and decided to take a nap.

She intended to only rest on the sofa for a half hour then go back to reading. Two hours later, she awoke with a stiff neck, gritty eyes and the realization that Beck would be there to pick her up in only a few hours.

After a few stretches and a large drink of the delicious water that came out of the faucet in the cabin, she made some sandwiches for their hike, as she had promised Beck.

As she still had time before he was coming, she returned to the table and quickly lost herself in the journals again.

Carson seemed to be making more frequent entries. Where the first few had each contained about six months of entries, the past few covered half that time.

She had reached up to a year past the publication of his first book and Carson still seemed to be struggling with his broken heart. He was apparently trying to write through it, finding peace and solace through words.

Winter is settling in and I wonder if she feels it, too. Does she still think of me when the nights grow long or has the memory of us turned cold, like everything else?

The doorbell’s sudden ring made her jump. She glanced at her watch and was stunned to see that while she had planned to read for only an hour, she had become totally absorbed.

She wasn’t at all ready for an evening hike, especially not with Beckett, the man she had dreamed about while she napped.

She marked her place and hurried to the door. “Sorry. I was so busy reading, I lost track of time. I need a few minutes.”

“Take your time,” he said with a smile that left her feeling slightly breathless. “I don’t mind waiting.”

She was tempted to try wiggling out of going with him, but Hank pushed his way past Beckett in the doorway, tail wagging as he pressed his nose into her hand. She sighed. She might be able to resist one of them, but she was helpless against both of them together.

“Come in,” she said. “I only need to put on my shoes and grab some water and our dinner.”

“That’s fine.”

She quickly grabbed a jacket, her water bottle and the wrapped sandwiches and cut vegetables she had prepared for them.

“I’ve got a day pack,” Beck said. “I’m happy to carry whatever you need.”

Since she didn’t have one here, she would take him up on that.

“Sounds good.”

“How are the journals?” he asked.

“Fascinating,” she admitted as she tied the laces of her tennis shoes. “For being a brilliant writer, he’s so full of self-doubt and confused angst. And he is dealing with a broken heart. He calls the woman only E. Very mysterious. He makes it clear their love can never be, but he doesn’t really explain why. I get the impression she might have been married or something.”

“That doesn’t sound like Carson at all.”

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