My man has his little “out with the boys” routine. Usually, that means cigars... and that smell follows him straight through the front door. The jacket smell.The car smell.The “please don’t sit on the couch yet” smell. So when he came home one night and didn’t smell like he usually does? Yeah... my mind went somewhere. No heavy smoke. No stale jacket. No “the whole night came home with you” cloud. Just... fresh. Suspiciously fresh. So of course I’m thinking: “Wait.” “You said