Page 37 of Moonlit Temptation

Nova: They have the best pan-seared scallops on Tuesday nights.

Me: I'm cleaning out my grandma's house tonight.

Me: but I'm free tomorrow

Nova: I'll pick you up at 7

Me: I'll meet you there.

Nova: Don't trust me, sweetheart?

I tamp down the urge to giggle, rolling my lips inward for a moment. My hair falls off of my shoulder, brushing against the screen of my phone. I trap a breath in my lungs as I tap out a reply.

Me: you gotta earn it first

Nova: oh, I'll earn more than that

I exhale, amusement riding my senses. He better live up to the expectation he's creating, or I'm going to be so disappointed.

My fingers flutter across my lips as I remember the way his mouth felt on mine. God, how was that only last night?

Me: promises, promises

Nova: I always keep my word

The record stops, the staticky scratch echoing around the room. I toss my phone to the couch with a grin and cross the room to rifle through the vinyl.

I find the perfect record to play and get back to work, a noticeable spring in my step.

17

BANE

Nothing clearsmy mind quicker than a ride through the backroads of Rosewood. The sun starting its descent into the horizon, bathing everything in that forgiving golden glow.

Out here, I can see for miles on either side of the road. It's mostly residential, the plots of land large enough that you can't just cross your yard and grab a cup of sugar from your neighbor. Not like it is on the compound. If you lived out here and you needed something quick, you'd be fucked. Especially if your neighbor wasn't home. It'd take you ten minutes from your door to theirs—ifyou drove an UTV. Or a golf cart, like the Merriweathers do.

But looking at these properties, I get why people decided to live so far away from each other. Every yard is landscaped by both man and nature. Pines, cypress, and ash trees, some tall enough to dwarf the houses they surround. Flowering bushes and manicured lawns. Vegetable gardens and acreage left to grow wild.

The houses themselves are generally architecturally impressive and run the gamut of style. Traditional and modern takes on the farmhouse, Southern cottages, the occasional colonial.

I can see the appeal. Your own space to shape and mold into your tastes.

Silas gave me the green light to build whatever I want on the compound a couple years ago, but I continue to stay in the house next door instead. It's enough for me.

We've got more land than we know what to do with, and even though it’s considered Reaper property, technically, it's St. James land. Reginald St. James, our great-grandfather, bought the land all those generations ago. And now it's ours—mine, Silas's, and Nova's—as stipulated in our grandfather's will.

Living next door to my cousins isn't so bad though, even if I'm in my parents' old house. We're not far from work or the clubhouse, and Aunt Dixie's a stone's throw away too.

Sometimes I feel like I'm fifteen again, holding up in one of their spare rooms like my own house isn't twenty feet away. Nova always tells me to just move my ass in. Called us three men and a toddler for a few years for how often I spent time over there.

Silas has a two-story farmhouse with white siding and wide pillars supporting the roof. Large windows in almost every room and a wraparound porch.

It's not unlike the style I would choose for myself, honestly. But the truth is, I don't fucking know what I want to do with any plot of land. So, I just keep going back to the beige colonial that reminds me of how shitty life can be, regardless of how many coats of fresh paint I put on.

And no matter how many times Silas tells me the land is just as much mine, it doesn'tfeellike mine. Not when there are so many secrets sucking up all the oxygen at the compound.

So, for now, I'm good in this house.

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