Page 13 of Wicked William

Truth is that I like seeing her in my shirt. Damn it. And I’m in a pretty good mood after watching my brother being so happy with his bride-to-be. Both my brothers are happy. The move back to Tempest was a good one. I liked LA, too, but returning to our roots and making good on our promise to fix the town is satisfying. Watching my brothers fall head over heels in love would have made our mom very happy too.

Maisy puts down her book. “You’re smiling.”

I am. “I am?”

“Yeah. I haven’t seen you smile like that since I came here.”

I feel my cheeks heat up a little, embarrassed that she caught me off guard like this. I clear my throat. “Yeah, well. It’s been a good day.”

“Does Max have any pre-wedding jitters?”

I shake my head and take a seat next to her on the couch. “No. He’s like a kid the night before a trip to Disneyland.”

“You seem a little jittery yourself,” she says.

“Not jittery. I’m excited for Max. I love Cherry like a sister already. And Dillon and Cress are happy too.”

She pulls up her knees and rests her chin on them. “What are you going to do with yourself if you don’t have to worry about your brothers getting into trouble all the time?”

I’m surprised that she’s gleaned so much about our dynamic. I guess I’ve shared some stories about the way we grew up, and she’s figured out from living with me that I’m not the instigator. “I guess I’ll have to find a new hobby. For now, I guess, I’ll try to keep my housekeeper out of trouble.”

She laughs, her eyes twinkling. “Good luck with that.”

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

“I’d like that.”

We scroll through Netflix and pick something neither of us has seen. She spreads a blanket across our laps.

“Where did this blanket come from?” I ask.

“My mom knit it,” she tells me, her voice uncharacteristically soft.

We’ve already discussed both of us losing our moms too young, so I tell her it’s very nice and don’t take it someplace too emotional. Her dad died when she was even younger, leaving her an orphan.

We watch the movie for a few minutes. “Did the rehearsal go well?” she asks.

“Yeah. The ceremony isn’t going to be very complicated. I just have to stand there.”

A few more minutes go by. “Did you have a good night?” I ask her.

“Yeah. I ate one of your frozen pizzas and did a face mask.”

A few more minutes go by. I have no fucking idea what this movie is about. Our hips and legs are touching under the blanket. Our hands are close. All it would take is an inch to close the gap and I could be touching her.

My mind begins listing off the reasons why doing that would be a very bad idea.

“I’m not that young,” she says as if I’d said my thoughts aloud. “Sorry. You’re broadcasting really clearly.”

“You can read minds?”

“No. But I know how you think. If I’m making you uncomfortable, I can go to my room.”

“No. It’s fine. You’re fine.”

She pauses the movie. “Why exactly does everyone in town think you and your brothers are so wild?”

“You had to see us ten years ago to understand. I told you the stories.”

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