Page 66 of When the Smoke Clears

“Because you’re a sensitive man, William Landry. Maren told me you like chick flicks.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“She said you’ve watched Titanic at least a dozen times.”

“I have not watched any movie a dozen times. And Titanic is not a chick flick. It’s about a ship hitting an iceberg and sinking. It’s . . . historical.”

“Jerry Maguire?”

“Football movie,” I mumble, thumbs tapping the controller’s buttons. “This is ridiculous. If two people fuck in a movie, it’s suddenly a chick flick?”

“I don’t know. I was an infant or a mere twinkle in my mother’s eye when those movies were made.”

“Stop calling me old.”

She chuckles. “I’m not.”

“You’re implying it.”

Everleigh saunters toward the back door. “William, you’re the sexiest old man I’ve ever met.”

Her words make my dick twitch despite the “old man” part, and my avatar dies.

“Fuck.” I fling the controller across the room after the door closes behind her.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Everleigh

“You’re up early,” I say to Will the next morning, surprised to see him in the kitchen at six on his day off.

“I’m heading up to Somers,” he mumbles, pouring coffee into a stainless steel thermos.

I button my white blouse’s cuffs and lean against the counter next to him. He inspects me as if I’m too close, and I am.

“Did something happen to your dad?”

“He was having chest pain and labored breathing. They’re running tests. My mom isn’t handling it well. I’ll be back Thursday evening for my Friday shift.” He tightens the lid and then sticks two pieces of bread into the toaster.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes. You can unplug your curling iron and not burn my house down or destroy it while I’m gone.”

I gnaw on the corner of my lower lip for a few seconds. “Seems like a tall order, but I’ll do my best.”

Will’s eyes narrow, and he purses his lips to hide his grin. “I’ll have Maren and Ozzy check in on you.”

“Fantastic.” I frown when I tip the coffeepot over my mug and find that it’s empty. “What about Jamie and Calvin? Do you not trust them to babysit me?” I return my mug to the cabinet. Looks like I’ll be stopping for coffee on my way to work.

“Calvin’s pretty busy fighting fires. And Jamie is . . . well, I just don’t want her to have to feel responsible for you.”

“Isn’t Maren fighting fires?”

“Yes, but she’s not . . . just don’t worry about it.” He opens a jar of peanut butter and spreads it on his toast.

“She’s not what?” I swipe my finger along the inside of the jar and suck the peanut butter from it. Does he know about the baby? He must because he’s acting weird.

“What the fuck?” He scrunches his nose. “This is my peanut butter. You can’t stick your finger in it.”