Page 67 of When the Smoke Clears

I shrug, sucking the rest of it off my finger. “It’s a condiment. Condiments are shared.”

“Are you out of your mind? Peanut butter is not a condiment.” He inspects the jar as if he can see my germs.

I reach for my phone on the edge of the counter and make a quick search. “Oh, look!” I show him the result on my phone for Is peanut butter a condiment?

“You can’t read,” he grumbles. “It says it ‘can be considered a condiment.’ But I did not purchase it as a condiment, so it is not one in this house.”

“I had a good time last night,” I say because playing with Will is too easy and way too fun. This is probably not the best morning to bait him, but I just want to see his smile. It’s my favorite smile in the world.

“See ya Thursday.” He ignores my comment, wrapping his toast in a paper towel.

“Try not to miss me too much.”

“That won’t be a problem.” He shoves his feet into his black boots and balances the wrapped toast on the lid of his thermos while opening the back door.

“Is this your water bottle?” I hold up the green YETI.

He glances back and sighs. “I’ll come back in for it.”

“I’ll follow you out with it. I have to leave, too, so I have time to stop for coffee since my roomie didn’t leave any for me.” I hike my tote over my shoulder and click my heels to the door.

He stalks toward his Bronco. “There’s more coffee. You just have to make it.”

“I think a latte sounds better.”

He opens his door and sets the thermos and toast inside, and then turns back toward me, taking the water bottle. “Thanks,” he begrudgingly murmurs.

“You’re welcome. For the record, I’ll miss you.”

“Good for you.” He climbs into the seat, but I’m blocking his way to shut the door. “What is it, Everleigh?” He rubs his temples.

“I’m going to make you proud while you’re gone.”

“How so?” he asks with another heavy sigh.

“I’m going to lose my panties for a stranger in the bathroom of a bar, but I’m not going to speed and get a ticket because you ruined that fun for me.”

“Great. Whatever.” He starts his Bronco, and I step backward so he can close his door.

Loving William Landry is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It’s probably the dumbest thing too. As I walk toward my car, his brakes squeak before he gets two houses away. He jumps out and strides back toward the house with purpose.

“Did you forget something el—”

He cuts me off by grabbing my face and kissing me. My heart explodes—eviscerated. His calloused thumbs brush my cheeks, and his fingers tease the nape of my neck. It’s a hard kiss that ever so slowly softens until our lips are barely touching, until his vetiver scent fills my next breath. It takes everything inside me to keep from crying tears of joy. Dr. Reichart has left the building. It’s just young Everleigh, a hopeless romantic standing on shaky legs, sharing breaths with the man of her dreams.

“Keep your panties on until I get back. Okay?” he says with a lopsided grin an inch from my lips.

“I knew you were going to miss me.”

Wiping my lipstick from his mouth with the back of his hand, he turns and struts back to his truck. “That’s not what I said.”

As I fix the hair he loosened from my neatly tied bun, I give his backside the stink eye. As if he knows it, he glances over his shoulder and smirks.

I’m going to miss him exponentially more now.

“She’s a toddler.”

An unfamiliar man’s voice stops me before I open my office door, coffee in hand and Will’s kiss still burning my lips. It’s coming from across the hall. The clinic is expanding, and they’re adding a new psychiatrist—Dr. Swan, an older guy from Boston. Not Will’s age. Even older.