Page 14 of Another Man’s Treasure

Wilder returns and stops in front of the stove, swirling something that smells dangerously like booze, cloves, and cinnamon. Neither of us address her comment about us having privacy.

Willa slips into the nearest chair with a happy clap. “Wild, is that your spiked cider? I’m dying for some, and nobody does it like you.”

“Mhm.” That’s all he says, doesn’t turn around or anything.

I slide into the chair next to Willa and lean over, although I don’t bother to whisper. “Does he speak in anything other than grunts?”

“Only to me,” she says with a playful wink.

We stare at him, and then she explains, “He was a quiet kid. I did the talking for the both of us, although actually, our mama gets a few more words outta him.”

I waggle my brows. “Okay, a mama’s boy…I like that.”

She chuckles. “Well, we can’t be daddy’s anythings since our asshole sperm donor left us when I was, like, two.”

I fall silent, because I’m not sure how to respond to that. She says it so offhandedly, and Wilder still hasn’t acknowledged any of her commentary.

“You’re gonna like my besties.” I lean back, changing the subject. “Bluebell grew up here, but Lemon just moved from Rainbow. She’s a city girl—very bright, very vivacious.”

“I like bright and vivacious. Kinda goes with the territory, being from Laporte. New Orleans is its own thing entirely,” Willa says. “The sheer history alone is so beautiful. Light and dark and steeped in so many fabulous cultures.” She smiles up at Wilder as he joins us, setting three cups of cider on the tabletop. He pushes one over to me, and she grabs a second one. He takes a seat and brings the third to his dark green lips, sipping as he looks intently at his sister.

Willa looks between us, brows lifting high. “Okay, so you two don’t talk much, I gather. Fine, I’ll do the talking then. I came into town to help sell the fake relationship between you two. It’ll look better if I know all about your partnership and I’m here visiting you. That being said, we need to get on the same page.”

I nod sagely. “Ground rules, sure. I just learned Wilder’s name, like, three minutes ago.”

“That’s what I mean,” Willa says, pointing to me. “We’ve gotta fix that.” She reaches into a bag over her chest and withdraws a single sheet of paper, then slaps it on the table between the three of us. “This is a list of everything we should go over and know. That way we don’t get caught in a lie. Deal?”

She looks from me to Wilder and back again.

“Deal me in, sweetie,” I say dramatically, grabbing the list so I can look through it.

But inside, I’m second-guessing this whole thing. Nobody mentioned studying. I don’t do studying.

Except…maybe I will for twenty thousand dollars.

Wilder

Willa drags us through two literal hours of questions until my brain is sore from trying to remember all the details about my new “boyfriend.”

Full name: Ozifer Rayvander Luzzi of House Luzzi.

Only son of Judet and Zavier Luzzi of Hearth Headquarters haven, who died when he was young, so he primarily grew up with his grandparents, Ichabod and Myanna.

Moved to Pine Gulch from Rainbow after a disastrous breakup with none other than Saint Ashbourne of House Ashbourne, a super old and renowned vampiric line.

Oz is currently a bartender working at almost every bar in town, depending on who needs him, and that’s how he met his pit hell Ginger, who hasn’t shown up yet tonight, although he doesn’t seem worried about it.

On and on it goes until my brain literally hurts, and a headache forms behind my eyes. I was never scholarly, and I always wanted to be in the ring with the bulls or out on the range on horseback. I’m more comfortable around a small group of tight-knit friends, although I left a lotta that behind when I quit ridin’ bulls. Some of my friends stuck around. Most didn’t.

Willa finally releases us from academic duty around ten p.m., and I hit the bathroom for a shower. She’s gonna take over soon and put bottles of product everywhere, so this is the last time I’ll get to enjoy my quiet, clean little spot.

I’d tell her to go hit up a place in town, but realistically, she never likes to stay far from me. We were inseparable as kids, and even now, it’s hard to fathom living away from her. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if she joins me in Pine Gulch pretty fast, even though she loves Laporte, where we grew up.

Oz’s voice drifts through the wood door as I cut the shower water on. “Wilder Orpheus Lane, age sixty-two. Just retired from bull riding due to a shoulder injury. What’s up with that middle name, by the way? Orpheus? There’s a story. Dish, sister.”

Willa laughs and launches into the long tale of my ridiculous middle name. Grimacing, I step into the cold shower and close the curtain, focusing on the running water instead of the voices outside the door. It’s hard, because Oz’s voice carries as he repeats facts about me like he’s struggling to remember them.

When I’m done in the shower, I dress in the bathroom before going out. When I do, Oz and Willa are lying together in my bed. She’s got a photo album from home and she’s going through it, laughing hysterically.