Page 27 of Sweet

Orchid Mantis:Out.

Purple Puppy:Talk tonight?

Orchid Mantis:Probably.

Purple Puppy:Tease.

And a wink.

That makes my heart pick up in pace. I can’t promise him I won’t be busy tonight, but really and truly, I don’t see this taking up my entire evening.

I’m right about my night being free. By the time I get home, the sky’s dark and the air has begun to chill again. We’re in the time of year where the days are on their way to getting shorter and the temperatures drop with the sun. Autumn is right around thecorner on the calendar, but it always arrives sooner the farther north you are.

Instead of going straight inside to escape the brisk air, I take a midnight stroll on my property for no particular reason.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I have a reason, but I don’t want to admit it to myself. I don’t change my mind often. Once I’m set on something, I won’t let it go—be it an object, idea, or person. Right now, I’m set on Will. Any thoughts concerning himshouldbe about how I’m going to kill him.

Normally, at this stage, I’m more focused on the idea than the person. I’m planning every step, factoring every detail, and even going so far as to walk my property while imaging every step—one part daydream and one part dress rehearsal. And I’m having a hard time focusing when Will’s starring in my fantasy. My mind goes… elsewhere.

A lot of the area around my house is wooded, giving the illusion of privacy as well as isolation. Amid the darkness, I don’t rely on my eyes so much as the crunching of leaves and small twigs that have blown their way over to my destination. Henri still hasn’t been moved to his final location. That’s another thing I have to do sooner rather than later. Can’t be leaving him in the greenhouse all winter. Time to get to work. The insects have about picked him clean, but the meat grinder in the basement can take care of the rest. After that, well, calcium is very good for lawns and I have a lot of property out here.

The wind blows right through me upon passing the greenhouse and I sink further into my jacket, taking a breath while I stand in the dark. I haven’t devoted too much time to Will, but I spent a lot on Henri. Maybe longer than on any guyever. Still don’t miss him, the person. The attention, the dance of growing obsession, and even how the planning stage took over most of my mind and my time. When I try to insert Will into that equation, it doesn’t feel as satisfying as it should.

Maybe I won’t kill Will.

No, that feels too resolute. Maybe I won’t kill himyet. A much more realistic compromise with myself. One that says I’m allowed to change my mind, regardless of what happens next.

Chapter twelve

Will

Needless to say, I’m not very happy with Jess. In hindsight, every time Bailey has approached us at the farmer’s market, either he addresses Jess first or Jess talks to him—never me. I suppose them getting together shouldn’t be as big a surprise as it was. Fairly certain that this violates some kind of bro code, but as they say, all’s fair in love and war. And fucking guys, we’re the worst. That being said, as much as I want to confront Jess about this… I’m not sure I can without losing my cool. Which is exactly why I can’t do that. If it were me, I’d want to see him flipping a lid over this. Remaining nonchalant will be the only way to hit him where it hurts.

We always have Monday off, and with Lucy still out on leave, he’s been mostly closing while I’ve been opening. I don’t really get a chance to speak to him until Friday. Someone needed to switch shifts and the boss’s daughter always comes and opens on Friday, anyway. I’m more than happy to help, like the nice guy I am. Not only do I prefer closing, but Jess and I will be working together. We really do make a good team.

After the small dinner rush, the store always winds down and we can chat while working. Most of what we do doesn’t require so much thought we can’t multitask. Jess fights the sticker gun once again, since he remains the only one who can make it cooperate, and I’m dealing with the basket of returns. We’ve maybe thirty minutes to close.

“So, how did Sunday go?”

“What?” Jess laughs as if I’m telling a joke instead of asking a question.

“Sunday. You. Bailey. How’d that go?”

And he looks so pleased with himself when he shrugs. “It… went.”

I hum at such an excellent lack of an answer.

“Why do you ask?”

“Seemed like the polite thing to do.”

“I probably should have said something to you.” Jesse pauses and focuses more on the sticker gun than me for a moment. “Do you mind?”

“Not particularly.” When Cas gave me that answer, it drove me up a wall. I can already see it’s having the desired effect on Jess.

“Because you don’t give a damn about me,” Jess says, his voice slightly rising.

“That’s not what I said.”