Page 21 of Another Man’s Treasure

“I don’t have to come,” I offer. “But I’m happy to attend if it’s helpful. You’re paying me, after all.”

“Good,” Willa chirps, standing and grabbing a bag by her feet. “Because I got you matching sweaters.” She yanks the sweaters out of the bag and lifts one high.

It’s black, but up close, there are tiny pink hearts in the pattern.

“Oh my gods, that’s perfect!” I all but shout, until I look at Wilder.

He’s staring at the sweaters in apparent horror. Any moment, he’s going to refuse to⁠—

Reaching down, he grabs the hem of his long-sleeved tee and pulls it over his head. Willa smirks at me as I stare at her brother’s stacked core, noting the faint near-white hair coating his chest. Waggling both dark brows, she tosses the second sweater to me.

“Thank fuck you remembered I have wings,” I muse as I stare at the line of buttons down both shoulders all the way to the sleeve.

Willa claps her brother on the arm. “Meeting’s at three at some restaurant out at the wraith property.”

Wilder nods. “He insisted I meet him there the first time too. Seems he can’t be bothered to eat downtown for some reason.”

“He’ll only do highbrow dining,” I offer with a frown. “Hates a dive bar. Wouldn’t be caught dead in a place with a mechanical bull.” I wave around at Whiskey Business, who groans unhappily. “Love you, sweetie,” I croon, rubbing the bar top with my fingertips. “What’s the meeting today about, ostensibly?”

“Finalizing contract details.” Willa waggles her brows. “But I’m gonna blow that right up because a ton of the details aren’t right. And I don’t want Wilder to get fucked.”

He lightly slaps the bar between us, grabbing my attention. “We’ll get outta your hair so you can finish opening, but I’ll pick you up at two thirty?”

“Sounds good.” I point at our matching sweaters. “This is cute as hells, by the way. Saint’s gonna shit a brick.”

“We don’t want to piss him off, though, right?” Wilder looks at his sister.

She shrugs, twirling auburn hair around her finger. “I mean…we’re not pushovers though. And as your lawyer, I’m just doing my job. I don’t see how he can have an issue with that.”

I snort. She doesn’t know Saint Ashbourne the way I do. “Well, he revels in getting one over on the other party in deals. It’s how he makes his best money, by getting his clients the very best price. Maybe it’ll be good for me to be there. That way I can warn Wilder if I think Saint is up to any tricks.”

Willa smirks and waggles her brows at me. “Most excellent, I love that idea.”

We high-five, and Wild just rolls his eyes.

Hours later, Whiskey Business is slammed as my replacement rushes in, snowflakes fluttering in behind her. The pretty pixie is wrapped to the nines in a ton of layers, stomping snow off her boots as she joins me behind the bar.

“Absolute madhouse outside, Oz,” she barks as she tosses her coat underneath the bar next to Ginger. “Betty’s Burger Bar is doing another burger challenge, and the street’s full. How did I forget that was going on today?”

I shrug. Betty’s on a tear lately with her events. Of course, Pine Gulch is famous for its parties anyhow.

Fall Ball. Mead Cute Festival. Yule Love It. New Year Bash. Sweetheart Ball. And that’s just half the year!

Grabbing my coat, I toss it over my matching sweater and kiss at Ginger, who slinks out from under the counter to follow me. At the door, I pull her jammies back on and button them over her shoulder. She licks my face with a soft little whine when I open the door and snow blows in. It’s gorgeous outside, but fuck me, it’s cold. I’m pretty sure Ginger and I are both lizards at heart. Throw us on a hot beach, and we’d be happy clams.

Outside, Wilder and Willa sit in a big pickup truck, talking. When I knock on the window, Willa hops out and gets in the back, giving up her spot.

I round the truck and slide in, smiling at them as I note Wilder’s still wearing the heart sweater. Ginger hops in and over the console, taking a seat next to Willa who eyes her jammies with a huge smile.

“Saint’s gonna lose his mind,” I mutter to nobody in particular.

“I’d love to see that,” Willa chirps from the back seat. “I already don’t like him just based on what I read from Wilder.”

Wilder gruffs and puts the truck in gear, pulling into the snowy street. The fairy lights that crisscross the street shine down on us in the fading afternoon light.

Turning in my seat, I look at her. “What do you mean about reading Wilder?”

He laughs. “Don’t get her started.”