Page 64 of 6 Clues Your Nemesis Loves You

A tamp down the rebuttal that wants to rise. Cool, calm, and collected. That’s what Maggie needs, no matter how badly I want to crow that she’s mine. “So you’re saying I shouldn’t have our names skywritten over Windfall, letting everyone know we’re together?”

She gives my shin a light kick. “You’re a pest.”

“What about my planned public service announcement on the radio?”

She snorts and doesn’t bother answering.

“Fine.” I sigh dramatically. “We’ll take this slow. How do you feel about having our first official date tomorrow night?”

“That would be nice,” she says softly.

“And just so we’re on the same page, I’ll allow second base, but not a step further.”

She presses her fingers into my beard, getting all up in my business. “I mean slow emotionally, not physically. When we do get naked together, Lennon Bower, I want this beard of yours all over me, and I plan to suck your cock so hard you see stars.”

Jesus Christ.

I suddenly realize Maggie’s fears are the least of our problems. I’m not sure I’ll survive her wicked mouth. Except I feel lighter than I have in weeks. Sad after learning what she went through with her mother and with me, but also clearer. Nothing’s worse than dealing with the unknown and building worst-case scenarios in your head.

I’ll work to make Maggie feel safe with me. Together, we’ll conquer our irrational tendencies and eventually take the town of Windfall by storm.

“Anything else I can do to make you feel comfortable with me?” I ask.

She cuddles her head into my neck. “I need more of your notes. All the redacted parts.”

A happy hum moves through my chest. “That can be arranged, as long as I get the hot-dog picture of you. That beauty’s going on my phone.”

She laughs and tries to tickle me, but I’m wearing too many layers. I roll her fully on top of me and hold her close, thinking of all the ways I’ll prove we’re meant to be.

chapter twenty-two

I wake up before the sun, eager to face the day. I can’t wait to take Maggie out tonight, and I love my new morning routine—tackling an item on my house to-do list, then strolling through the property as the sun brightens.

I grab my tools and head to the front porch, pausing to let the tranquility of this land settle on me. I can hardly believe I lived in the rush of Houston as long as I did. I nearly didn’t return to Windfall, worrying over facing my past. Living here has righted a part of me that’s been off-kilter too long.

Eventually, I get to work replacing a portion of the rotting wood on my front deck. I enjoy every thwack of my hammer, every jolt of my body. Hard work that feels purposeful and good. I brew my tea afterward and walk across the property as the morning sun paints the wild grasses gold. Contentment fills me, along with a yearning. The wish to call this place mine, even though I rent it. Own the land that’s finally given me a real sense of home. Maybe Littlewing will be successful enough that I can buy the place from Mrs. Jackson one day.

I stop at the large maple by the tree line. It’s imposing and beautiful, and an idea hits me. A surprise for Maggie I bet she’ll love. I mentally add it to my to-do list and smile at the sprawling property as I head back.

My good mood continues with my day. I tackle my bills, feeling less annoyed about using my WITSEC principal. Maggie’s advice to grow something good out of my father’s deception is starting to hit home. The afternoon’s mountain biking program is a blast. I even convince a participant’s brother to join next week.

Now I’m hurrying toward the flower shop, hopped up on adrenaline and anticipation. My first date with Maggie needs to be flawless. Flowers to liven up her home. A special gift and note to add a personal touch. Attentiveness and quiet romance for my favorite nemesis.

A few steps from the flower shop, I see Sandra.

She stops directly in front of me, invading my space. Sandra is a bit of a close talker. “When you take Maggie to Carlino’s Trattoria tonight,” she says, practically breathing on me, “do not order the calamari.”

Without waiting for me to reply, she pushes past me, disappearing down the street.

I stand there blinking, downright impressed by Sandra’s ability know things I don’t even know. I mean, yes, I’m taking Maggie to Carlino’s Trattoria. The restaurant is romantic and charming, and the food is supposed to be great. Sandra must have learned this intel because this town loves gossip as much as it loves beets, but how she knew I’d read the menu and was intrigued by the calamari is anyone’s guess.

A shower and change later, I show up at Maggie’s front door with a bouquet in shades of red and what looks like a box of chocolates, but it’s actually a pretty box holding a copy of the B-horror movie The Blob. The perfect gifts to woo my nemesis, including the letter in my hand.

I crouch and shove the envelope under her door, then stand and knock.

The clack of high heels indicates she’s on her way. The clacking stops, but she doesn’t open the door. Hopefully she’s picking up and reading the letter I wrote. It’s similar to my first note to her, but all the “redacted” parts are filled in and some lines are changed.

You’re strong. You’re smart. You’re incredibly creative. From the first day I met you at [the pond], I was amazed by you. You still amaze me, even if you haven’t handed over the hot-dog picture yet.