“So are you, Eilish Cassidy.” He didn’t smile this time as his soulful gaze moved over my face. William watched me for a moment longer and gathered a deep breath, releasing my fingers. “I don’t lie. I’m not a liar.”

I nodded, understanding, knowing it was for the best. I didn’t want him to lie. Heck, I was already regretting the lie, mostly.

Bryan’s enchanted body parts. That’s why you lied. When threatened with enchanted orgasms by a cad, the best thing to do is lie.

“So we go out on Friday.”

Laughing lightly, I retrieved the menu and glanced over the sandwiches. “You’re funny, William.”

“I’m not joking.”

This had me lifting my eyes to the man nicknamed the Brickhouse and raising an eyebrow in question. “Don’t you think it would be best for me to be completely honest? Rather than prolonging the charade?”

He shrugged. “I’ll let you decide. But so long as we go out, we’re not lying.”

“William . . .” I didn’t know what to say, so I stalled, searching the tabletop, menu, and restaurant walls for help.

What is wrong with you, E? William Moore is asking you out. You like this guy. A lot. He’s kind and good, not to mention stunningly handsome.

As a matter of fact, his oblique muscles made me want to cry. Yet I felt nothing for William beyond friendship and professional courtesy. No longing. No pull. Agreeing to go out with him felt like lying, and I didn’t want to do that. I hated that I’d lied to Bryan in the first place. I wasn’t going to compound the lie by leading William on.

He must’ve recognized my inability to articulate my thoughts because he said, “Look. I know you’re hung up on Bryan—”

“I’m not hung up on Bryan.”

Am I?

“Let me ask you this, then. When is the last time you went out? Not even on a date. When is the last time you went out with friends—dinner, movie, dancing, a show?”

Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms. “Seven months ago.”

“Go on.”

Not allowing myself to think too much about what I was about to admit, I confessed, “I had a rare night off and my best friend’s mother offered to babysit. A group of us girls went dancing and I indulged in one too many alcoholic beverages.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” He shrugged. “You’re a mother, not a saint.”

Giving him my hard stare, I continued, “I made out with a stranger on the dance floor.”

A faint, approving smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Good. Were you hung over the next morning?”

“No. I didn’t have too much to drink, just enough to lower my inhibitions for a while. I made it home by one and woke up the next morning feeling fantastic.”

“See, you—”

“And promptly came down with pneumonia the next week.”

He winced. Like most of his facial expressions, it was understated. “That sucks.”

“It did. No one else was sick, so I must’ve caught it from the stranger.”

William chuckled softly, like he couldn’t help himself. “Geeze.”

“Yeah. I took it as a sign.”

“What kind of sign?”

“The universe doesn’t want me to have adult fun beyond organizing closets.”

“Maybe it’s time to give the universe another chance.”

I shook my head, glancing over his shoulder. “I like you, William. But I have so much going on right now, so many changes, so much chaos. I don’t think I’m ready to engage in any adult activities beyond organizing closets.”

“Fine. Then let’s do that. You get dressed up, I’ll take you out to dinner, and then you’ll organize my closet. It’ll drive Bryan crazy.” He shrugged again, his face impassive as he reached for and took a sip of water.

“Why do you want to drive Bryan crazy?”

“Because he’s not himself. He’s not happy. He’s not unhappy, but he’s not happy either. He’s my friend, and I want him to be happy.”

“And taking me out to dinner will make him happy?”

“No. It’ll drive him crazy, which should hopefully push him into doing something reckless.”

“You can’t want Bryan to be reckless.” I squinted at him in confusion. Why on earth would William want his friend to be reckless?

“I do,” he said simply.

“But he’s worked so hard to be sober, to be less reckless.”

“But he’s not less reckless. He’s not reckless, period. He’s a boring sonofabitch and needs a wakeup call.”

I huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Everyone thinks you’re a saint.”

“I’m no saint,” he said plainly, his American accent more pronounced.

“Well then, everyone thinks you’re honorable.”

“That’s more accurate.”

I grinned. “You’re an honorable non-saint?”

“More or less.” Though his voice was its usual low, unaffected tenor, I detected just a hint of something new as he said, “Even thieves have honor.”

Chapter Sixteen

ECassChoosesPikachu: Patrick’s new favorite joke: What do you call an alligator in a vest? An “investigator” HA!

JoseyInHeels to ECassChoosesPikachu: The kid needs better jokes

SeanCassinova to ECassChoosesPikachu: MY NEPHEW IS BRILLIANT!