Page 95 of Crushing Clover

“Good, good.” His mother grinned, making the resemblance between them even more apparent. “We don’t have bail money for you right now.”

“Still saving up from the last time?”

“That’s not even funny, Lucky Hale Graves.”

“Whoa, the dreaded middle name. You’re introoouble,” I couldn’t help but say. It was fascinating watching a regular family interact in a regular family way. I’d only seen shit like this on TV.

Lucky’s mom turned to me and chuckled. “So, you’re the new girlfriend?” She looped her arm through mine, and we followed after Lucky. “I’m Willa, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m a burden, not a girlfriend.”

“I’m sure you’re not a burden or they would have thrown you out by now. It’s good you’re staying with them. That house needs a woman.”

We caught up to Lucky in a bedroom that had been painted a dark purple. It was a beautiful color, but not one I would have guessed someone would choose for their teenage son’s room.

Lucky was rummaging in the closet, so I took the opportunity to check out the posters that still adorned the wall—differentmusic groups I was unfamiliar with, and a poster fromPenny Dreadful.

“What are you looking for?” Willa asked him.

Soccer trophies were lined up on his bookcase, along with a shit ton of books shoved in every which way.

“Do we still have my clothes from middle school?”

“Considering my organizational skills, they’re probably still at the back of your closet.” She squeezed in beside him and started digging through the opposite end of the closet. “What do you need clothing that small for?”

“For Clover. One of the servers quit on us last minute and she’s going to fill in.”

Willa arched a brow. “She looks too mainstream to work at Cygnet.”

“She’ll look very different in black.” He sorted through more shirts. “Dad still at work?”

“Nah, I’ve got him gagged and tied to our bed. We weren’t expecting company.” She winked at him, but he missed it.

“Mom, no sex jokes in front of new people, please.”

“Fine.” She sighed theatrically. “I’ll behave.”

“Thank god we’re safe until the next time you come over,” Lucky grumbled over his shoulder at me.

“It’s good for children to see that their parents still love each other,” Willa pointed out.

“Love is one thing. Grabbing each other’s asses is something else entirely.”

“I see enough of that between you and Rushton. I’m not going to pretend I’m a nun when I don’t expect you to pretend you’re a monk.” She fished out a garment bag from the back of the closet.

“It’s going to need ironing at the very least.” She unzipped the bag and pulled out a very nice black suit. “Oh. It’s not too bad.”

“Wow, that’s beautiful.”

“Lucky’s grandmother made his suit by hand. She was a seamstress.” She crossed herself. “God rest her soul.”

“Quit doing that. We’re not Catholic, and Grandma’s not dead.”

“Shh. I’m trying to manifest.” She laughed, and he punched her arm, but gently.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working right now?”

“I just got out of a meeting, and I was going to get a coffee. Do you guys want coffee?” She sauntered out of his room and headed back down the hall.

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