25. Wildflower

25

Wildflower

All Three Of Us

"He loves her, you know," my sister says, leaning over the porch rail as we look out into the backyard.

Despite it being late January, the sky is bright blue, broken up by only the occasional floating cloud. It's not warm, per se, but holding the party outside was doable. The view from my sister's backyard is stunning. The property backs up to a cliff's edge, lined with lavender bushes that are already beginning to bloom. The deep blue horizon line stretches out far beyond us, clashing with the sky.

It's normally a peaceful place. Darby and I will sit out on my grandmother's old porch swing on Sunday mornings, drinking coffee and listening to the crashing of the waves.

Today, however, the view is obstructed by two massive bounce houses, hollering children, the smell of carne asada—from the tortas Everett's friend Emilio cooked for the party—and the pounding of music. Mostly Taylor Swift, per my daughter's request.

My conversation with Jason had me shaking, on the verge of tears. I don't know if what he said was a threat or a warning. I don't know if he has something to do with my father. I don't know anything at all. My life is utter chaos, and I feel like nobody sees that but me.

I'm out here in the middle of the ocean, drowning, flailing my arms and screaming for help, but no one can hear me, and my haunted past is pulling me under.

Registering my sister's words, I drag my eyes to the bounce-house shaped like a castle, following her gaze where it rests upon the two people inside it. Lou sits cross-legged in the middle of the space while Everett jumps around her on all sides, attempting to lift her as high as possible.

He's the one person who seems to be holding onto my life vest—who seems to breathe oxygen back into my water-filled lungs.

The sound of Lou's laughter filters above all else, floating through the air and bringing a smile to my cheeks.

"She's hard not to love," I respond.

"So are you." I glance at Darby, her hazel eyes fixed on my face. "I think he might love you too."

I scoff. "You're insane.".

"Look at all he does for you. For her. You can't convince me there isn't something there."

There is definitely something here. A mutual attraction, absolutely. But love? Ridiculous.

"It's an arrangement, Darby. He does these things—dates me—for appearances. He's getting something out of it too. It's an agreement, that's all."

My sister lets out an unconvinced hum. "You really believe that?"

"He said his reputation was beginning to negatively affect his business." I turn to face her, crossing my arms. "Are you saying he's lying?"

"No." She shakes her head. "He does have a reputation, just like I do. Like Leo does. But after six months here, I've found that people stare at me a whole hell of a lot less than they used to. They've moved onto whatever other small-town gossip caught their attention." The breeze kicks up, blowing her long blonde hair into her face before she tucks it behind her ear. "I think the average resident cares a lot less about their local mechanic's sex life than he lets on. I think he was smitten with you from the moment he met you, and you gave him the perfect scenario to court you without scaring you away."

I give her an incredulous look. "Court me? It's not Bridgerton, Darby."

"Is that not what he's doing? I know you're not too stupid to see it, Dal." Her eyes filter across the lawn. "He's infatuated with you. I mean, is he not flirting with you constantly? He's practically begging to fuck you."

A small laugh escapes me at that. "He is. I've never had trouble with men wanting me that way. The trouble lies with them accepting all the baggage that comes with it."

Sorrow flashes across my sister's eyes. "Well, the way it looks to me right now, he's handling all your baggage and none of your…delicates." Her lips twitch up in the corners. "And he's still here. That tells me all he really wants is…you."

"I'm a packaged deal."

"Look at him right now." I pull my gaze back to Everett, watching him laugh with my daughter. "If anything," my sister continues, "he's more smitten with her than he is with you. I think he knows exactly what comes from being with you, and he wants all of it."

I don't often allow myself to dream up scenarios I long ago deemed impossible, but something deep inside me pulls at my chest as I watch the man I've become so allured by, the man who makes me feel so safe, laughing with my daughter. I think that tug might be hope.

My heart feels like frozen soil, like flowers gone dead in winter's frost.

A lifetime of being iced out by those who are supposed to love you tends to do that to a person, I think. A lifetime of poison leaves little space for one to bloom.

Meeting Everett feels like planting seeds, like the hope of spring.

But there are some places so cold, seeds are useless, places so dark that the sun never shines. I think I may be one of them.

"I'm not sure I'm capable of giving anyone all of me, Darby."

My sister looks at me like she wants to understand, and while she faced her own kind of demons in the haunted house of our childhood, mine are just…different.

She was saved by the love of her life.

I had to be saved by her.

So, my sister doesn't argue. She only grabs my forearm where it's crossed at my chest and squeezes lightly. "I think if there is anyone out there worth trying for, it's him."

I nod but don't respond. We watch the party unfold for a moment longer before Leo comes jogging up to us, dimples gleaming with the grin on his face. "Okay, I finished setting up everything in the garage. Are you guys ready?"

I smile at him. "Yep. Let's do it."

I call out to Lou. Everett knows the plan, helping her out of the bounce house as Leo, Darby, and myself walk around the far side of the yard. Monica and Carlos are already in the detached garage, smiling as we enter. August is here too, to my surprise. I had invited him to the party but hadn't expected him to come.

I assume it was my sister's doing.

He's spent most of the day with her, and I noticed him speaking with Monica after Darby joined me on the porch. He's been quiet, reserved, though he smiles at Lou as she walks through the door.

"You ready, Luz?" Everett asks, standing behind her with his hands over her eyes.

"I thought we were opening presents outside?"

"This one is too big to bring into the backyard, so we thought we'd give it to you here first." Leo beams as he stands next to the table in the center of the garage with the bright pink, sparkly surfboard laid across it.

There are boards hung against the walls and across the roof, dozens of them. Most of them seem to be custom-made, and I wonder if they're something Leo won during his competitions throughout the years. I can't think of any other reason why one person would need so many. There are all different sizes, colors, and even shapes.

Another table is shoved against the corner beneath a rack of boards with rags, wax, and resin? I think. Leo talks about fixing up his boards a lot, but I only half pay attention.

Lou's been begging me to get back in the water for the last few months since we halted her lessons with Everett back in October. The weather is too unpredictable right now for surfing, according to Everett and Leo. Lou doesn't seem to understand this, though, since Leo is still in the water almost every day. Even though he technically retired last summer, he had pre-scheduled competitions through this spring, so he's still training. Plus, he's spent almost every day on the water since he was younger than Lou, and I'm sure he can handle the waves and the weather.

My anxiety, however, cannot.

I told Lou she had to wait until May before she could take any more lessons, and I'm hoping her birthday present from Leo will help her get excited for it.

Everett removes his hands from Lou's eyes, and I watch as they go comically wide, her mouth dropping open in astonishment. "Is this for me?" she all but squeals.

"All yours, Bug," I reply. "From Leo."

She runs full force into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and screaming, "Thank you! Thank you!" into his stomach.

Everyone is laughing, and I feel tears stinging in the corners of my eyes as Leo pats her back and steers her toward the table. Lou slowly runs her hand over the board, taking in the way her name is sprawled along the side, multi-colored flowers dotted across it.

"So here's the deal, kid," he says as he steps up next to her. "You'll get to break in the brand-new board later this spring with Everett, but only if you help me out in the meantime."

"Help you out?" she asks him.

"Yep." He smiles. "Every day after school, you're going to meet me here in the garage, and I'm going to show you how to properly take care of a surfboard. I'll teach you how to wax, check for damage, and fix your dings."

"Dings?" she snorts.

"Dings," Leo confirms. "Does that sound like a deal?"

She nods enthusiastically. "This is the best present ever."

"Rude," Everett says, though there's a smile on his face. "You haven't seen any of your other gifts yet."

"Well, I already know they won't be as good as this one." She scrunches her nose at him.

"Guess we better go check them out, then." My sister smiles.

Lou wraps her arms around Leo's waist again, whispering, "I'm going to pretend I like all my presents the same amount, but I think this one will be my favorite still."

He pats the top of her head, bending down to whisper in her ear, though it's loud enough that we all hear it. "Your secret is safe with me."

The eight of us filter out of the garage and back to the party. I hear August quietly wish Lou a happy birthday as we exit the back door. My heart breaks a little as he adds, "Don't ever go out in the ocean by yourself, okay? No matter how cool your surfboard is."

She cocks her head at him, as if considering his advice before she nods. "Okay, I won't."

My heart breaks a little more when Everett pats him on the back and says, "We wouldn't let that happen, Auggie. She'll be safe."

August dips his chin, tossing both hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. His voice is gruff as he murmurs, "I'm going to step inside and grab something to drink."

Everett nods, grabbing my hand and interlacing our fingers as we make our way across the yard. August parts from the crowd, heading inside the house on his own, and I wonder if he feels safest that way, keeping a distance from any connection that might hurt him if it's lost.

Everett pauses in front of a group of parents standing around the food table, Tana leading the charge of them. "Hey, she's going to do presents now."

Six sets of eyes fall to the place where mine and Everett's hands are clasped before Tana raises her head. "Okay, cool. We'll be right over."

We don't miss the elevated whispers and the quiet snickers as we walk away, but Everett only squeezes my hand tighter.

I push the thoughts from my mind, gathering around the table stacked high with gifts. Lou is already tearing through wrapping paper. Patience is not her forte. She does a great job at enthusiastically thanking everyone, though.

Darby got her a bracelet-making kit and a coupon for a jewelry date, just the two of them. What Lou doesn't know is that my sister's gift is in tandem with mine—to make friendship bracelets for the Taylor Swift concert I bought Lou tickets for later this year—but I'll be giving her that gift later. It definitely beats Leo's surfboard, and I don't want to bruise his ego.

August gets her a coloring book, but it's filled entirely with black and white drawings he made himself. Different animals, landscapes, and some abstract designs. He included a box of colored pencils. She blushed when she thanked him. I think my daughter might have her first crush, and I'm not sure how I feel about it.

I can't say I blame her. August has that shy, damaged boy vibe and the soft smile that makes you think you might be able to fix him. Plus, there are those dreamy green eyes and that look that says he'd destroy you in bed but take real good care of you afterward.

Though it's nothing in comparison to the way I feel when Everett wraps his arms around my waist, nuzzling his chin into my shoulder and sighing contently as he watches my daughter open her gifts, like there is no place else he'd rather be.

When Lou finally gets to the small box in the middle of the pile, Everett shouts against my ear, "That one's from me, Luz!"

"What is it?" I ask quietly as we watch her tear it open.

"You'll see."

The box is a black cube. A jewelry box, I realize. Lou cocks her head as she studies it, unsure of what to make of it. I feel the same. Finally, she pops it open, but I can't see what's inside. All I hear is her shocked gasp, and I watch as her green eyes—wide as saucers—lift to Everett. I'm a little afraid of what her reaction will be, because ten-year-old kids typically aren't big fans of jewelry. At least, not real jewelry, and that box definitely doesn't look like it was bought at Claire's.

"Where did you find it?" she asks.

I look at Everett. "Find it?"

But his eyes aren't on me, they're on her, smiling in a way that reminds me of unfiltered sunlight. "I had it made."

She rounds the table, bypassing all of her friends and the other parents,making her way to me. Nestled on a white cushion is a necklace. It's a simple chain, with a small gold medallion in the middle. A star sits in the center of it, with prongs sticking out in four directions.

A compass.

Identical to the necklace around my throat right now. The matching one of which Lou lost a year ago, and I'd been unable to replace. Something I mentioned to Everett only once.

"How?" I ask, shocked.

He gently plucks the necklace from the box in Lou's hands and motions for her to turn around. "I remember you telling me she was upset when she lost hers. So, I had Darby take a picture of yours, and I took it to a jeweler in San Diego." Lou lifts her hair from the back of her neck as Everett fastens the chain at her nape and links it together. "I asked them to remake it."

I think I'm in love with him.

That thought comes out of nowhere, sucker-punching me directly in the gut, so hard, it takes my breath away. Or maybe that's just him, the way he's smiling at me. "Everett," I gasp. "That's so…" I don't have words. "That's so thoughtful."

He lifts his hand, brushing his thumb softly across my cheek before looking back down at my daughter again. "Do you like it?"

She wraps her arms around his waist, hugging him. "So much. Thank you."

He seems a bit surprised by the physical contact. Lou, like me, has never been much of a hugger. It's well known she's not comfortable around men, but that must be changing around Leo and Everett, because she has been incredibly affectionate today. "You're welcome, Luz."

"Which one should I open next, Mount Everest?"

Leo snorts. "Good one, Lulu. Let's keep that one."

"Absolutely not," Everett dead-pans. He reaches across the table, grabbing another small box and handing it to my daughter. "Who's this one from?"

"That's from us." Monica claps her hands together happily.

She quickly tears the paper off the medium-sized box and throws it aside, revealing the packaging for a polaroid camera. I bite back a laugh as she turns it in her hands, inspecting it curiously as she tries to figure out what it is.

Lou glances up at Monica. "Can I try it?"

"Absolutely, kiddo." Carlos smiles, squatting down to show her how it works. "Go ahead and take a photo."

Wedging herself between me and Everett, Lou says, "Let's take a picture!" She hands Everett the camera as I lift her into my arms, and he holds it up to his face to take a photo of the two of us when Lou says, "No. A selfie."

"Of me?" he asks, popping a brow. "No." She rolls her eyes. "Of all three of us."

"Oh." I swear, I see a bit of blush rise to his cheeks, and I can't bite back the grin that comes to my face. Everett wraps one arm around my waist, pulling me into him with Lou between us. She places one hand on my cheek and the other on Everett's, smooshing our faces together as Everett holds out the camera and snaps the photo.

I hear a couple of awes from parents standing around as the flash goes off. Setting Lou down, I glance up to see Monica staring after me with what looks like tears in her eyes. My sister is smirking, as if to say: I told you so .

"That's so cool!" Lou exclaims as the photo prints and she watches the image appear in real time. She barrels into Monica and Carlos' arms. "Thanks."

I pluck the photo from her sticky little hands. "I'll keep this safe while you open the rest of your presents, okay?"

Forty-five minutes later, the backyard is littered in torn up wrapping paper, and the table is covered in cake. Sugar-crashed kids start turning lethargic, and people begin clearing out.

Once I'm sure everyone has had their fill, I take the remaining cake inside the kitchen so I can put it away. I promised our coworkers at the office I'd bring all the leftovers to work on Monday.

I'm separating each flavor of cake into separate Tupperware containers when I hear footsteps enter the kitchen behind me. " Fuck ," Everett hisses. "That carne asada was so good. I told myself I wouldn't like it, because that fucker will never let me hear the end of it now." He saddles up next to me at the counter, smirking at me in his wicked way.

"You a big fan of Emilio's meat, Ramos?" I smile.

He shoots me an incredulous look. "He's not my type."

"Hmm," I hum, knocking him with my shoulder. "What is your type?"

His voice is rough against my ear as he leans down, pressing the heat of his body into my back and whispering, "Lately, pretty blondes with smart-ass mouths."

"Oh," I say casually, pretending like the feel of him doesn't set every molecule in my body on fire. "So, Leo."

He presses closer, harder. Bracing his hands on either side of the counter, boxing me in front of him so I'm unable to escape, his next move is bolder than we allow ourselves to be with each other. He's brazen as his teeth nip lightly at the base of my ear. "You're just filthy, aren't you, Wildflower?"

Fuck.

I drop the knife I was using to cut the cake, and Everett laughs as it clatters against the counter, giving me away. Trembles rock through the entirety of my being at that sound, following it as it cascades down my skin and pools in my core.

My composure around him is hanging by a fucking thread.

"What is your type?" I find myself asking, the words coming out just above a whisper. "When it comes to…men." I'm not even sure why I ask, the feel of his body and the sound of his voice rendering me incapable of logical thought. I realize it's something I've been curious about.

"I pride myself on not having one. I like who I like," he whispers sensually, as if he's playing some sort of game. "Though, I do tend to be drawn to pretty boys. Why? What's your type?"

"Tall. Rugged. Handsome." I don't bother lying. I notice his grip on the counter tighten. "I like tattoos. Beards. Wicked smiles and dirty mouths."

He lets out a soft groan, the feel of it vibrating against my neck and setting my skin on fire. "I like lots of beards too."

"Shoot." I let out a breathless laugh. "I guess I don't do it for you, then."

He chuckles against my jaw, and I feel one of his hands at my waist. "Baby, you have no fucking clue what you do to me."

Moving way too fucking slowly beneath the hem of my shirt, calloused knuckles drag along my bare skin. My legs feel weak, and my breath hitches as his hand continues to climb. I'm ready to beg him to move faster, to give me more.

More touch, more sound, more sensation.

Just. More. Always more from him.

It's not possible for me to hold back the moan that rips from my throat as Everett's hand slides beneath my bra, my nipple hardening against his palm. I arch into him, writhing against his front, feeling the hardness of his arousal pressing into my ass. He groans at the friction, lips latching onto my jaw as he begins to kiss his way down my neck, mouth gliding along my shoulder and teeth nipping at my scorching skin.

"God, Dal, you taste so fucking good. So sweet. I need to taste you everywhere."

I whimper at his words, grinding against him harder. He pins my hips with his free hand, pinching my nipple with the other. Rolling against me in the same delicious rhythm he fucked me with all those months ago, I feel his cock press into me.

I can't believe we're doing this here, right now. I don't know how we got to this point, but I do know I don't want to stop. I'm trying to consider how I can get him upstairs and out of his clothes before anyone notices us. "Everett," I cry out as he rolls his hips again.

"Tell me what you need, baby." His teeth sink into my flesh.

"Shit," I hiss. "I need…" I just need him. "I need—"

Tufts of laughter filter in from outside the kitchen.

I gasp, pressing away from Everett, but he holds me steady. So smoothly, he spins us around so we're facing away from the counter and in the direction the voices came from. Positioning me directly in front of him, he holds one arm at my waist and tucks a wild strand of hair behind my ear just as Tana walks in with Jeremy and Marshall—the dads of a friend from Lou's class—in tow.

Stumbling as they enter, Tana's eyes widen as she takes us in. I'm sure my skin is flushed, and I can feel the neckline of my t-shirt askew. I realize Everett is holding me in front of him to block his hard-on, though I don't think the notion is hiding anything at all.

"Sorry," she drawls, eyes narrowing. "We wanted to let you know we were about to take off…"

"Oh, great," I say breathlessly. "Thank you so much for coming. She loved the gifts."

Jeremy and Marshall smirk knowingly. "Thanks for having us."

"Will we see you at the science fair next week?" Tana asks in a sickly sweet tone.

"Yep!" I say at the same time Everett adds, "We'll both be there."

She pops a brow, giving an insincere smile as they make their way past us and toward the front of the house.

"Goddammit," I mutter. Stepping away from Everett, I lean against the counter, dropping my head into my hands. "That is the exact opposite of what this arrangement is supposed to be conveying."

Everett sighs, but one hand remains at the center of my back, continuing to rub gently. "What do you mean, Dal? This is exactly the purpose of this arrangement ." The word comes out as a near growl, as if he hates hearing it. "To convince people we're together."

I nod tightly. " And to convince people I'm not a horrible mother whoring herself around. Getting felt up at our child's birthday party hardly sends a wholesome message. What if something like this gets back to my dad?"

"Baby," Everett breathes. "First of all, nothing is getting back to your dad. Secondly, you're allowed to have a break. Take a moment for yourself. You're allowed to feel good in this life and not apologize for it." He stops rubbing my back, instead spinning me around so I'm facing him before pulling me into his chest and wrapping both arms around my shoulders.

I feel safe when his familiar scent envelopes me—the way his chin fits perfectly at the top of my head and he lightly sways us back and forth, as if he's rocking the anxiety from my body. I nuzzle into his warmth, taking that moment he claims I'm entitled to.

"We weren't fucking in the kitchen, Dahlia, and we hardly even touch around Lou. There is no world in which any person—including those bitchy parents—would be able to convince anyone you're a bad mother. And even if someone tries, I'm going to be right there next to you the entire time. I'll fight with you, fight for you. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, Wildflower."

I grasp the fabric of his shirt at his back, tugging him into me tighter, breathing him in, savoring his touch until I feel like I'm whole again.

Hours later, when the inflatables are taken down, the trash is cleaned up, and the birthday girl is passed out cold in her bed, I walk Everett to the front door. He stayed and helped the entire time, washing the dishes with me even after my sister and Leo called it a night.

He asked if he could help me put Lou to bed again, the same way he did on Thanksgiving, on Christmas Eve after a party we threw for the local small business owners, and again on New Year's Eve when Lou and I both passed out on the couch before midnight.

We helped her hang the polaroid of the three of us on the bulletin board she keeps above her bed. Then, she insisted on reading two chapters on the Nancy Drew series she was gifted by Elena. Even though she has never met Lou, she had the box of books delivered this week. In the card, she noted it was the series that made her fall in love with reading as a child.

Lou then asked if she could read one of Elena's books, and though I've never gotten my hands on any of them, the way Leo, Darby, and Everett's faces blanched at the question told me Lou certainly should not have her hands anywhere near Elena's writing.

Everett sat at the edge of Lou's bed while I read to her until her faint snoring interrupted me on page five.

Now, we stand in the foyer, the brisk night air filtering through the open door as he stares after me. "Thanks for everything today," I say quietly. "The necklace you bought her is beautiful. I know she loves it."

"I hoped she would." He smiles. "I'm always here, Wildflower, for whatever you need. But I hope you know," he lifts his hand, taking my necklace between his fingers and sliding his thumb across the metal, "that there is no place I'd rather be, and nobody I'd rather be spending my time with than the two of you. It's not a chore to me. It's what I want to be doing."

I nod, my breath catching as his fingers make contact with my skin when he places the necklace back at the center of my chest. We're standing close, close enough that if my breathing becomes any more rapid, our chests would be brushing.

I watch Everett's eyes roam from my neck and focus on my mouth. He takes a deep breath, as if settling himself. His tongue snakes across his lips, and for one second I think he's going to lean in and kiss me. I'm sure of it, so sure that I close my eyes, bracing for the warmth of his touch and the feel of his tongue I remember from that night all those months ago.

Instead, he sighs, seeming to think better of it. My eyes fly open, and the expression on his face looks pained. "I'll see you on Monday," he whispers. "For that meeting with Dawn Patrol." A surf wear brand that wants to partner with the shop. Well, with Leo, in particular.

I nod, hiding my disappointment.

He presses his lips to my forehead just briefly before walking out into the night. I watch him until he rounds the corner of the garage and is out of sight. Shutting the door, I flip off the dining room light and turn to head up the stairs when I'm startled by a quiet, yet somehow aggressive knock on the door.

Knowing it can't be anyone else but him, I open it.

Everett's breathing heavily, eyes wild, and only one thought filters through my mind: he came back to kiss me.

He's going to kiss me.

He looks positively feral.

But he doesn't ravish me, doesn't close the gap between us.

No, he slowly holds up a crumpled piece of paper.

"Who the fuck did this, Dahlia?" he asks, voice heavy and strained.

Written across the page in black ink is one word: WHORE.