26. Wicked

26

Wicked

You're Invaluable, Everett

"You're angry."

My eyes filter to my brother, staring me down with confusion on his face, before they flutter back to Dahlia's office doorway, where I watch her sort through the reports she'll need for our meeting in ten minutes.

Dawn Patrol, a well-known surf wear brand, is looking to do a collaboration with Heathen's. A line of boards and apparel designed in partnership with us. Well, with Leo. He'll be the face of the campaign, obviously. I'm not entirely sure why I need to be here, but apparently, as the co-owner of the business, my presence is required, even if it's not necessarily important. Plus, Dahlia is here.

Technically, Dahlia doesn't have to be here either. She works for the small business initiative, not Heathen's itself. With her background in marketing, though, Leo thought it would be a good idea to have her involved, to help determine the benefits and impact this partnership could have on our store and the boardwalk as a whole.

She looks nervous, chewing on her lip as she reviews a piece of paper laid out on her desk in front of her. She's dressed professionally, in a black pencil skirt that hugs her thighs flawlessly. A deep red, v-neck blouse with long sleeves is tucked into that skirt, clinging to every one of her curves. She finished off her look with a pair of black pumps that have me damn near salivating. I want that skirt hiked up to her waist. I want those legs wrapped around my head and those heels digging into my back.

Fuck.

I swallow, attempting to readjust myself inconspicuously.

Yeah, I am angry—angry with her, and the way she looks makes me keep forgetting. "I can't believe she didn't tell me, that this has been going on since October ."

"It's not because she didn't trust you," Leo says. "She didn't tell anyone, not even Darby.

I think she genuinely thought it was no big deal, especially since, prior to Saturday, it'd been a one-time thing."

"Then I'm angry at her for being so fucking obtuse to her own safety."

"I'm sure she would've told you about the notes once she found the second one. I mean, if you hadn't found it yourself."

Across the office, I know she can't hear us, but her head snaps sideways all the same, meeting my face. She gives me an apologetic smile, and I only nod back. Saturday night, she hardly even seemed upset at the note we'd found, like she was numb to it. Those kinds of names. That kind of harassment. She said she's convinced it's the other parents at Lou's school just trying to remind her how unwelcome she is.

When I asked her why they'd go so far, her only response was that it's nothing new.

That made me see red.

I'm angry at her for not telling me, but more than that, I'm angry she thinks this is normal, that she believes she deserves this somehow. I'm also scared. I'm so afraid of her being hurt, afraid of things going so far that she runs away, that she begins to feel unsafe in the place I've always felt safest in. That Pacific Shores stops feeling like home to her. I want her to feel at home here. I want her to feel at home with me.

"I'm sorry I doubted your feelings for her." My brother's voice breaks my focus, and I realize I've been staring after Dahlia again. "I'm sorry I told you to stay away from her."

"Forgiven," I murmur quietly. I can't blame my brother for that, not with the way I typically behave, with how important I can now see Dahlia has become to him. Not with all the scars I now know she bears.

"I love you," he adds.

I look at him, blue eyes soft and sincere. The small smile that comes to my lips isn't forced when I respond, "I love you too."

Leo's unafraid of affection, and I suppose I'm the same. My mom drilled it into us from a young age. It took a while for Leo to say those words to her after his mother died and his father abandoned him.

My mom, however, told him she loved him the day his father called and informed her he'd fled the state and left Leo with us, that he wasn't coming back. She sat all three of us down—Leo, Elena, and me—and told us Leo wasn't going anywhere. Then, she told him that she loved him. I don't think he'd heard the words since before his mother's passing a year prior.

My parents fought for guardianship so Leo wouldn't have to go into foster care. My mom told him she loved him every morning when we left for school and every afternoon when we returned. I don't remember when he began saying it back to her, but I do remember the first time he said it to me.

The day Zach died.

It was as if Leo was afraid I'd be next, and he needed me to know. He has been that way since, so I always say it back. I make sure he knows too.

Thoughts filter to my sister. The affection my mom placed on Leo and I didn't seem to leave its mark on Elena. I think her love language was silent giving. Necklaces she made us, palm readings, or in depth analysis of our birth chart. Poems she'd slip beneath our doors in the middle of the night, ones she'd write about being bonded, protected, and accepted. Her love was in her written words.

Until it wasn't.

Until love became so foreign to her that the words died with it. The act of love, the gift of it, ceases to exist. There are no more poems, no more books. She hardly remembers to call and check in, and as much as I want to be angry at her for it, I know it's happening because she's broken.

Because for Elena, the word love was always a question.

And all the answers died with Zach.

"Good morning," Dahlia chimes, breaking me from my thoughts. She's followed into the office by two reps from Dawn Patrol, and Leo's agent, Lynn. "Are we ready to get started?"

Leo and I stand, greeting everyone and shaking hands before we all take our respective places around the table. Dahlia sits across from me, flashing a closed lip smile before diving into her presentation. As I watch her speak, I realize that as much as I want to be angry at her, I can't. She has been broken too.

A half-hour later, Dawn Patrol is deep into their proposal, and I'm attempting not to fall asleep. They've been going back and forth with Lynn negotiating Leo's commission. They argue that Leo's pending retirement devalues him, while Lynn attempts to argue that his value has increased since his announcement, that his decision to settle down and start a family has made him more relatable and personable.

When they finally settle on a number, the Dawn Patrol rep dives directly into design aspects and which products will be featured throughout the campaign. My eyes grow heavier.

"I'm sorry," Dahlia interrupts, her sweet voice snapping me awake. "Are we not going to discuss Everett's commission for this campaign as well?"

Everyone looks at her like she has grown three heads, including me.

Lynn clears her throat, leaning in and saying quietly to our half of the table, "Leo is being commissioned for his personal brand, his name and likeness. He'll be inputting additional time into the campaign. Photoshoots, interviews, and so on."

Dahlia cocks her head, and instead of addressing Lynn, she turns her attention to the Dawn Patrol representatives, whose names I can't remember. "Why isn't Everett, as the co-owner of Heathen's, being asked to participate in the campaign as well?"

One of them, a round, bald man who appears to be in his fifties, straightens his tie. "Well…" He coughs. "Excuse my…my bluntness…" I hold up my palms to let him know I won't be offended by whatever he has to say next. I've heard it all before. "Leo Graham is a household name, a living legend in the name of surfing. Everett is…"

"The other half of this company?" Dahlia snaps. "The person keeping it afloat every time Leo jets around the world? Everett is the person who has stood by Leo since before he was Leo Graham . Who housed him when he was orphaned and let him borrow surfboards when he had nothing. Who sat out on the waves with him every day so he could become the living legend you speak of." Dahlia's jaw sets, eyes wild with emotion. "There would be no Leo Graham , and no Heathen's, if not for Everett Ramos."

"Dal," I whisper. "It's fine—"

"No, it's not." She looks at me, and I see so much conviction in her gaze, I dissolve beneath it. She's standing up for me. Turning to my brother, she murmurs, "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You're completely right, Dal. In fact," a slow grin spreads across his mouth as he turns to Lynn, "Everett's cut matches mine, or I'm walking."

"Leo," Lynn hisses. Looking back at the bald man, she smiles tightly. "Can we have a moment?"

"No, I don't need a moment," my brother continues. "Everett will be included in all marketing for the campaign, and you'll pay him whatever you pay me."

"We simply don't have the budget allocated to—" the other Dawn Patrol rep, a younger woman with dark hair and frown lines, begins.

"Then pay me less. Just make sure whatever you are paying me, my brother gets the same."

Lynn's face falls into her hands, but Dahlia is smiling proudly at Leo.

"Yes, well. Of course. We can figure out how to make that work." The bald man begins rapidly sorting through papers before he glances up at us. "My main concern is the campaign. We planned on launching with a photoshoot of Leo in the line, and as I said before, he's a household…"

"You're telling me that if you took that man's shirt off and plastered him on a poster, it wouldn't catch attention?" Dahlia flutters a delicate hand in my direction. "They don't need to know his name; they only need to look at him. I'll bet he can sell anything Leo can."

My brother laughs. "Your confidence in me is astounding, Dahlia."

She smirks, giving him a side-long glance. "Not everyone likes a pretty boy." Glancing back to Dawn Patrol, she shrugs. "You'd reach a wider audience that way."

The two reps look at each other, raising their brows in silent conversation before the bald man nods once. He stands, extending his hand to me. "I think we've come to an agreement, then."

I rise, returning the gesture. "Looking forward to it."

I'm not, really. I've got no desire to model alongside my brother. He made me do it once before the shop opened. We had a photographer come take photos of us to hang up in the store, and I hated every minute of it. I don't enjoy that kind of attention, and I don't need money badly enough to beg for a cut of Leo's deals. But watching Dahlia stand up for me like that, watching her believe I had the same value my brother has, awakened something inside me. I've always come second to him—until her. So, if she wants me to take this campaign on, then I'll do that. For her.

We finish out the meeting, approving the designs Dawn Patrol mocked up. Leo and I sign a contract under Lynn's reluctant eye. Once the conference room clears and only my brother, Dahlia, Lynn, and me remain, I say to Dahlia, "Do you think we could talk in your office for a moment?"

My brother is shooting me a devilish smile as Dahlia nods silently and follows me across the room toward her office. I hold the door open for her as we walk inside, slamming it shut the moment she enters.

Grabbing her arm, I spin her so she's pinned between the door and my chest. Bracing my arm on the wall above her head, I lean in close. Her eyes flutter upward, two blazing sapphires that see right through me.

"Nobody has ever done that for me before."

"What?" she whispers.

"Stood up for me." My voice turns rough as I add, "Seen my value."

She slowly lifts a hand, wrapping it around the nape of my neck. My body shudders beneath her touch as she brushes her thumb against my skin. "You're invaluable, Everett."

All of my resolve melts as those words burn into me. My head drops, nose grazing against her cheek and lips pressing into her jaw. I inhale her paradise scent, feel her skin on my mouth as I whisper, "I need to kiss you now."

She lets out a soft laugh. "Finally." I pull back to look at her, a blush running up her chest and into her cheeks. A teasing smile accents her lips, her ocean eyes on fire. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and she believes me invaluable. "Are you going to—"

I steal her words, capturing her mouth with my own, and when she lets out a surprised moan, I steal that too. I inhale her breath, devouring her lips in a kiss that is fervent and desperate and far too long awaited. I want to absorb her touch, imprint her on my skin.

I attempt to do just that as her lips move against mine—soft, warm, and addicting. Dragging my hand down the door, I tangle it in her hair behind her head, tilting her face up slightly so I can kiss her deeper. She opens for me on a moan, and I let my tongue slip inside her mouth. My other hand runs the length of her body, slipping behind her back and grasping her perfect ass outside her tight skirt. I pull her into me, pinning her between my hand and my hips. She hisses when she feels my hard length press against her stomach, and I take the opportunity to slip her bottom lip between my teeth and bite down.

"Everett," she whimpers, the sweet music in her voice singing along my skin and opening all my senses. I'm hyper-aware of her—the strands of hair between my fingers, the feel of her flesh beneath my palm, the wet warmth of her tongue inside my mouth, and the drag of her breasts against my chest.

I'm consumed by her.

I know this will destroy me later, but in this moment, I revel in my wrecking.

Dragging my lips from hers, I kiss my way along her jaw and down her neck. She bucks her hips against me when I hit a soft spot behind her ear. She does it again when I nip at the hollow of her throat. I catalog these places—these moments. I memorize all the little things that bring her pleasure, praying she'll let me do them again.

"Do you," I pepper kisses down the center of her chest, "have any idea," dragging my lips along her sternum until I reach the v of her shirt, "how long I've craved doing this to you?" I glance up, finding those flaming eyes hooded and hazed. "What torture it is to be in your presence and not ravage you the way I do in my dreams?"

She throws her head back against the door, running her fingers through my hair and sending shivers down my spine. "Me too," she breathes. "I think about it all the time, about watching you come all the time."

"Fuck." I rapidly drag my mouth back up her body, finding her mouth again. Her hands land at my back, digging into me as if she wants to pull me closer. I wonder if she feels as consumed as I do, if she's also searching for a way to bind our beings.

I slide my hands up her bare thighs, taking her skirt with me as I wrap around her legs and hoist her up. She's pinned between the door and my body again, reminiscent of the night we met. Though then, I didn't know her name, had no idea how ingrained she'd become in my life.

I know we've kissed before, but this ? Holding her against me when I know her name, feeling her lips when I've seen her tears, knowing she's losing control with me when she's afraid to do so in any other aspect of her life… Fuck . It's different. Kissing Dahlia is a privilege, one I didn't know I had before, and something I'm damn sure I'll never take for granted again.

"I wanted you to kiss me Saturday night," she murmurs against my lips. "I was so sure you would when you came back to the door, but you didn't."

I capture her lip between my teeth again, dragging slowly as I let it go. "Because I knew once I kissed you, I wouldn't be able to stop," I moan into her mouth, and she takes the opportunity to flick her tongue across my teeth, eliciting another sound from me. "I knew I'd want to taste you, and I wasn't going to do that with our siblings downstairs or with your daughter two doors over." I kiss along her jaw again. "Not when I need to hear you scream my name."

She hums, letting her head fall back so she can bare her neck. I nip along it, taking her soft skin beneath my teeth, feeling her buck against my erection. "What about now?" she asks breathlessly. "What do you plan on doing now?"

"Now, Wildflower," I growl against her flesh, "I plan on devouring every inch of you. I won't stop until you're crying out for me, and I don't give a fuck who hears it."

"Anyone ever tell you you've got a filthy mouth?" she whimpers.

I smile against her lips. "Let me show you all the wicked things I can do with it."

I pull us back from the door, marching across the office with her in my arms before sitting her down on the desk. I hear items go falling to the floor beneath us, but we're both past caring. Dahlia leans back, bracing her hands on the wood and widening her legs for me to step between them. I move slowly, tracing my tongue along her jaw and down her neck, moving between her breasts again, my mouth meeting the fabric of her top.

Reaching for her blouse so I can untuck it from her skirt and pull it off her, Dahlia's desk phone suddenly rings. We pause, and she looks up at me with lust-hazed eyes, flushed cheeks, and swollen lips. I think I could come from the sight of her alone.

"Don't answer it," I snap.

She nods rapidly, and the chiming stops just as I dip my head to continue my descent down the rest of her body—until the goddamn phone starts ringing again.

I sigh against her chest, feeling her body tense beneath my mouth.

"Answer the fucking phone, Everett!" It's my brother's voice that booms from the other side of the door. "Adam is downstairs, and he'd like to go home. He's wondering where you are, since you're supposed to be relieving him."

"Goddammit," I mutter.

Moving back up, I take Dahlia's face between my hands, planting a soft kiss against her mouth. "I'm so sorry," I say, pressing my lips to each cheek. "I'm sorry." Then her jaw. "I've got to go cover the desk." Then her nose. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she says breathlessly. "We were probably getting a little carried away for the workplace anyway."

I pull back to smirk at her before planting one more kiss on her mouth. "Don't leave for the day until I come back, okay?"

She nods. "I've got to pick up Lou from your mom's at five o'clock, though."

I forgot Dahlia had asked my mother to pick Lou up from school today, since she wasn't sure how long our meeting with Dawn Patrol would last and Darby's working on the finishing touches for the flower shop before it opens.

"I'll be back before then."

"Okay," she says, giving me a coy smile as I stand and readjust my hard-on.

Just as I reach her office door, I find myself doubling back. She's surprised as I take her face between my palms again and kiss her one more time. "I can't get enough."

She's laughing by the time I finally make it out the door.