28. Wildflower

28

Wildflower

Save A Wave, Ride A Surfer

"Good morning, my little flower child." I smile as my sister flops down into the beach chair next to mine.

"Whoever convinced me it was a good idea to open a business and plan a wedding at the same time needs a swift kick in the ass." She rubs at her eyes, squinting in the morning sunlight.

"I think that'd be him." I nod toward the horizon, where her fiancé stands shirtless, leaning against a propped-up surfboard. Leo smiles when he catches sight of my sister, shooting her a wink.

He and Everett are in the middle of their Dawn Patrol photoshoot, and while Leo is a natural behind the camera, Everett looks increasingly uncomfortable. He looks hot as hell—bare skin oiled and tattoos on display—but his demeanor tells me he'd rather be anywhere else. His eyes continue to catch mine, and in those moments, he looks more like he'd rather be all over me again instead. In the two weeks since our initial meeting with Dawn Patrol, since he dropped to his knees in front of my desk and made me see stars, Everett and I have had approximately twelve office make-out sessions, but I have had zero additional orgasms.

We agreed to sex, but I vetoed any more workplace… incidents . We have coffee in my office between meetings, or some days, I'll take my lunch down at the auto shop and we eat in his office there. We talk and laugh. We kiss—a lot. But the first time we have sex—well, the second time—I'd like to be in private, with an unlimited time frame. And a bed.

I don't want Everett over when my daughter is home. I don't want him in my bed when she's across the hall. I think she has caught onto the idea that there is something more than friendship going on between us but exposing her to that level of intimacy feels permanent. I don't want her thinking Everett is more to her—or to me—than what he is now. I don't want her thinking he's going to be in our lives forever when it's quite possible he'll stumble upon the love of his life on any given day and his priorities will change.

I won't break my daughter's heart by allowing her to believe a man is filling the void her father left until I'm confident I've found a man committed to being that for her, who'd stay for her even if he left me. I'm not always so sure I deserve love, but I know with certainty that my daughter does.

So, despite finally agreeing to hook up again, Everett and I have yet to do the deed. Darby and Leo have been too busy opening the flower shop, and even though I'm fairly certain Monica and Carlos would babysit for me any time I ask, the idea of saying, "Hey, can you watch my kid while I fuck yours?" seems to be a bit much for me.

Everett has been patient. I'm hopeful now that Honeysuckle Florals is open and Leo finally hired a wedding planner to help them out, I'll be able to convince them to take Lou for a night so I can stay with Everett. Though, another obstacle I can't let myself think about is how I'd even go about explaining that to my daughter.

I shake those thoughts away and glance at my sister, who's rubbing sunscreen into her tanned legs. "The Grand Opening was great, and it appears business is already booming."

Honeysuckle has been flooded with customers since its opening last weekend. Her store is all shades of pastel, with buckets of flowers lining the entrance and paintings in the windows. Walking inside feels like a warm spring day, like instant peace. She's exactly what the boardwalk needed. Darby has been dead set on handling things herself, refusing any marketing assistance from me or help from the small business initiative to get things up and running. She was determined to do it all on her own.

I think the flower shop became her way of proving she didn't just leave our hometown—our parents or her ex-fiancé—because Leo showed up one day and rescued her. She was on a journey to finding herself for a while, and all he gave her was the push she needed to take the leap. Darby's entire life, she has been taken care of, programmed by our father to believe she wasn't capable of doing so for herself. By taking care of her, he controlled her, and then he passed that control onto his associate, Jackson, when he essentially arranged their marriage.

The one time in Darby's life she found the courage and bravery to go against my parents was the summer she spent here in Pacific Shores. With Leo. Then, when she found out I was pregnant and locked in the house by our father, being forced into an abortion I didn't want to have, she stole our grandmother's car and attempted to make the drive from California back to Kansas—to rescue me. But not before she experienced her own kind of irreversible trauma, which ended a shattered spirit when my father was the one to ultimately cart her back to Crestwell.

All that courage and bravery—all her wild nature—died that day. I wasn't there, but I saw it in her eyes when she came home. She'd been broken, and seeing her here—thriving, laughing, living, and dreaming—it's like she has been put back together.

As much as Leo saved her, I know she wishes she could've saved herself first, and I think taking on this business is her way of doing so. Taking on this venture is brave and courageous, and while she might be my younger sister, I often find myself wishing I could be more like her when I grow up.

"I'm proud of you, Darby," I find myself saying.

She whips her head to the side, surprise in her hazel eyes. Her features soften as she smiles at me, reaching out to take my hand. "I'm proud of you too."

I squeeze her fingers before pulling away. "Where is my child, by the way?"

My sister laughs, throwing on her sunglasses and leaning back in her chair. She promised Leo she'd try to step away from the shop for a few hours this morning to watch the photoshoot, and Everett demanded I be here too. He said since I was the one who threw a fit about him not being included, it only makes sense that I also suffer through it. Although, I'm laying on the beach watching Everett pose shirtless, so I'm not entirely sure what he meant by suffering .

"She's still assembling the little five-dollar bouquets for me." Darby smiles. "Monica is in there helping her, though. Once they run out of flowers, they'll probably come down here."

I nod, settling back in my own chair. It turns out that ten-year-olds aren't particularly interested in early morning photoshoots, and since they're doing it in front of the pier, I told Lou she could hang out in the flower shop instead, as long as she stayed with Monica or Darby.

The prospect of my daughter growing up in a town like this makes me smile. Having an aunt and uncle with shops on the boardwalk I picture her growing up running around. Working there in the summers when she's a teenager. It warms something in my chest. I want her to feel at home here. I want this town to be her home.

My eyes drift to Everett again. The director has both he and Leo knee-deep in the waves, the pier stretching out into the ocean behind them, and the morning sun bright on their faces. The water appears a translucent blue, lapping against Everett's hips and complimenting the tone of his skin. He stretches his arms over his head, muscles in his stomach and chest flexing with the movement. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth as I watch him move and pose. Despite clearly being unfamiliar and uncomfortable with modeling, he looks flawless.

I study his arms and think about the way they feel holding me up when he wraps me around his hips and kisses me breathless. I watch his hands and think about the way they felt inside me, how they look when they're grabbing me, running along my skin. I watch his chest move with his breath, reminding me of the way it feels pinned against mine when he presses me into a wall, the way it feels like he's breathing life into my body when he kisses me. My eyes finally find his face, and I realize he's watching me too. Smiling wide, he winks.

"You're drooling again, cara ."

The sound of Monica's voice has me jumping in my chair, a gasp flying from my throat as my hand flies to my chest. "Fuck, Monica. You scared me."

"Mom," Lou drawls from where she stands next to Everett's mother. "A dollar."

Monica smirks at me. "I figure you'd have heard us coming, but you were…distracted." Darby chuckles from next to me. "You're no better," she chides my sister.

"I'm allowed to drool." Darby winks at me, raising her hand to flash her engagement ring.

I roll my eyes and take the beach bag from Monica's arms, unpacking Lou's towel, sunscreen, and her book. Darby and Monica talk softly about operations at the flower shop. It's the first time Darby is leaving it with only her staff—two college students she hired on—and I can see the nerves rippling off her, but Monica quietly assures her while I set up a spot for Lou between our chairs and beneath the umbrella.

Once Lou's settled in the sand and reading her book, my sister glances at me. "I…" She sighs. "I wanted to let you know that I've spoken to Mom."

I look at Lou to make sure she's not paying attention. I rarely mention my parents, and she rarely asks about them. They say kids are intuitive, and I think it's always been clear that my parents saw my child as nothing more than my biggest mistake. I think she always knew their love and affection was conditional, the same way I'd been able to see it since I was a child myself. She doesn't miss them, I don't think, but I try to recognize their existence as little as possible. Luckily, Lou is so engrossed in Nancy Drew, she's not paying an ounce of attention.

"Why?" I ask my sister. An uneasy sensation takes over my body.

"She called to congratulate me on the wedding," Darby says. "She found out from a tabloid. I felt kind of bad about that."

"You have nothing to feel bad for."

She nods. "I know. I just… I think she's a victim too. I know she's not perfect. She wasn't even a good mother. I just can't help but wonder what she'd have been like if he wasn't around, the same way I wonder if I would've become her if it wasn't for him," she nods toward her fiancé in the waves, "or for you."

"You would've always found your way out," I say with conviction. "You're stronger than her." I shrug. "I can't find it in myself to care that she was weak. I can't find it in myself to accept that as an excuse." I know it's harsh, but it's true. "As a mother myself, there isn't anyone on this planet that could put me in a position where I would treat my child the way…" I trail off. My mother may not have been the one who locked me in the house or told me I was worthless. She may not have been the one to throw things or break doors, but she never stopped him, never defended us. "There is no amount of fear that would drive me to be like her, no amount of approval I could seek to do the things she's done or act the way she has." I look into my sister's eyes, glimmering gold in the sunlight. "I'm not sure there is anything that can be done at this point for me to forgive her either."

Darby lets out a long breath. "I think I might want to try. Not for her or for him, but just for me. I feel like it's what I need to let go of that part of my life and embrace everything I have now."

"I get it," I say, because I do. I understand why she feels the way she does, I just don't have it in me to feel the same. "But if she starts guilt tripping you into coming home, if she brings up him, or Lou—"

"I've set clear boundaries. She knows I'll cut her off without a second thought." She chews on her lip. "Plus, she said Dad doesn't even know she's contacting me."

I nod.

"Will you be upset with me for speaking with her? Forgiving her?"

I grab her hand again, holding tightly. "Never. As long as you won't be mad at me for being unable to let it go."

"Never," she responds.

I'm half asleep before something dark covers the brightness behind my closed lids. I open one eye and find Leo standing over us, water dripping down his shirtless chest as he places his hands on his hips and smiles.

"Hi." My sister laughs. "Are you done?"

He shakes his head. "Just taking a break while they torture Everett." Swaying on his feet, he looks almost giddy about something, filled with anticipation. "Did you ask her yet?"

"Oh." Darby sits up. "No, I forgot. Lulu?" My sister shakes my daughter's shoulder.

"What?" Lou glances up at her, face scrunched and appearing aggravated for her reading time being interrupted.

"Wow." Leo lets out a slow whistle. "That's the same look Honeysuckle gives me when she's reading about cowboys and I try talking to her." My sister rolls her eyes, letting out a snort. "It's a little insulting, honestly," he continues. "Like, what could a cowboy offer you that I can't?"

"You know what they say," I chime. "Save a horse."

"That's weird. I thought the term was ‘save a wave, ride a surfer.'"

Darby cups her hands around her mouth, letting out a low, "Boo."

Leo crawls over my sister, straddling her chair as he begins shaking his hair over top of her, water droplets flying all around him.

"Stop!" Darby shrieks with laughter. "You're getting me wet."

"Hell yeah, I am, baby." He nuzzles his face against her neck, kissing along her jaw. "I bet your cowboys can't do it like I can."

" ?Ya basta! Hay ni?os y suegras presentes ," Monica shouts from Darby's other side. I'm not sure exactly what she's saying, but I assume it's something like ‘shut the fuck up' because that's what I'm about to start yelling too.

" Lo siento, mama ," Leo mutters, climbing off my sister. Darby's cheeks are flushed, but her eyes glow with adoration.

He wraps his arms around my sister, lifting her and taking her seat before setting her down on his lap. My daughter looks back at them both with a scowl. "You guys are being loud."

"Sorry, Lulu." Leo laughs. "We have a question for you, though."

She lets out an exasperated sigh. "Okay, what is it?"

She has been really into those Nancy Drew books, and she gets irritable when interrupted.

"Will you be our flower girl?" My sister beams.

Obviously, we all expect Lou to say yes, but in a few weeks, Darby has a dress fitting at a bridal boutique in downtown Los Angeles. Apparently, she found her dress when she and Leo were in Portugal last summer, and it's being shipped to L.A. I thought it would be fun to bring Lou with us and let her pick out her dress while we were there. I told Darby and Leo she'd get extra excited if they made a big deal out of asking her, and Leo tends to make a big deal out of everything.

My daughter only lifts her brows at Leo and her aunt. "That depends," she says. "Is the wedding actually going to happen this time?"

Darby rears back, face deepening with shock. "The snark on you, kid."

"Lucille," I snap. "That was rude."

My daughter glances up at my sister before murmuring, "Sorry."

Leo only laughs. "It's okay to change your mind about something if it's not the right thing for you, Lulu." He strokes a hand down my sister's hair. "Sometimes, it takes a person a little while to figure out what's right for them, but it's okay to change your course if you find something better."

She seems to contemplate that for a second, regret flashing across her face. "And Jackson wasn't the right person for Aunt Darby?"

"Exactly."

"But you are?"

"Obviously."

"Why?"

"Because I'm cool?" He says it like an obvious answer, but there is a glimmer of amusement on his face at my daughter's questioning.

Lou gives him a bemused look, glancing at my sister for more of an explanation, like she's not entirely convinced. Darby laughs. "He's my person, Lulu."

"And that's who you marry? Your person?"

Darby smiles. "Yep."

Finally, she nods. "Okay, I'll be your flower girl."

My sister stands from Leo's lap, squatting down to the ground where Lou sits, wrapping my daughter in her arms and pressing a kiss to the top of her forehead. As she pulls away, Lou turns to me. "Is Everett your person, Mom?"

I feel my eyes all but burst out of my head, mouth dropping open. I glance at my sister, to Leo and Monica. All of them hold the same expression, eyes darting back and forth between Lou and me. Everett and I have been doing very little to hide our chemistry, not that it'd even be possible to ignore at this point, but I had no idea how openly I'd been wearing my emotions. Nerves explode through my chest at her question, but the answer on the tip of my tongue is: I hope so.

Knowing I can't admit that to her—to any of them—I simply stare, mouth gaping like a fish. "Oh… I– um." Frantically looking at Darby, I plead for help with my eyes. She only shrugs, like she has no idea how to respond either.

"Because I think he'd be a good one," Lou continues.

My mouth clamps shut, mind reeling. "Really?"

"Yeah." Lou nods nonchalantly, settling back on her towel and re-opening her book. "If you married Everett, I think that would be cool."

Leo, Monica, and my sister blink rapidly, jaws dropped. None of us say anything, attempting to act casual at the suggestion my daughter just made. Nobody says a goddamn word, the silence thick and palpable between us. Eventually, though, Leo and Darby look at me with shit-eating grins, and I notice Monica's eyes growing a little watery.

I have no fucking clue how to react to any of it.

I turn my head, looking out at the horizon just in time to find Everett jogging over to us, none the wiser. I wait for him to slow to a stroll, to stop in front of me, but he doesn't. He continues running, barreling right up to my chair and grabbing me beneath the arms.

"What are you doing?" I gasp as he lifts me into his arms and tosses my body over his shoulder. Our family watches us curiously as he begins heading back toward the waves.

"I told you I was going to make you suffer with me." He laughs.

"See? They act like you two." I hear Lou say as Everett runs away with me in his arms. "I think he's her person because they're loud and annoying."

My chest flutters at those words, heart beating harder as Darby adds through laughter, "I think you might be right, kid." She gives me a knowing smile, but before I can react to any of it, Everett lowers me, holding me tight against his chest as he barrels into the ocean.

The water is stinging cold, nipping at my toes and legs, clinging to my clothes, biting my cheeks and nose. As swiftly as he pulled me under, Everett rises out of the water again. I throw my arms around his neck, legs wrapping around his waist. "What the fuck , Everett?"

The water is damn near freezing, it feels like. It's late February, and despite being in Southern California, it's nowhere near swimming weather.

Everett only laughs against my ear. "You were looking a little sleepy over there. Relaxing too hard, I think." He adjusts his hold on me, scooping his hands beneath my ass. "I thought a little polar plunge could wake you up."

"You are crazy," I mutter.

He pulls back from my neck, smiling at me in a way that feels like spring, eyes a warm shade of amber in the bright light of the midday sun. All of him is warm, and despite being chest-deep in the frigid ocean, I don't feel the cold at all.

"Crazy about you."

I'm fully aware of our family watching us right now, including my daughter. I've tried to set boundaries, to keep her from realizing how deeply I feel for this man out of fear for her doing the same and both of us ending up broken later. It appears I've failed at that, though, because she has fallen for him as hard as I have.

"I see the way you look at me, Wildflower, and I want you to know that I'm seeing you the exact same way."

That's not possible , I think to myself. Because he's like the spring— warm and bright. I'm like the winter, like the water we're standing in now, frigid and cold.

"How am I looking at you?" I ask him anyway.

He drops his forehead to mine, and I can feel his lips move against my skin when he says, "Like you can't fight it anymore."

I can't. I should. For the sake of both of us—for all of us—I should.

Maybe I'm weaker than I thought, because instead of pulling away like a stronger, smarter woman would, I get closer. I feather my lips between his, cupping the back of his neck and pressing his mouth against mine. He groans, opening for me. The kiss is quick but deep, full of unspoken words neither of us know how to say.

I hear the distant whistles and cheers of our family from the shore.

All of us seem to be rooting for inevitable disaster.