36. Wildflower

36

Wildflower

Sunshine, Blue Horizons, And Him.

Warm, spring air whips at my face, gusting through my hair. The roar of the road is deafening, drowning out all other noise, firmly placing my mind inside what feels like a bubble of sunshine, blue horizons, and him .

My hands lock around his waist, holding tightly as he flies down the coastal highway. Each time we're stopped or slowed, he takes a hand off the handlebars and wraps his fingers through mine or brushes them up my bare thigh, keeping me securely in the moment with him.

I'm not sure where we are, but I know we went west out of L.A., and about a half hour later, I could see the ocean. We've been speeding down the 101, right along the beach's edge, for about forty minutes now. Towering green mountains are on one side of me, the endless sea on the other. The sun is at its peak, glittering across the white caps like diamonds. Palms line the highway, swaying in the breeze. The world smells like sea salt and fresh air.

I don't know where Everett's taking me, but I don't much care, not with the way his body feels against mine—safe and warm, with the breeze and the sun and the smell of the ocean. I imagine I'd go just about anywhere with him.

The bike comes to a crawl as we turn off the highway and enter some state park I don't catch the name of. The one-lane, paved road winds up the mountain, and we ride along the cliffside to the top of it. Everett turns, shimmying his bike around a locked gate, clearly intended to cut off access to the gravel road that continues toward the peak.

It's still too loud for me to ask what he's doing, so I just hold onto him tightly, anticipation fluttering in my stomach until we reach the top and he brings his bike to a stop at the edge of a ridge, the Pacific stretching on for an eternity in front of us.

He kills the engine, taking his helmet off as he spins in the seat, grinning down at me. "How was that, Dal?" he asks, unbuckling the strap of the helmet beneath my chin and pulling it off my head.

"It was…" I find myself at a loss for words. I told him I had dreams of driving up and down the West Coast when I was younger, how I longed for a car that was impractical for a mother but could make me feel wild and free again, how much I dreaded turning thirty because it reminded me of the loss of my youth.

All these tiny words I said in passing but never expected him to remember.

In one afternoon, he had me feeling all the things I thought I'd been missing, obliterated my fears, and made my dreams come true.

He gave me everything and then some.

He's… "Beautiful," I say.

He hops off the bike, grabbing my waist and throwing one of my legs over as he helps me down from the seat. Reaching into the fabric case strapped to the back of his motorcycle, Everett pulls out a backpack. Holding firmly onto my hand, he takes off toward the cliffside.

"We're not even there yet, baby." He turns back at me, the sun hitting his face at the perfect angle, allowing me to see his amber eyes through his sunglasses.

"What do you me—" I'm cut off when we reach the edge.

The ocean extends in front of us, wide and blue, but what has me halting, losing my breath, is the rolling hills of bright flowers. Like the sun and sky clashing together, the fields stretch beyond us, meeting the ocean at the horizon. Yellow, red, and pink dot the landscape in front of us, with an overwhelming number of orange flowers taking up the space.

Wildflowers, I realize.

Everett takes my hand, navigating us down a narrow dirt path between the flowers. "Careful not to step on them," he says. "It's a fragile ecosystem, which is why it's not open to tourists anymore." He leads me along until we reach a small patch of plain grass within the blooms. Pulling a blanket from the backpack and spreading it out on the ground, he sits down, pulling me beside him.

"How did you find this place?" I ask, settling in against his chest as he drapes his arm around my shoulders.

"My dad used to take us here all the time when we were kids. It has been a while, but I remember the wildflowers peak around this time of year and…" He shrugs. "I don't know. I thought of you, I guess."

He seems almost bashful at the admission. Reaching into the bag he brought with us, he pulls out a small cooler before opening it to reveal a container of chocolate-covered strawberries.

Very messily made chocolate-covered strawberries.

"Those look homemade." I laugh.

"Luz and I made them."

I look up at him, watching as he plucks one out of the box and holds it to my lips. "You? Made these with my daughter?" I ask just before he slides the strawberry between my lips. I bite into it, feeling the sweet juice coat my tongue, mixing with the rich chocolate. "When did you do that?"

"Yesterday," he says simply. "I told you I was at the garage, but I actually spent the day with her and my mom at their house. We wanted to make you something for your birthday, and she said strawberries are your favorite."

"They are." I don't know what else to say. It's spring break for the school district, and Monica offered to watch Lou so I wouldn't have to take the week off work.

I had no idea that Everett had taken Friday off from his own business to spend time with my daughter, to plan a surprise for my birthday.

I've never had anyone do something like this for me.

Still holding the strawberry to my mouth, I lean forward and take another bite, keeping my eyes locked on him the entire time. His flare with heat as I wrap my lips around it, pulling back slowly.

He runs the fruit across my jaw and down my neck, skating it along my collarbone, leaving behind the melted chocolate before popping the remainder of it into his own mouth. He never takes his gaze from mine, and my breath catches as he leans in and drags his tongue across my skin. Flames erupt across my flesh.

I cup the back of his neck as he licks and nips across my throat, sucking the chocolate away. A primal moan tears from him as my fingers tangle in his hair, pulling his mouth to mine. He catches my lips in a fierce kiss that is such a contrast to the way he delicately lays me back on the blanket and hovers his body over mine.

"Happy Birthday, Dahlia," he murmurs into my mouth as he continues devouring me.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I cling to him like a lifeline, and he wraps an arm around my waist, holding me just as tight. His lips move from my mouth, peppering soft kisses along my jaw.

"You guys didn't need to do all this for me," I say breathlessly.

Everett pauses, pulling up to look at me. Eyes bright with conviction bore through me as he says, "We wanted to." I watch his throat move as he swallows before adding, "We love you."

My heart hammers so erratically in my chest, I know he must feel it too. The pounding between us is enough to make this mountain crumble, because we both know he just said exactly what I think he did.

I brush my thumb across his jaw, savoring the way his stubbled skin feels beneath my hand—rough and soft, like him. I study all his perfect features, knowing I'm so far gone, I'll never come back.

"Why did you do all this for me, Everett?" I ask again, knowing he understands the question hidden beneath my words.

I watch him slowly lick his lips, buying himself time before taking a deep breath and pulling up, taking me with him so we're both sitting now, facing each other with our limbs entwined.

"I know you said you can't give me anything more than your body. I understand why that is. I don't expect anything more." He looks down at where my hand is pressed against the blanket, and he slowly places his over it. "But that doesn't stop me from wanting to give you everything. All of me." He slowly drags his eyes from our joined hands to my face, meeting my own. "You deserved to know that you're loved, Dahlia. Loved by me."

"I'm not easy to love," I find myself saying.

"Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done. The hard part is that you won't let me." Reaching up to softly cup my face, he continues, "My love isn't fickle, Dahlia. I'm not afraid to fight for you. For us. Every second of every day, if that's what it takes. I'm not afraid of imperfection or reality. I'm not afraid of your broken pieces." He runs his thumb along my cheek. "I'm broken too, but together, we can be whole." Everett smiles, emotion glistening behind his amber eyes. "You're everything I've been searching for my entire life and never believed I'd find. I know you think you're not worth fighting for, baby, but just give me the chance to show you you're wrong."

My eyes fall closed, soaking in his words as I nuzzle my face into the palm of his hand, allowing myself to absorb everything he just said, every emotion in his gaze, the power of his presence.

I feel all the same things he does—maybe even more—but I don't know how to make myself say the words. "I don't know how to be selfless with my love," I admit quietly. "When I was a child, that word was never used, I was never taught how to express that feeling, or what it even was."

Everett's brows knit together at his forehead, concern and confusion etched into his beautiful face, but he nods for me to continue.

"When I got older and began to understand what love is—the weight of loving someone and all that meant—I quickly realized I was not loved the way a daughter should be by her parents, and I think that's why they never used it." I pause, biting back the trembling in my jaw, the rising emotion. "When I fell for Jason, I finally realized what it meant to be in love and how heavy that could be. I trusted him. I gave him what I had been told my whole life was the most valuable part of me—my body. I gave him all that pent-up love I never got to express." A tear I failed to hold back spills over, cascading slowly down my cheek. Everett immediately stops it with his thumb, swiping it away. "It was like…once he had it, it lost its value. He didn't want it anymore, and he certainly didn't want to give me his. I chased and chased him, desperate to get back all that love I gave away."

I take a breath, swallowing the sob that wants to claw its way out of my chest. "Then, I had Lou, and I realized what the true value of love is, how what I thought I'd experienced before hardly scratched the surface of the depths I feel for her. All she simply had to do was exist, and she already received everything I had left to give."

I close my eyes, knowing I'll crumble beneath the weight of Everett's stare. My eyes well with tears, and I let them fall this time. I allow myself to weep as he pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around my back, attempting to quell the trembling in my limbs.

"What was wrong with me that my parents had never done the same? What was wrong with me, and the half of me in her, that made her father unable to give either of us a drop of love?"

Everett doesn't respond, because answers to questions like that can't be found.

He runs his hand down the back of my head, hushing my cries and rocking me in his arms. I take a moment to compose myself, letting out all the emotion I've held back my entire life—things I've never shared with another soul because I've always been so afraid they'd see whatever my parents had in me, that they'd realize I'm not worth loving.

Finally pulling out of his embrace, I'm the one cupping his face in my hands now, ensuring he's looking directly at me as I say, "I've been left to ponder that my whole life. I've been drained of it, and there is hardly enough left for myself most days. I don't know how to give any more. I don't know how to say the words. I'm afraid if I do, I'll lose myself."

He drops his head so our noses brush together, and I feel him smiling against my lips. "You don't have to say them to me, Wildflower, but I'll give you all of mine just the same." Bringing his hand to the back of my neck, he brushes his fingers along my skin. "I'll show you that love is endless. It's infinite. I'll show you that you're worthy of it. I'll love you enough for the both of us until your well is overflowing."

Warm air rushes from his lips, sending shivers across my flesh. I shudder beneath the weight of his emotion—of his love.

"What if that takes a while?" I ask.

"You're my wildflower." He lets out a breathless laugh. "You blew into town one day on a whim and planted yourself right inside my soul. You're rooted in me now, baby. I don't mind waiting to watch you bloom."

I sigh against his lips, feeling him smile as he closes that sliver of a gap between us and takes my breath away with his kiss.

"I've been waiting my whole life to love you, Dahlia. We've got nothing but time."