Page 124 of Wicked & Wildflower

“You got like potato chips or something? I need to eat.” Leo pats his stomach, getting up from the couch.

“I don’t have much,” August responds. “But I know you’ll make yourself at home anyway, so feel free to scrounge around for whatever you can find.”

“You got pickles?” I ask, realizing how hungry I am. Fuck, if a crisp dill pickle doesn’t sound good right now.

“Yeah.”

“Leo!” I shout after he’s gone into the kitchen. “Pickles!”

“Pickles! Fuck yeah.”

The next hour passes quickly as we make small talk. We discuss the coffee shop more, both August and Leo elated that Dahlia agreed to be part of it with us. August asks about the wedding, and Leo practically vibrates with excitement over it.

Like he has been waiting all his life to marry Darby.

Finally, after my entire body feels practically numb, August shuts off his equipment and rolls his chair back. “I’ve got the line work done, but you’re going to have to come back next week for shading.”

“Got it.” I salute him.

“At the shop, though. I can’t do it here.”

“Why?” I ask as I hop off the bench and admire his work.

“I’ve got some realtors coming by throughout the week so I’m going to be having to hide all this away and keep the place clean.”

I whip around just as Leo dives off the couch. “You’re selling?” we ask at the same time.

“I’m just exploring my options,” August says in a light-hearted tone, but the smile he gives us is strained. “The mortgage on this house was never intended to be paid with one income.” He shrugs. “I’ve just…I’ve got to consider downsizing before I get to the point where I’m choosing between my business and my home.”

“I can help—” Leo starts.

August holds up a hand, shaking his head. “Do not even start with that.”

My brother sighs defeatedly, sinking back into the couch.

“How long do you have? Managing both?”

“I’m okay,” August says reassuringly. “I’ll make it through the summer just fine. You know how things die down in the winter. We all take a hit.”

Leo and I nod in understanding, though none of us are at risk of choosing between our businesses or the roof over our heads.

“If it gets that bad, please consider letting us help you,” Leo pleads.

“What about a roommate?” I ask.

August looks at me, tilting his head, as if he hasn’t considered that before. His lips twitch up at the corner, almost imperceptibly. “Yeah. That could work.”

42

Wicked

I’m Their Fucking Endgame

I swing my keyring around my finger as I stroll into the parking lot of Lou’s elementary school. A last-minute floral emergency caused a change in plans, and while Darby and Dahlia are at Honeysuckle finalizing arrangements for the wedding tomorrow, I offered to pick Lou up from school this afternoon so they could focus.

Lou doesn’t know about the change and would be looking for her mom’s Honda rather than my Jeep, so I figured I’d just wait for her in the lobby. I flip my sunglasses on top of my head as I walk inside and plop down in one of the chairs.

Tana sits at the reception desk on the other side of the glass, chatting with a tall, lanky man who has his back turned to me. “I’m so sorry you’ve been going through that,” she says softly. “That’s awful.”

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