Page 25 of Wicked & Wildflower

It’s not just that I’m hyper-aware of my daughter being in the ocean. It’s also the way she laughs constantly when she’s talking to Everett, the way he teaches and guides her with kindness, patience, and ease, how happy and comfortable she looks next to him.

“He was one of Leo and Everett’s best friends growing up. Elena’s first boyfriend.” She clears her throat, and my eyes perk up at her use of the past tense. “Leo, Everett, Elena, Zach, and his brother, August, were inseparable from the age of about ten. Darby, too, that summer she was here.” She’s quiet for a moment. “He was in a surfing accident about three years ago. He didn’t make it.”

I gasp, breaking my gaze from the horizon and facing Monica. “Oh my God. I…” I shake my head, unsure of what to say. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

She nods thoughtfully. “None of the kids could stomach the ocean for some time after that. Leo… He found his way back first. It’s something written in his D.N.A. Everett followed soon after,” she says in a contemplative tone. “But Elena… She hasn’t stepped foot on the sand since. Went so far as to run away to New York City just to get away from it, I think.”

“You miss her,” I say quietly. She only nods in response. “Do you wish she’d move home?”

Monica shrugs. “If I thought she was happy in New York, thought she really moved there for her career and not to escape her grief, I’d be happy to have her there. But she hasn’t published a book since she landed there. I doubt she’s even tried writing one. I think she’s hiding from her sadness, and I don’t think she’ll ever get better by doing that. I think she needs to come home in order to heal.” She sighs. “But she’s an adult, and she’s stubborn as all hell. You’ll never convince that girl to do something she doesn’t want to. So, what choice do I have but wait for her to figure it out for herself?”

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

She gives me a soft smile, and I decide to change the subject. “Does your family always speak Spanish to each other? Or only you and Everett?”

She chuckles quietly. “It’s interchangeable. Depends on the mood, I guess? The kids took Italian when they were younger too. Elena is a little more drawn to that, as am I, so we try to speak frequently. A few of the other workers at the garage can speak Spanish, so Carlos and Everett converse more frequently in that environment. I think the Spanish comes a little more naturally for him, and with Elena gone, it happens to be what’s spoken most often at home.”

“Italian?” I ask.

“My grandparents are from Sicily,” she says. “My mom could speak a little, so I would learn from her when I was a child, but I was never fluent. When the high school the kids went to offered Italian classes, they both wanted to learn for me.” She smiles proudly. “So I wanted to learn for them. I began taking online classes, and we’ve been practicing together ever since.”

Fuck.The man is fluent intworomance languages?

“That’s beautiful,” I say, shaking away those thoughts as I realize I’m literally conversing with his mother.

We’re interrupted by the sound of screeching laughter, both of us looking out to the waves. Lou is calling for our attention as she stands on her board, her arms thrown out wide. Everett’s about a foot away, waist deep in the water with his hands held up, as if showing her that he isn’t touching the board. As she balances on her own for the first time, she cheers, and both Monica and I clap and whistle.

A small white cap breaks beneath her, and just as she loses her balance, Everett’s arm shoots out and grabs her around the middle before she can tumble into the water. He steadies theboard, setting her down on top of it and giving her a high-five again.

A few moments later, they make their way back to us, dragging their surfboards through the sand. Lou runs into me, exclaiming her excitement. “You did so great, bug,” I croon as I wrap her in a beach towel. “Can you tell Everett thank you?”

She turns to face him as I brush my fingers through her wet hair. “Thank you, Evvy.”

He purses his lips. “Oof. Yeah. That nickname is a no for me.” Lou rolls her eyes. “But of course, Luce. I had fun.” He looks at me. “Does this time next week work again?”

“Sure.” I smile, my eyes getting stuck on his glistening, wet skin, the beads of water that run the length of his torso. I track one as it disappears beneath his shorts. “Thank you,” I say, breaking my stare and meeting his gaze again.

His smile is wicked and knowing.

“Can we get ice cream on the way home?” Lou asks.

I let out a dramatic sigh, pretending like I’m contemplating it, even though I knew she’d ask. “I guess so. But we’ll have to get it to go.” She cocks her head at me. “I think there are a couple of people waiting to see you back at the house.” I smile.

Realizing she’d forgotten that her aunt got home late last night, she jumps up in a flurry of excitement and rapidly begins packing up our things. Everett, Monica, and I all laugh as we begin helping her.

“I can get a head start with her if you want to help Everett carry the surfboards back to the shop?” Monica asks. “I can meet you at the ice cream stand on the end of the boardwalk.”

I’m a little suspicious of her encouragement to leave Everett and I alone, but I say, “Yeah, that’s fine.” Nodding toward my daughter, I add, “Lucille, can you help Monica with the chairs and towels? I’ll meet you at the ice cream stand soon.”

I kiss Lou atop her head as she scurries off with her hands full. Bending over in the sand, I grab her orange board. Everett grabs his at the same moment, and we both stand tall as we face each other. My eyes stick on his body once again, traveling slowly along the planes of his chest, his broad shoulders, his tattooed neck, before meeting his face.

“You’ll need to stop looking at me like that, Wildflower.” He smirks.

“Looking at you like what?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. I’m looking at him like I’m hungry. Because I am.

“Like you’ve seen me naked. Like you wish you could see it all again.”

I bite my lip and glance away, willing myself to remember all the reasons I made him promise that we’d never cross that line again.

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