Page 27 of Wicked & Wildflower

She snorts. “What makes you say that?”

I duck my head so we’re closer to the same level. She lifts hers to meet me halfway. Her chest presses against my crossed arms, and we’re near enough to share breath. I feel every place our bodies align, as if my molecules are on high alert to her proximity. “The fact that I’m staring at your lips right now and knowing I’ll never feel them again… It’s breaking my heart, Wildflower.”

“Don’t flirt with me.”

I tsk, giving her a smirk. “Telling me not to flirt with you is like telling me not to breathe around you. It’s biological, written in my D.N.A. It sustains my life source.”

Her eyes flare, and I see the challenge in them, the same look she gave me that night at the bar. Her breasts brush against my arms as she raises on her toes, the sensation sending all of the blood in my body straight to my cock.

Her lips are just a hair’s breadth from mine, and I feel the softness of her breathing against my mouth. I don’t move a fucking muscle, afraid of ruining what may come next. Just like the night we met, the ball is entirely in her court. I wait for her to decide how she wants to play me, knowing when it’s said and done that I’ll fucking thank her for it.

Her mouth nearly touches mine as she smiles. In the softest tone, pure seduction dripping from her voice, she murmurs, “Then don’t breathe.”

I let out a shaky exhale as she steps back with a triumphant smile on her face. I’m damn near ready to unleash myself on her, kiss her breathless right here on this beach. She raises her brows at me, as if challenging me to do so.

Suddenly, a chiming noise erupts from her pocket, breaking our moment.

I can’t ignore the annoyance that flashes across her face at the interruption, as if she wasn’t ready for it to end either. She gives me an apologetic look as she fishes her phone out of her back pocket. “It’s probably Darby wondering where we are. Are you going to come by–”

She pauses as she stares down at her screen, and all evidence of that wild and fierce woman from a few moments ago vanishes entirely.

She’s no longer that girl I met in the bar weeks ago. She’s now the terrified woman I found in my shop with a man’s grip around her arm. “Is it your dad?” I ask.

She looks up at me with fearful eyes, giving me a shallow shake of her head. “It’s not my father…” She sighs. “It’s my daughter’s.”

I feel my eyes go wide as my mouth drops open.

I obviously knew that Louhasa dad. I’ve just never heard her nor Dahlia speak of him before. I’ve never even heard Darby mention him. I figured he was entirely out of the picture.

“You seem afraid,” I say cautiously. Her eyes snap to mine, creased and careful. “Is he dangerous, Dahlia?” My stomach knots as I ask the question.

“No.” She bites her lip, looking back to her screen. “Not in the way you’re thinking. I just… I didn’t…” She huffs in frustration.

“You should answer it,” I say. “Figure out what he wants. Otherwise, it’ll be eating at you all day. At least this way, we can figure out a path forward, and then you can enjoy having your sister home.”

She slides her thumb across the screen, holding the phone to her ear as she says, “There is no ‘we’, Everett. This is my mess. Mine alone.”

That stings.

“Hello?” she answers breathlessly. She swallows deeply, quiet for a moment as she takes in whatever is being said on the other side of the line. “How did you—” She rolls her eyes. “Of course. You know you don’t—” She’s cut off. Dahlia glances at me briefly, and it somehow makes me feel like I’m interrupting, but I refuse to leave her here alone. “I don’t owe you that.” She grabs Lou’s surfboard from the stand and begins stalking off toward the shop. I follow behind her.

I hear brief clips of “No” and “How” and “But”, though it appears she’s interrupted every time she tries to get a thought out. It fucking enrages me.

We reach the front door of Heathen’s, and she drops the surfboard onto the ground, placing a hand on her hip as she looks out at the horizon. I watch her jaw tighten, and her refusal to look at me tells me she’s on the verge of tears. “Jason, who would possibl–” She stops again, and my heart stops in my chest as she turns to face me, eyes red-rimmed, chest heaving, pure devastation on her face. Fear and fury warp together in her eyes as she looks at me. “No, he wouldn’t.”

As whatever response she receives filters through her head, her eyes fall closed and her bottom lip trembles. She doesn’t say anything else as she lets the phone fall from her ear and ends the call. I watch her breathe for a moment— rage and worry rushing through me.

“Dahlia…”

Her eyes fall open, and she attempts to shake away whatever emotions are holding her hostage, but I see her fail. “I have to go home,” she says quietly, and something about her tone makesme question if she means Darby and Leo’s house, or something else entirely.

“Let me take you.”

She shakes her head. “No, no. I need to… I just need to get Lou and go home.” She runs a hand through her hair, glancing around as if unsure entirely of where she is.

“Dahlia, what—”

“Everett, please.” She lets out a sigh. “Thank you for today. I know Lou appreciates it, but I need to go. I’ll see you later.”

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