Page 52 of Wicked & Wildflower

She clears her throat, and I notice that pretty flush back in her cheeks. “When I was pregnant, I…um…I spent a lot of time at home. I got bored easily, especially the first few months, since I was taking a break from school. The only thing that got my mind off …everything was cooking.” She laughs under her breath. “Except I hate cooking. But I love dessert. It started with cookies, and over time, I learned how to perfect recipes and explored more.” She hands me a bowl, and our fingers brush as I take it from her. Her skin is soft and warm beneath mine, and I hold it there for just a little longer than necessary. “By the time Lou was born, it had become a source of comfort for me, and then it became something we did together.”

I nod. “Why’d you spend so much time at home during your pregnancy?” I pause, glancing down at her, but she refuses to meet my eyes. “Were you sick a lot or something?”

She shakes her head, and her body goes stiff. It’s like I can see some sort of memory flood through her, haunting her daydreams.

I place my hand on her lower back, and she flinches at the contact. “I’m sorry.” I quickly pull it away. “I didn’t mean to bring up something that might…”

“My dad.” She shudders as whatever she’s remembering wracks through her.

“Your dad?”

She finally looks at me, storms raging in her blue eyes. “He locked me in the house. Took away my car. My phone. Cut off all my access to the outside world. He told me I could leave once I agreed to an abortion.” Her lips tighten as she swallows and blinks, turning her head in the other direction, fighting back tears. “They sent Darby away and wouldn’t let me talk to her, wouldn’t let me contact Jason and tell him. It was so fucking lonely. I was trapped.”

That word rings through me.Trapped.

They locked her in the house like she was their prisoner. Their embarrassment. Their mistake. They tried to hide her away from the world, shame her for what happened. I can’t imagine how it’d feel to be in that situation period, let alone because of one’s own parents.

I think my heart has broken for Dahlia before. I’ve seen hurt and fear and devastation in her eyes, and my heart ached because of it, but nothing quite compares to the raging storm and hurricane of despair that roars through my chest now.

“That’s why you freaked out about your car that morning,” I say quietly, still trying to process the horror of what she just told me. “It makes you feel trapped. You need to know you have an escape route. The ability to get away.”

Her eyes find mine, and though she doesn’t let them fall, I see the tears shimmering there, as if it’s the first time she has had words to name those emotions.

“Something like that.”

“Dahlia.” I step toward her. I’m almost afraid to touch her because of the way she flinched before, but I’ve also learned over the last few months that my touch brings her comfort. I slowly lift my hand toward her face, ensuring she can see it coming. Shedoesn’t shy away from it as I cup her cheek and run my thumb across her jaw. “I don’t want you toeverfeel that way again. You’ll always have a way out, an escape route. You’ll always have me to call.”

She lets her eyes flutter closed at those words, taking a deep breath and settling herself. “I’ve never told anyone that before.”

“It’s safe with me.”

As those blue pools fall open, all their depth lands on me, and I’m suddenly sucked inside them, drowning in them. I know then that I’d do anything she asked of me. I’d go to the ends of the Earth for her—for her daughter. I’m lost to her storm, and I belong to her sea.

I wonder if that’s written all over my face as the softest of smiles highlight her freckled cheeks. “I know.”

When we arrive home after trick-or-treating, Lou immediately plops down in the center of the living room floor, dumping her candy out across the rug so she can sort through it.

My parents had come by just before we left to see Lou in her costume—and to make fun of the rest of us in ours. They stayed at the house to hand out Dahlia’s truffles, since they don’t get many kids coming through their retirement estate.

Our costumes were horrendously embarrassing, but I know that kid was having the time of her life. It was weird that only a year ago, Leo had dragged me to some flashy Halloween party in L.A., and despite the frills and status, neither of us really wantedto be there. Even though this year, we were skipping around our neighborhood in homemade costumes, being laughed at by our neighbors, and following three blondes who completely turned our lives upside down, I don’t think either of us would’ve wanted to be doing anything else tonight.

Darby and Leo join Lou on the couch as Dahlia runs upstairs to get out of her shoes. My brother is still wearing his ugly ass blue pants and Captain America t-shirt, with the little hat and shield to match. I’m pretty certain the only shield Dahlia could find was for a children's costume, so it’s way too small for him. Either that, or Dahlia grabbed that shield on purpose so he’d look stupid, which only makes me more obsessed with her.

Darby got away with a pair of black jeans, purple hoodie, and a toy bow and arrow slung over her back. My assumption was that Dahlia would take the same route, but when she appeared at the bottom of the staircase earlier, I was met with a costume that was anything but casual.

Tight, faux leather pants looked practically painted on her, with her lush hips and the dip of her waist hugged by a black athletic jacket. The zipper stopped right at the center of her chest, giving off the smallest glimpse of her flawless, full breasts. Thigh-high, heeled boots with silver stripes ran up her legs, and a matching belt sat fastened at her waist. Her blonde hair was sleek and straight at her shoulders, and she even painted her lips cherry-red.

The sight of her sent all the blood rushing straight to my dick. As she walked down the stairs in front of my entire family, I watched, slack-jawed and drooling.

“What?”she’d asked, feigning innocence.“I thought this was what you wanted?”

“Everything I’ve ever wanted,”I found myself saying without much thought.

Thinking back, I don’t think I meant to say the words out loud, but the way she had smiled was well worth it. I’ll put my heart out on my sleeve—in the palm of my hand—for her if it means she’s going to blush and smile at me like that.

If I let myself think too hard about the fact that she’s above me right now, peeling those pants off her smooth legs, I’m going to lose my mind. So, I retire to the kitchen, putting away the leftover truffles. I secretly stash a handful aside to bring home for myself.

I think the evening went well. Lou skipped with excitement to the front door of every house in the neighborhood, sometimes dragging one of us with her. People gushed over her costume—a sparkly, red, long-sleeved unitard that ran down to her ankles, a silver circle fitted in the center of the chest, a gold belt wrapped around her middle. She also had a golden tutu, an Iron Man helmet propped at the top of her head, and a yellow pillowcase for collecting candy.

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