Page 80 of Wicked & Wildflower

“Oh, great,” I say breathlessly. “Thank you so much for coming. She loved the gifts.”

Jeremy and Marshall smirk knowingly. “Thanks for having us.”

“Will we see you at the science fair next week?” Tana asks in a sickly sweet tone.

“Yep!” I say at the same time Everett adds, “We’ll both be there.”

She pops a brow, giving an insincere smile as they make their way past us and toward the front of the house.

“Goddammit,” I mutter. Stepping away from Everett, I lean against the counter, dropping my head into my hands. “That is the exact opposite of what thisarrangementis supposed to be conveying.”

Everett sighs, but one hand remains at the center of my back, continuing to rub gently. “What do you mean, Dal? This is exactly the purpose of thisarrangement.” The word comes out as a near growl, as if he hates hearing it. “To convince people we’re together.”

I nod tightly. “Andto convince people I’m not a horrible mother whoring herself around. Getting felt up at our child’s birthday party hardly sends a wholesome message. What if something like this gets back to my dad?”

“Baby,” Everett breathes. “First of all, nothing is getting back to your dad. Secondly, you’re allowed to have a break. Take a moment for yourself. You’re allowed to feel good in this life and not apologize for it.” He stops rubbing my back, instead spinning me around so I’m facing him before pulling me into his chest and wrapping both arms around my shoulders.

I feel safe when his familiar scent envelopes me—the way his chin fits perfectly at the top of my head and he lightly sways us back and forth, as if he’s rocking the anxiety from my body. I nuzzle into his warmth, taking that moment he claims I’m entitled to.

“We weren’t fucking in the kitchen, Dahlia, and we hardly even touch around Lou. There is no world in which any person—including those bitchy parents—would be able to convince anyone you’re a bad mother. And even if someone tries, I’m going to be right there next to you the entire time. I’ll fight with you, fight for you. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Wildflower.”

I grasp the fabric of his shirt at his back, tugging him into me tighter, breathing him in, savoring his touch until I feel like I’m whole again.

Hours later, when the inflatables are taken down, the trash is cleaned up, and the birthday girl is passed out cold in her bed, I walk Everett to the front door. He stayed and helped the entire time, washing the dishes with me even after my sister and Leo called it a night.

He asked if he could help me put Lou to bed again, the same way he did on Thanksgiving, on Christmas Eve after a party we threw for the local small business owners, and again on New Year’s Eve when Lou and I both passed out on the couch before midnight.

We helped her hang the polaroid of the three of us on the bulletin board she keeps above her bed. Then, she insisted on reading two chapters on the Nancy Drew series she was gifted by Elena. Even though she has never met Lou, she had the box ofbooks delivered this week. In the card, she noted it was the series that made her fall in love with reading as a child.

Lou then asked if she could read one of Elena’s books, and though I’ve never gotten my hands on any of them, the way Leo, Darby, and Everett’s faces blanched at the question told me Lou certainly should not have her hands anywhere near Elena’s writing.

Everett sat at the edge of Lou’s bed while I read to her until her faint snoring interrupted me on page five.

Now, we stand in the foyer, the brisk night air filtering through the open door as he stares after me. “Thanks for everything today,” I say quietly. “The necklace you bought her is beautiful. I know she loves it.”

“I hoped she would.” He smiles. “I’m always here, Wildflower, for whatever you need. But I hope you know,” he lifts his hand, taking my necklace between his fingers and sliding his thumb across the metal, “that there is no place I’d rather be, and nobody I’d rather be spending my time with than the two of you. It’s not a chore to me. It’s what I want to be doing.”

I nod, my breath catching as his fingers make contact with my skin when he places the necklace back at the center of my chest. We’re standing close, close enough that if my breathing becomes any more rapid, our chests would be brushing.

I watch Everett’s eyes roam from my neck and focus on my mouth. He takes a deep breath, as if settling himself. His tongue snakes across his lips, and for one second I think he’s going to lean in and kiss me. I’m sure of it, so sure that I close my eyes, bracing for the warmth of his touch and the feel of his tongue I remember from that night all those months ago.

Instead, he sighs, seeming to think better of it. My eyes fly open, and the expression on his face looks pained. “I’ll see you on Monday,” he whispers. “For that meeting with Dawn Patrol.”A surf wear brand that wants to partner with the shop. Well, with Leo, in particular.

I nod, hiding my disappointment.

He presses his lips to my forehead just briefly before walking out into the night. I watch him until he rounds the corner of the garage and is out of sight. Shutting the door, I flip off the dining room light and turn to head up the stairs when I’m startled by a quiet, yet somehow aggressive knock on the door.

Knowing it can’t be anyone else but him, I open it.

Everett’s breathing heavily, eyes wild, and only one thought filters through my mind: he came back to kiss me.

He’s going to kiss me.

He looks positively feral.

But he doesn’t ravish me, doesn’t close the gap between us.

No, he slowly holds up a crumpled piece of paper.

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