Page 33 of Something Like Sunflowers

I‘m not an idiot. I know what she and Lemon are doing right now. I know they’re trying to get me worked up dancing all over Gary and his friend. Devyn, rubbing up on him in her tiny fuckin’ dress and legs for miles. His hands on those legs.

I grind my teeth, flicking my gaze when I see her look my way. She can dance on him all she wants. I’m not playing her games. If Devyn wants my attention, she can come get it.

I’d give it to her freely.

At least, that’s how I wish I could react, but I can’t keep my cool if he keeps touching her like that, getting more handsy by the minute, rubbing across her hips and thighs while they sway to the music. He spins her and throws her into a pathetic excuse for a dip before pulling her up and barely managing to get her steady again.

Lemon doesn’t seem impressed by him, but that’s because she knows him like I do.

He’s a snake. And I wish I could say it was his own damn fault, because it’s not like he was a saint when we were kids or anything either, but it isn’t only that. I’m unfortunately tied to Garrison Presley in a way I wish I never was. In a way where he and I understand one another.

And I’m pissed at Lemon for not steering her clear of him to begin with. She might have had a rivalry with Dev when we were kids, but she and Shana are thick as thieves now. Come to think of it, over the last few years, she’s become one of my best friends too. She wouldn’t mess with Devyn like that.

Still, it doesn’t seem like she’s done a very good job of warning her off him. Probably hasn’t gotten stubborn-ass Dev away from him long enough to listen.

She knows nothing of my history with that man. Of the way he took his own tragedies and allowed them to harden over his heart, taking his pain out on the community who tried to offer him a helping hand. And he made it clear to me how he feels about my family. My name.

But you don’t get to take your anger out on others. Not when everyone’s out here fighting their own personal battles in this little town and finding a way to get by.

To love.

A community I’m trying to rebuild while he continues to do stuff that puts us right back where we started. Hell, I could throw that asshole out of here right now if I really wanted. I own fifty percent of this bar, after all. Because it brings tourists here, which brings patrons for shops, gas stations, hotels, and more. Our town lights up on the map now, when before nobody knew its name. And the money I make from my investment profits? I pump it into the community farming program.

Devyn has no idea that this fucker shoots his animals up with steroids or cages them inhumanely. She doesn’t know how he lets his waste run directly into the spring that contaminates everyone’s drinking water, with no repercussions because he’s the governor’s nephew. Doesn’t see how he treats his own kid. I don’t even think Garrison can see it through the liquor that’s probably replaced the blood in his head.

But Devyn just sees a pretty face willing to spin her around on the dance floor. She has no fuckin’ clue.

She seems into him.

Oh, hell naw.

I stalk to the dance floor, tugging Lemon away from Garrison’s creepy friend.

“Thank you.” She lets out a sigh of relief. “That guy was so gross. His hands were sweaty.” Her nostrils flare, and she shoots a quick glance at him over her shoulder, shuddering.

“Just what the hell is the princess thinking?” I ask Lemon in a hushed whisper. “And what are you doing letting her feel all over him? You know what he is to me.”

Lemon shoves me away from her face but keeps dancing with me for show. “It’s your fault, Isaac. Don’t blame me. If you weren’t such a liar, letting her believe the pageant was still a thing, she wouldn’t be all hellbent on finding someone who looks enough like you that she can—and these are her words, mind you—fuck you out of her system.”

My mouth drops open.

“She’s gonna…what? With him? He looks nothing like me!”

“Um…” Lemon hesitates and then sucks air through her teeth. “Yeah, he really does, hon. Like, your identical twin or something.”

“Evil twin is more like it. Please, Lem. You have to help me get her back. She can’t fuck my evil twin.”

Lemon thinks, tapping her purple fingernail to her chin and chipping away at my patience with each long, agonizing second. She’s as bad as Dev.

Are all women born this sassy or is it just the ones in my life?

“Come on, Lem, please!”

“Do you still love her?”

“What?”

“Do. You. Still. Love. Her?” She claps…annoyingly, I might add. “It’s a simple question. And it matters because I’m not wasting my time or Devyn’s helping you if it’s just for shits and giggles. She can have a fling with Garrison if that’s the case, and everyone will be better for it.”

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