Page 10 of Wildflower and Whiskey
“You didn’t have to chase me,” she said without turning around.
“Yeah, I did.” I closed the door behind me. “You’re not fine, Elyna. You can’t expect me to believe otherwise when you look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
She whipped around, gray eyes flashing. “So what if I haven’t? It’s not your problem, Phoenix. You don’t need to fix me.”
The words hit harder than they should have. “I’m not trying to fix you,” I said evenly. “I’m just asking you to stop shutting me out.”
Her jaw tightened, and for a second, I thought she’d fire back with another wall of sarcasm. But instead, her shoulders slumped, and she leaned against the counter like she couldn’t keep standing upright on her own.
“I can handle my own life,” she whispered.
I stepped closer, taking in the fresh floral scent of her shampoo. She had a loose piece of hair that fell out of herponytail and into her eyes, and I tucked it behind her ear. Her breath caught and my heart stammered in my chest.
She finally lifted her gaze and, for one charged moment, neither one of us looked away.
The truth was, I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. I was sucked in by her beauty, but there was something more. Something beneath the surface that was brewing inside me, and I couldn’t figure out what it was. And then she shook her head and slipped past me, brushing my arm as she went. “I’ve got tables to set.”
I let her go, even though every muscle in my body screamed to follow her, to press harder, to make her see I wasn’t the enemy here.
But all of that was a challenge for another day because Elyna Chabot had built walls long before I’d ever stepped into her life, and I feared, if I tried to tear them down, they might destroy us both.
CHAPTER 5
Elyna
My cell buzzed on the counter while I was trying to coax mashed bananas into Braden’s mouth. Half of it ended up smeared across his cheek, the other half on his bib, but he kicked his little legs and gurgled like it was the best thing in the world. When I glanced at the screen, Isabelle Thorne’s name lit up. I almost didn’t answer. If Izzy was calling, it meant Phoenix had said something. And if Phoenix had said something, then my carefully built wall ofI’m fine, everything’s finewas starting to crack.
Still, I swiped to accept and pressed the speaker button. “Izzy, to what do I owe this pleasure? Has Luc gotten himself into trouble again?” I asked, forcing cheer into my voice.
She laughed softly. “You know your brother.”
“Trouble has a way of finding him.” I sighed. “What’s her name this time?”
“It isn’t like that,” she said quickly. “Luc’s trying to stay on the straight and narrow right now.”
I could picture her, probably on her way to class, with that easy confidence of hers. For a second, I envied how simple hermornings must be: no sleepless nights, no crying baby, no drunk father stumbling in at dawn.
“The real reason I called,” she continued carefully, “is because I was talking to Phoenix last night.”
My stomach dropped. My hand tightened on the spoon. “I’m going to kill him,” I snapped.
“Don’t, okay?” Izzy said immediately, concern in her tone.
“Did you tell Luc?” I asked, dreading her answer.
“No,” she admitted. “I haven’t said anything to him. But, Elyna… he deserves to know. You’re a mom now. You need to put Braden first. Having him in a bad environment with your dad isn’t a good idea…” she hesitated, “it isn’t safe.”
I looked down at my baby, his wide blue eyes fixed on me as if he understood more than he should. My throat tightened. “I’m out of options,” I whispered. “I don’t have money for a deposit to rent my own place. I’m managing. Papa isn’t home most of the time anyway.”
Izzy didn’t sound convinced, probably because I did a crap job of convincing myself. “He’s careless when he’s drinking. You better be sleeping with one eye open,” she cautioned. I knew that better than anyone as her words dredged up memories I wanted to forget like the time his flailing arm had left a bruise, the pot left burning on the stove, the night he tried to drive to the Frosted Mug wasted.
“I took the keys to his old truck,” I said quickly, defensive. “He has that Betty lady picking him up all hours of the day and night to go to the Frosted Mug.”
“I’m glad he isn’t driving drunk, but you know there’s more to his problem than just drunk driving,” she reminded. I knew she meant well, but I was on as much guard as I could be.
I let out a breath. “I’ll figure things out. Don’t worry.” But my words rang hollow.
“I can’t just not worry,” Izzy said softly. “And Luc would want to know what’s going on with you.” My brother would have a fit if he found out I was living here with Braden when Papa was so unhinged.
