Page 33 of Wildflower and Whiskey
Shit. I came out here to forget about Elyna, not get the third degree.
“Fine, I don’t know,” I mumbled.
I got a round of confused looks from my siblings.
“How do you not know?” Eric asked. “You went to high school with her. We grew up around the Chabots. You know who she is.”
“We never got a long and that isn’t going to change overnight,” I replied with nonchalance as I stood near the edge of the boat, calm and steady like always. I flicked my wrist, and the fishing rod arced smoothly, the line sailed out over the water. I’d practiced this move since I was a young boy and Dad took us fishing. I reeled in just a little, then settled in with one hand on the rod and the other around my beer.
“Bro, you’ve got a hot chick living under your roof and you don’t acknowledge her?” Asher piped up.
I side-eyed him. “What do you know? Besides, Elyna is a single mom. She’s got a lot on her plate. I’m giving her a place to live. She doesn’t need me hounding her.”
“Hounding was not where my mind went,” Eric said, smirking.
I kept my face blank, focused on the water. Inside though? I was hard just thinking about her. Hard remembering the way she clutched at me like she’d break if I let go. My brothers could joke all they wanted, but they had no idea what kind of war I was fighting.
The afternoon blurred with laughter, beers, and fish. Becket bragged over the bass he caught. Asher nearly toppled overboard. But even then, with sunlight glinting off the lake and my brothers loud around me, I couldn’t quiet the storm inside me. Elyna was there, under my skin, every second.
As we headed back to the house, hauling fish, and prepping for the cookout Bean insisted on, I knew nothing about today had fixed a damn thing. Because later, Elyna would be here. Andthe longer she avoided me, the more I wanted her. I was like a thread waiting to snap.
CHAPTER 18
Elyna
The pike sizzled over the flames, the scent of lemon and charcoal curled across the deck. Phoenix stood at the grill, broad shoulders tense, working those tongs like the flames had personally offended him.
And maybe they had. Or maybe I had.
It had been a week since that kiss in the stockroom where I was so hot and desperate. Damn, I hated how consumed I’d felt by it, by him. I came apart in his arms, gasping his name like he was the only man who had ever touched me. I hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.
But I’d put up walls out of necessity. I had to, because getting close to Phoenix Thorne was dangerous. Now I sat at the picnic bench on the deck, Braden fussing against my chest, my shirt pulled and damp with his tears. My arms ached from rocking him. I was exhausted, pulled thin. But even so, I couldn’t help glancing toward the grill. Watching Phoenix, jaw set, eyes on the flames like the whole damn world rested on his shoulders. With Pierre at work, he looked like the head of his household out here. His brothers moved around him with a kind of ease, like they knew he’d keep it all steady. He was gruff and impatient, sure,but they looked up to him. He looked out for them, for everyone really.
“You want me to take him?” Eric offered gently, holding his arms out.
I blinked at him, caught off guard. “Are you sure?”
“Eric loves babies,” Asher teased, smirking over his beer.
“You do?” I asked Eric, surprised by the offer.
“I have no experience with babies, but I figured it’s worth a try,” he said with a chuckle.
It wasn’t promising, but my arms were burning. “My arms could use a break,” I said, passing Braden carefully into his hands.
And just like that, Braden melted against him, his head dropping to Eric’s shoulder, his sobs easing to soft hiccups.
I let out a sigh right as Phoenix’s low growl cut across the deck. “Show-off.”
Eric turned, still smiling. “What?”
“Nothing.” Phoenix’s voice was clipped. “Just focus on the guests and I’ll handle the actual food.”
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. His voice carried an edge I knew too well. It was jealousy. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t stir something inside me. Knowing this man was jealous of his brother holding my son did something to my insides, and that made my guard lower. The truth was, Eric felt like a kid brother to me. Asher too. I’d never thought of them any other way. But Phoenix… was different. Watching him at that grill, muscles taut, eyes darting toward me when he thought I wouldn’t notice. . .he was the one I couldn’t seem to ignore. And we’d been playing this dangerous game all week. Catching each other’s eyes across the brewery, across the deck, across the smallest spaces. And then looking away just as fast, as if neither of us wanted to admit what burned between us. Phoenix flipped the fish with more force than necessary,shoulders tight, mouth pressed in a hard line. He was more frustrated than I’d ever seen him. Grumpier too. And still, my heart hammered, because no matter how hard I tried to shut him out, I couldn’t stop wanting him.
I was relieved when Riley hadn’t reached out again all week, but I knew in my bones it wasn’t over. That storm was still circling. And in the middle of it, Phoenix burned in my mind because he was the protector, the provider, the man I shouldn’t want. The man who made me weak with a single kiss.
“Fish is done,” he called, his spatula slamming against the grill.
