Page 14 of Lavender and Lightning

“Not the ones that are under the pack’s name. Which just so happens to be everything except my personal account, where his stipend comes from,” Alexandra answers, with another one of those mysterious chuckles, like she’s laughing at a joke only she knows.

The stipend, the money her father pays Seth to keep him quiet, is not an insignificant sum, but with Seth’s social media career, it’s almost unnecessary. I sit in silence and think about this strange conversation the rest of the way into Everton’s Old Town district, where Grandmother Wila’s Flower Shoppe is located. I direct Alexandra around to where the delivery truck has backed up to the rear door of the shop.

“I know it may not seem like it, but I’m on your side, sweetness. If Rhett or Mateo become a problem, I have no issue setting them straight,” Alexandra says emphatically as she parks a short distance away.

I nod and smile softly at her. She returns the expression, even as her hazel eyes flash with something I can’t quite identify. I have to look away before I lose myself in the depths of her gaze, clearing my throat as I suppress the urge to lean across the console and kiss her cheek, or something else equally crazy. I slide out of the car and cross the parking lot, setting my shoulders.

seven

Lydia

Istepthroughtheback door of the shop where I’ve worked for the last four, almost five years, and my whole body instantly relaxes. The floral scent of the store, along with the familiar aromas of freshly turned earth and caramel-candy-apple, grounds me and helps center me in a way I haven’t felt since before the accident. The familiar classic rock radio station plays in the workroom, and my sky-blue apron hangs on its peg in the hall. I slip it over my head, not even bothering to tie it before stepping through the open doorway to the workroom.

“I asked you to keep track of that list, Gabby. We don’t have time to print another one!” Wila is saying loudly, bent over at the waist and looking under the main table.

“I had it just a few minutes ago!” Gabby’s voice comes from the open door of the walk-in cooler, pitched in a desperate whine.

I smile to myself. “Have you checked your back pocket, babe?” I ask with a little giggle.

Wila straightens at the sound of my voice, mouth agape as she stares with wide eyes. Her already dark skin looks a little darker, a product of spending the holiday weekend in the sun at a family reunion. Her silver hair is pulled back in its usual bun, but there are flyaways giving her a frazzled appearance. A triumphant shout sounds from the cooler, and I watch Gabby walk back out into the main room, holding a folded piece of paper aloft.

“You’d think I’d remember that, but—HOLY SHIT, babe! What are you doing here?” Gabby shrieks, dashing to close the distance between us.

I suck in a sharp breath as she squeezes me tight, my ribs protesting the most, but I don’t tell her to stop. I extricate my good arm and return the embrace just as fiercely. Gabby Fitzgerald has been my friend for nearly as long as I’ve lived in Everton, and the scent of candy apples that rolls off of her to surround me as I bury my face in her shoulder is like returning home.

“We told you we’ve got this,” Gabby says, her voice muffled by my hair.

“Says the bitch who can’t keep track of the order checklist,” I say with a watery laugh.

“What did the pack say when you told them you were coming back?” Wila asks, stepping up and putting a hand on my shoulder.

I pull away slightly and give her a sheepish grin. “Um, nothing. Alexandra drove me here, but the rest…”

Wila throws her head back and lets out a full belly laugh. “That’s my girl. Well, you’ve still got one good arm and two legs. Let’s get moving before we hit rush hour.”

I smile gratefully at the woman who has treated me better than any of my blood relatives ever have. Wila takes no shit from anyone, and while I know she cares, she won’t let me wallow or baby me. And it’s such a relief.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Lyds. When Rhett called and told us…”

I pull away and look at Gabby, finding her chocolate brown eyes lined with silver. I nod, understandingly. Gabby lost her parents in a car accident, so I can only imagine how awful it must have been to hear about mine.

“Like Gran said, I’ve still got three working limbs. And it won’t be long until I get my other one back,” I say with a little teasing shove.

“And it’s time to put your collective limbs back to work. Gabby, let Lydia keep track of the list. We don’t have time for your scatterbrain self to lose it again.”

Gabby and I share another smile before she passes me the list, and we get back to work. The routine of loading the truck and working a wedding works miracles on my nerves. My ribs aren’t happy with all the exercise, but I feel more like myself than I have in days.

The first message comes in as we’re pulling up to the venue. I slide my phone out of my pocket as I wait for Gabby to clear the passenger door, stomach sinking as I open the notification.

Rhett: Where are you?

I let out a silent, resigned sigh. I should have known it wouldn’t take long for Rhett to realize I wasn’t in bed. My first instinct is to apologize and submit, but I fight it down. It would only make Rhett think this was acceptable behavior. There’s a fine line between protective and possessive, and he’s toeing right up to it. Typing is slow with one hand, so I keep it brief.

Me: At work.

Rhett: I thought we talked about this. You’re still healing and need rest.

Me: I’m fine. Can’t talk right now, need to help with setup.

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