Page 80 of Wild Flower

“You were the one talking about monster erotica for half the ride,” I defend. “Not me.”

“Monster erotica, I can handle. But real life?” She points at me and an imaginary Finn and Becca. “Not so much.”

“It’s not that different than a normal relationship,” I defend. Except, it’s hotter and there are two people you have to disappoint in the end.

“Right,” Miranda rolls her eyes. “Love, honesty, and desire, huh?”

Well, definitely the desire part. But I don’t say that, I just nod slightly and let her believe what she wants about it. When I pull away from the curb, an unsettling feeling churns in my gut because Miranda’s stupid cliché is ricocheting around my head. I’m not ready for four-letter words. But honesty …

I saw the look Finn gave me when he mentioned Miranda was upset about being the last one to know the truth. Lies—even omissions—have a way of breaking things open, and in the worst ways possible. I can’t keep hiding the C-word from Becca without it becoming a thing. Because when she does find out—

It’ll be over.

Cancer kills everything.

I turn up a side road and head for the hills. Just lean into making her feel desired, Archer, and forget the rest. You don’t get that part, especially if you’re honest.

But my hand still finds my phone and my fingers click the screen till I find my sister’s number. It rings and rings and rings, and I start to wonder if Valeria’s given up on me after I hung up on her the last time.

When she picks up, I don’t even say hello. Instead, I ask about that doctor she’s been calling me about, and for his phone number. Having a future isn’t a four-letter word. But four-letter words seem to make having a future worth fighting for.

46

BECCA

Connor’s brother Ned is imposing. He’s straight out of a courtroom drama in a grey suit and sour frown. He’s six-foot-line-backer large and sitting next to me in the conference room at his office.

“Do your parents normally make you wait,” Ned asks, tapping his watch to point out we’re two minutes past the time this meeting was supposed to start.

I shake my head. “They’re usually very punctual.” I don’t add that it’s practically a religion in my mother’s house to be on time and make a good impression.Always present your best selfis her mantra. Though I don’t think she’d find two minutes an unreasonable infraction the way Ned seems to think it is. I’m glad he’s on my side.

A moment later, my parents walk past the glass windows of the conference room, led by Ned’s office manager Judy who’s an older woman with a warm smile.

“Remember, I do the talking,” Ned says and I politely nod, a fist balling up in my chest. I shouldn’t be nervous. This is just a conversation. And yet, I’m about to be pitted against my parents with a hot-shot lawyer at my side. I looked up Connor’s brother and his firm. He’s a shark. And still, I wish Finn and Archer were here. I know Ned’s got my back, but it feels like all the ugly parts of my family are about to be laid bare.

Judy opens the door and walks in with my parents. “May I present the Laurel’s,” she announces, and Ned stands up, rounding the table to greet them.

“Edwin Voss,” he says, extending a hand as his broad I’m-Greek-Titan-in-a-suit size literally towers over them. I’m not a lawyer or negotiator, but I honestly think that’s a tactic he’s using to assert dominance.

My mother doesn’t take his hand. She has her own tactics. Instead, she points at him with a little sass in her stance. “I know you,” she says sweetly. “Haven’t I seen you at the country club? Don’t you play golf with the Blackfords?”

“I do,” Ned admits, dropping his hand smoothly as if he never offered it. “Please take a seat, Mr. and Mrs. Laurel.”

“I’m always trying to get Becca to come to the club,” my mother continues, “but she just hates it. Maybe you can talk a little sense into her. Sometimes a mother is the last person a child wants to take advice from.”

“I don’t give legal advice on how to spend one’s personal time,” Ned replies dryly, walking to his seat. “Becca has provided me with your contract and there’s quite a lot to discuss.”

My mother scowls at me as she sits down, miffed that Ned is all business and her charms aren’t swaying him. She primps her hair that’s pinned away from her face, and pulls out the seat next to her for my balding father to sit, which he does like an obedient dog hoping for a treat.

“Mr. Voss,” my mother begins. “We were hoping to keep this a private matter.” Her eyes cut to me. “There’s really no need for a lawyer to be involved.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Ned says bluntly, making my mother flinch. He slides two copies of the contract across the table and my mother’s eyes widen at the amount of tabs sticking out the side of it. “There are several negotiation points to discuss.”

“She’s our daughter.” My mother’s lips tighten, not touching the contract in front of her. “This isn’t a complicated corporate merger. It’s a basic rental agreement. Becca is—”

“A business owner,” Ned interrupts. “And she’s entitled to rights and representation. And frankly, this contract is surprisingly predatory for someone trying to pull the family card. Please let me remind you that it doesn’t matter that my client is related to you, this is a business interaction between you and Birds of Paradise.”

I swallow hard as my mother’s eyes narrow in my direction. “If you can afford a fancy lawyer, Rebecca, you can afford to rent our land.”

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