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Authors: Jessica Prince

Wildflower (Colors #4) (3 page)

BOOK: Wildflower (Colors #4)
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Had I really been gone so long I missed my little brother beginning his transformation from boy to man? That thought sent a sharp, stabbing pain of guilt rushing through me. I had been a horrible sister to him. Abandoning him when he needed me because I’d been too wrapped up in my own selfishness to think about anything or anyone but myself.

I squeezed his hand in return, needing the contact to keep me centered.

“This is weird, right?” he asked quietly, his eyes scanning the pews as the minister performing my grandmother’s eulogy droned on and on in the dullest monotone voice I’d ever heard. How the people packed in the church hadn’t fallen asleep due to sheer boredom was beyond me. What had Grammy been thinking, picking this guy to speak on her behalf at her own funeral?

Knowing my grandmother as well as I did, I had no doubt she was looking down on each and every one of us, laughing her ass off at our misery. She always said she had to get her kicks wherever she could.

God, I missed her.

“What’s weird, bud?”

“It’s just... Grammy wasn’t even religious, really.” His eyes darted around the open area cautiously, like he was worried about being overheard and struck by lightning or something. “What’d she want this shit for anyway?”

“First of all,” I whispered, “she didn’t do this for
her
.” I gave a tiny wave in order to encompass the whole room. “She did this for everyone in town because they all loved her and she knew they’d want to pay their respects. And secondly, say ‘shit’ again and I’ll knock the holy hell out of you.” He let out a sound that was a combination of a snort and a laugh as he rolled his eyes. So I did what any reasonable older sister would do. I grabbed the skin just under his arm pit and twisted. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at the high-pitched screech that escaped his throat, echoing around the stone walls of the church and drawing attention our way.

“You suck,” he grumbled under his breath as we both slouched low in our seats.

It might have been inappropriate behavior for a funeral… no, scratch that, it was
totally
inappropriate behavior for a funeral, but Grammy knew me and Ethan better than anyone. Hell, she’d been the one to raise us when our parents died. She wouldn’t expect anything less. She would want us to laugh, not mourn. She’d want us to speak about the good times, not wallow in the fact that she was no longer around.

I had only been back in Wyoming for a week, and four of those days were spent at her side, hovering over her hospital bed, as she held on just long enough to impart as much wisdom as she could on me before she left this world. When I saw my grandmother on my first day back, the woman who had a large hand in helping me discover who I was, she was so frail and sick. I was almost scared to touch her. Then she opened her mouth and the tough badass I knew her to be reared its head.

There was laughter. There were tears. There were emotional embraces. And the last words from the wisest woman I’d ever known were to make me promise to be there for Ethan. So while I was sad at losing her, my heart felt lighter knowing that I was lucky enough to have had her in my life for as long as I did. Even if we were on different coasts for the past several years. She’d want me and Ethan to be happy no matter what, and the two of us were determined to give her that. No matter how hard feeling happy might be.

“So Old Lady Wilson still smells like Bengay, huh?” I asked, earning a low, quiet chuckle from my brother that warmed me from the inside out.

“Yeah. And she’s still stuffing chewing tobacco in her lip thinking no one notices. Swear to God, Low-Low, the woman’s a fossil. I bet she’s not even human. She’s like a robot or something.”

I covered my mouth on a giggle and linked my arm through my little, yet almost as big as me, brother and rested my head on his shoulder. “Missed you, shrimp.”

“Missed you too.” He remained quiet for several seconds and I thought he was concentrating on the end—thank God—of the minister’s eulogy. That was, until he spoke again. “I’m glad you’re home, Low-Low.”

I sucked in a deep breath, letting out a “yeah,” on the exhale, not quite sure if I felt the same or not.

My head ached, my eyes burned from crying, and I was pretty sure my ass was black and blue from that damned wooden pew. But the service was over.
Finally
. I didn’t think I could have handled it much longer, and not just because of the physical discomfort. Emotionally, I was wrecked. It seemed everyone from our small town wanted to say some words in honor of the late Lucille Prewitt. I knew she touched lives, but had no clue just how damn many.

After an hour of heartfelt words, condolences, and funny stories, I’d maxed out of just how water-resistant my mascara was. And you could bet your ass I would be writing a well-worded letter to Cover Girl the moment I got a chance, voicing my dissatisfaction in their product.

Who’d have thought that waterproof mascara could burn even worse than regular mascara when it got in your eyes after crying gallons of tears? Believe me when I say, that shit is painful.

Standing from my seat, I linked arms with Ethan and began moving toward the aisle.

“How you doing, babe?” I sucked in a breath and closed my eyes as Navie wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug.

Thank God for best friends. I met Navie my very first day of college where we discovered we’d be rooming together. We hit it off instantly and had been like sisters ever since.

After Grammy had passed, I’d made an emotional phone call to Navie. I barely got the words out before she declared that she and Rowan would be on the next plane to Jackson Hole. And that’s just what she’d done. I felt horrible, knowing my heartbroken phone call had derailed Rowan’s proposal plans by a few more days, but I’d had no one else to call. And I needed my best friend.

What I hadn’t expected was for her to show up with, not only her man, but also our mutual friend, Pepper and Rowan’s cousin, Griffin. The last one threw me for a loop. I’d gotten pretty tight with Pepper since Navie met her when she began working as Rowan’s personal assistant. And once that working relationship imploded because they couldn’t keep from ripping their clothes off around each other, I’d gotten to know Griffin a little when we’d all go out as a group.

But other than knowing that he got off, in a big way, on pushing every one of Pepper’s buttons, the only thing I really knew about the dude was that he’d dip his wick in anything single, hot, and willing. It was obvious watching the two of them that there was some hardcore history there. Navie and I had speculated for months on what had gone down between the two of them, and we were both of the opinion that it was the worst case of sexual tension we’d ever seen. I could only guess that Pepper being in Wyoming was the reason Griff was there.

“I’m doing okay,” I answered, soaking up the warmth of her embrace before she stepped back to make room for Rowan, Griffin, and Pepper to have their turns.

Navie reached up and brushed my brother’s dark hair

that desperately needed a cut

from his forehead. “And what about you, sweetie? You okay?” Watching her try to baby my brother was comical. The boy had a good four inches on her. It was also hilarious how just the sight of Navie and Pepper turned him into a raging hormonal idiot. By his reaction every time they were within a few feet of him, you’d think he never saw an attractive woman before.

“Uh…” He flushed bright red as his eyes continued bounding to her modest, yet still slightly visible cleavage.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she cooed, pulling him down into a tight hug. He started hesitantly, but once his arms wrapped all the way around her, his frame slumped in relaxation and he looked at me over her shoulder with a shit-eating grin on his ecstatic teenage boy face. I had to stifle my laughter when I caught Rowan giving him the “I got my eyes on you” double finger point.

A feeling of contentment washed over me as I looked around my circle of friends, all there to support me and my brother when we needed it. I sucked in a calming breath, a tiny smile tilting the side of my lips up as I thought about how lucky I was to have had such a wonderful grandmother, a brother that I adored, and loyal friends who all loved me.

Then it all came crashing down around me with one word spoken in a deep, rich voice that sent a chill across my skin.

“Wildflower.”

My lungs collapsed as all the air escaped in a whoosh. I felt all the blood draining from my face as I slowly turned around and faced the man I hadn’t seen in over five years. The guy that broke my heart and shattered my childish fairytale fantasies.

God, he still looked good. No, he looked even
better
than I remembered. Which was bullshit, because I always swore if I ever saw him again, I’d look so fine he’d swallow his damn tongue. My fucking luck I had to run into him at a funeral where I’d been ugly crying for the last hour, had swollen eyes from the bullshit waterproof mascara, and was splotchy-faced like a mother.

I wanted to kick Karma’s ass right then.

“Noah.” My voice came out soft and breathy—completely unintentional. After walking away from him so long ago, I’d convinced myself that if I ever got unlucky enough to stumble upon him again in my lifetime, he wouldn’t have any effect on me.

I was totally wrong.

Just staring into those familiar light brown eyes felt like I’d been thrust back into the past. Hearing him call me wildflower in that voice I knew so well, though it had deepened with age, was like a knife through the heart. Staring at his gorgeous face in the middle of a church during my grandmother’s funeral only exacerbated my pain.

“W-what are you doing here? How did you…?” I trailed off, having trouble forming words thanks to my muddled brain.

“I wanted to pay my respects,” he answered, and I didn’t miss the pain mixed with sympathy that flashed in his eyes. He loved Grammy. Back when we were together, he used to spend hours sitting out on the front porch with her, each of them lazily rocking in her old, creaky rocking chairs, talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. Other than Ethan, he understood my pain better than anyone. It made sense that he would be hurting from the loss of her as well. “God,” he breathed as his eyes scanned me from top to toe, and I felt that look over every inch of my body. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again, wildflower. I’ve missed you like crazy.”

My chest seized painfully at his admission. An old ache I’d let go of years ago took hold once again and threated to drag me down. I opened my mouth

to say what, I didn’t have a clue

but luckily Ethan cut in before things grew even more awkward.

“Hey Coach Murphy,” Ethan spoke uncertainly from behind me.

I turned back to my brother, my brows knit in confusion. “Coach?”

“Varsity football,” Noah answered for Ethan. “It’s my second year with the high school.”

I didn’t understand. Before I left, Noah had a full ride to Ohio State to play football. It had always been his dream. He spent his whole life talking about going pro. What was he doing coaching a small town high school football team? “But I thought…”

“A lot of things changed after you left.” His words settled in my stomach, leaving me feeling somewhat queasy, and as he continued talking, that sick feeling just continued to grow. “I didn’t like myself very much back then. I had to take a step back and figure out what was important.”

I didn’t want to know what was important to him. I didn’t want to care. But that niggling of curiosity in the back of my mind wouldn’t stop poking at me. What was important? What had changed in the several years that led him from the path he had been so determined to take?

“Harlow,” Navie spoke over my shoulder. “Who’s your friend?”

My answer came instantly and abruptly. “He’s not my friend.”

Silence encompassed our small circle and I could feel the tension building around us. “Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?” Rowan asked in a hushed voice.

There was no point in trying to keep it a secret from my friends any longer. The cat was already out of the bag.

With my eyes still glued on Noah’s handsome face, I told my friends something I knew they never expected to hear from me.

“He’s my ex-husband.”

And with that bombshell, I ran. Just like the eighteen-year old-girl that had her entire world ripped apart all those years ago. I already had enough heartache and drama in the past week to last a lifetime. I couldn’t handle any more. And when I felt the walls beginning to close in on me, I turned on my heels and headed for the doors.

BOOK: Wildflower (Colors #4)
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