“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 b
een 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.
“You have a husband?”
Navie’s shrill voice cut through my brain, agitating the headache I’d had for the past several hours and making it that much worse. After my unexpected brush-in with Noah, I’d quickly escaped the church, running like the hounds of hell were nipping at my feet. Later on, as we all attended the graveside service, I’d been unable to keep myself from looking through the mass of people for those honey eyes. The disappointment I felt in not seeing them, and my weakness for looking in the first place, made me angry. With him and myself.
Afterwards, we headed back to my grandmother’s house where my friends helped lay out a spread of food for all the people who wanted to spend a little more time reminiscing about Grammy. I spent hours giving fake smiles and handshakes to everyone who came up to me offering condolences. My cheeks felt bruised and I worried my hand was going to fall off, but the last townsperson had finally left just minutes before, and all I could think about was taking a nice long bath. I needed one like no body’s business after receiving a bone-crushing hug from Old Lady Wilson. I desperately needed to wash off the Bengay and chewing tobacco smell that had seeped into my hair and clothes.
“Ex-husband,” I responded, putting extra emphasis on the ex.
“I can’t believe you were married.” Pepper stared at me with wide eyes. “That’s crazy. You’re only, what, twenty-three?”
“Twenty-four,” I answered. “And I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”
“I can see it,” Griffin chimed in, leaning back in his chair and kicking his feet up on Grammy’s scarred wooden dining room table that we were all congregating round. “You’re hot. I’ve always wondered why the hell you were single. Figured you were just getting some action on the side and wasn’t one to talk about it.”
“It should be illegal for you to talk. You shouldn’t be allowed to say words,” Pepper clipped, smacking him in the back of the head.
Navie continued on like the two of them going at it didn’t faze her in the slightest. “How long have you been divorced?”
I heaved out a heavy sigh and dropped my head into my hands, my elbows resting on the table. “Five years.”
“Oh my God,” she gasped, no doubt doing the math in her head. “So you were only—”
I interrupted. “Eighteen. I was eighteen when I got married and nineteen, already living in New York by the time it was finalized. And I’ll say again, I do not want to talk about this.” I turned my head and peeked through the doorway of the kitchen, looking to make sure Ethan wasn’t anywhere in hearing distance. Lowering my voice, I gave my attention back to my friends. “Look, Ethan doesn’t know the full extent of what happened between Noah and me, okay? And it’s not really a time in my life I’d like to think about. I’ll tell you the whole story, I promise, just… not today, all right? I can’t do it today.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Navie replied.
“It’s okay. I’m just exhausted. It’s been a rough week.” I smiled weakly, knowing it didn’t come close to reaching my eyes. “All I want to do is relax in a nice, hot tub and soak the past seven days away, but I still need to clean up all this mess.” I looked around the kitchen, every available surface covered in casserole dishes filled with food, brought over by Grammy’s friends and neighbors. It was going to be impossible to eat all of that food, even with a growing teenage boy in the house.
“Babe,” Pepper spoke up, pulling my attention away from the mess in the kitchen. “Go relax. We’ll take care of this. You don’t need to worry about anything else, okay?”
“Hey!” Griffin shouted. “I didn’t agree to that shit!”
“I swear to God, asshole, I’m going to punch you right in the nuts if you don’t stop talking,” Pepper warned.
Not wanting Pepper to get in trouble for assaulting a police officer, I stood on a laugh. “Thanks, honey. I appreciate that.”
She and Navie stood and got busy. “No problem, sweetie, we got this. When we’re done, we’ll head back to the hotel and give you and Ethan some quiet.”
I walked around the kitchen giving out hugs and goodbyes with the promise of everyone meeting back there in the morning for breakfast before they had to head to the airport. The large, claw foot tub in my grandmother’s bathroom was calling my name.
I had hoped for relaxation, a break from the outside world as I soaked in the warm, soothing water. Instead, once all the tension melted from my body, I fell asleep in the tub and dreamed of the first time I ever laid eyes on Noah.
I was sixteen years old the first time I spoke to Noah Murphy. He was the new boy in town, all mysterious and hot. Despite the fact I didn’t know him whatsoever, I felt a kinship with him, having been the new kid in Pembrooke just three years earlier whe
n Ethan and I had moved in with Grammy after our parents died.
He was taller than most of the boys my age, something I loved considering I stood at the same height, if not taller, than most of them myself. His hair was a little too long, but it still managed to look good on him, and I couldn’t help but want to run my fingers through it whenever I watched him brush it off his forehead in the fifth period Geometry class we shared together. His face was sharper, more defined than most of the sixteen-year-old, baby-faced boys in our class. But despite the chiseled jaw and perfect cheekbones, it was his eyes that I was the most drawn to. They were just a little darker than pure honey, yet not quite as dark as the whiskey Grammy had in her liquor cabinet at home. For any teenage girl with raging hormones, he was the epitome of gorgeous. The girls lost their minds over him, and I was no exception.
I was standing at my locker at school when he appeared at the locker beside mine, like he materialized out of hot guy thin air or something.
“Hey.”
Turning in his direction I saw those unique eyes pointing directly at me. Glancing over my shoulder, I looked to see if he was speaking to someone behind me. I couldn’t help it, Noah had been at our school for a little over a week and, until that very moment, I was certain he didn’t know I even existed.
“Uh… hi?”
The moment the word came out in the form of a question I wanted to smack myself in the face. Two words. We had only shared two flipping words and already I sounded like an idiot.
One corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin and my entire face flushed bright red. “You’re Harlow, right?”
I froze solid at the sound of Noah Murphy saying my name. Noah-flipping-Murphy knew my name!!! He cleared his throat, lifting one of his dark eyebrows when I spent too long doing my impersonation of a statue in the middle of the hallway.
Wildflower (Colors #4) Page 2
