The Confidence of Wildflowers (Wildflower Duet, #1)

by Micalea Smeltzer

I’ve always liked to watch other people—not in a Peeping Tom sort of way—and think about their lives, who they might love, what they might be worried about. So many people, so many intersecting lives, and yet we all pass by without a thought for each other.

“Oh, and Thayer?” I look over my shoulder at the man that’s too handsome for his own good. “Yes?” “Don’t threaten my boyfriend.”

“Nobody is perfect,” I agree, nodding at my own words. “But that doesn't mean that we shouldn't be aware of our flaws. If we're not mindful of them, then we can't improve on them.”

“Where did you go?” He asks softly. “Just lost in my thoughts.” I force a smile, but I know there's a shadow in my eyes. And from the way he looks at me, I know he sees it too. Maybe one day, I think to myself. I'll tell him. Someone else in this world should hear my truth.

Despite my fears and reservations of our longevity, I will miss Caleb so much. He has a piece of my heart I know I’ll never ever get back.

Caleb has been my rock the past few years, the boy who healed the heart of a broken girl. I’ll always love him, no matter where the future takes us.

He looks at me like I’m something, precious, fragile, a treasure that’s all his. I cuddle closer to his side and close my eyes. I don’t want to break your heart.

I open the door and the smile that overtakes me when I see Thayer standing there is downright criminal. Good, eighteen-year-old girls, do not smile at their thirty-one year old divorced neighbor like that.

Our eyes meet, his gaze heated with desire. I’m young, but I’m not stupid. He wants me.

“What happened?” His eyes narrow upon me, voice gruff. “Did someone hurt you? I swear to God if it was your preppy pretty-boy boyfriend I’ll—” “He hurt me, but not like you think,” I confirm, walking away from him. “What did he do?” He growls behind me. “It’s none of your business, Thayer.” “You’re sobbing on the public street, so that makes it my business.”

“Hey.” He grabs my arm, his hold gentle enough for me to pull out of, but I don’t bother. “What?” I look up at him, chin lifted defiantly. “Tell me what’s wrong.” “Give me one good reason why,” I argue. I know my face has to be red and splotchy from crying, but I make no move to hide myself. “Because I care about you.”

“Thank you,” I say for what feels like the millionth time since I climbed in his truck. He grunts. I think it’s either another you’re welcome or stop thanking me. I’m not versed in caveman speak.

“You got one bed with your boyfriend?” “Yes.” I open my overnight bag on the floor. “He’s my boyfriend.” His eyes narrow upon me and I roll mine back. “Yes, Thayer, I planned on fucking my boyfriend tonight, but he bailed.” His face reddens. “Don’t … don’t say that again.” I laugh, shaking my head. “Men are so weird. Obsessed with sex, but God forbid a woman be open about it.” He wets his lips. “That’s not … just … fuck.”

Thayer watches me with heated brown eyes, desire evident in the way he looks at me. He scans me from head to toe and my stomach rolls over. Caleb has never looked at me like this. Like I’m something precious, a treasure meant to be worshipped.

“Thayer,” I continue, “this had to cost thousands.” “It doesn’t matter what it cost. I want you to be happy.” His forehead creases at this admission, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“Salem?” “Yes?” I arch a brow, curious. “Just say thank you.” I smile up at him, at this man who I realize has become my friend. “Thank you.” He dips his chin. “You’re welcome.”

Thayer Holmes might not realize how special he is, but I know.

“I don’t do things I don’t want to, Salem. I’m a selfish man.” Man. He lays that word between us like a grenade, reminding me gently that while we might be lying in the same bed, he’s thirty-one and I’m eighteen.

“Wildflowers are strong. Resilient. They can grow under most conditions. I want to be like that.” I let my hair down, his eyes watching my movements. “I want to have the confidence of wildflowers—to never give up, to flourish, and thrive.”

“Eat your food,” he says in a gruff voice, and I swear there’s pink in his cheeks. I let him take another bite of food before I ask, “Are we not going to talk about the fact that I orgasmed on your leg?” He chokes, pieces of egg flying out of his mouth. “Fuck, Salem. Warn a guy before you say something like that.”

“Hey.” The tip of his finger lifts my chin. “Don’t hide from me. Ever. I see you. I want to see you. All of you.”

I think about my therapist, things she has said about coping with trauma, and I let myself feel. Let myself mourn for the little girl who had to be so strong when she should’ve only had to be a kid.

His face has darkened. “When you said what you did in your sleep…” He rubs his jaw. “Fuck, if he wasn’t already dead, I would’ve killed him myself.” I give a weak laugh. “He wouldn’t be worth going to jail.” Those warm brown eyes stare me down, looking, searching. I don’t know what for, but finally he says, “But you are.” “Huh?” “You’re worth it, Salem.”

I wanted to look cute, but not like I’m trying to seduce him. Which I’m not. That would be bad. A good kind of bad, but bad nonetheless.

The door opens and Thayer grins, eyes crinkling at the corners. I think he smiles before he means to, because he clears his throat and quickly sobers.

You’re at a different part of your life than I am mine.” “So, what?” I retort. “That automatically means I don’t know what I want?”

We are chaos. Unrestrained passion igniting with a single spark. I moan, grinding myself against him. Thayer. Thayer. Thayer. His name is a chant in my mind. He fills all my senses. My thoughts, too. He’s everywhere and I don’t want him to ever leave.

“I’m young, I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.” I know I have more growing up to do. More maturing. But right now, I know myself. I know how I feel about Thayer. I know I want this. And I know I won’t regret it. “I want you,” I tell him. “Right now, that’s what I want. I’m not asking you to put a ring on my finger. Just to fuck me.” With a growl I find myself flat on my back on the couch with him fitted between my legs. He wraps his hands around my wrists, trapping them above my head. “You want me to fuck you, Sunshine?” Sunshine. He’s never called me that before. It’s officially the best nickname I’ve ever heard.

“I shouldn’t want you.” His chocolate-colored eyes move to mine. “But I do.” “I shouldn’t want you,” I echo, biting my lip so I won’t move my hips. “But I do.”

“I need you.” “Tell me where you need me.” He places a soft, barely there kiss on my pubic bone above the band of my panties. “Your mouth,” I pant, my hips rising up on their own. “I want it on my pussy.” His eyes flash hot and molten. “Fuck, say it again.”

“Need to be in you.” He sounds like he’s aching with the same need I am. He shoves his jeans down and his boxer-briefs with them. Thayer Holmes is naked in front of me. I don’t look away. I take in every inch of him. Every. Long. Perfect. Inch.

“I like that.” “What?” He pants, clearly struggling for control. “That I can’t control myself?” “No.” I shake my head, biting my lip. His eyes zero in on my breasts, watching the way they move when I do. “That you want me so bad.” “I’ve wanted you for way longer than I should’ve.”

“Fucking hell, Salem,” he curses, exhaling heavily. “Am I too tight?” I squeak, because my God, he’s stretching me. He shakes his head, brown hair falling over his forehead. I reach up, brushing it away so I can see his eyes. I need to see them. He can’t hide from me that way. “No,” he rocks slowly out and back in, “it’s just…” His fingers tighten around my hips, angling me up to meet his thrusts. “You feel like mine.”

We’ve never said that one special word to each other. Love. But that’s what he does. He doesn’t fuck me like I asked. Thayer makes love to me. Mind. Body. Soul.

I know, in this moment, in this space between us, I’ve been irrevocably changed. I am his. He is mine. Nothing, not time, distance, nor the complete obliteration of our world can change that.

I’m only wearing Thayer’s t-shirt, completely naked beneath it. Every so often he lifts it to knead my breasts, suck my nipples, or simply to smack my ass. Post sex Thayer is also now one of my favorite things. He’s in a good mood, a weight that’s normally on his shoulders gone for the moment. He smiles, laughing and joking with me. He seems younger somehow.

He reaches over, wrapping his big hand around my thigh. “What are you—” He pulls me against his side and presses a kiss to my lips. “I wanted you closer.” He skims his nose along my cheek to the shell of my ear. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

“Well, you might not be finished with me, but I’m not finished with this pizza. Someone made me burn a lot of calories.” He chuckles. “Have your fill.” “And then?” “And then I’ll have my fill of you.”

Before Thayer came along, I thought what I have with Caleb was normal, how relationships are, how love feels. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. Caleb has never made my heart race the way Thayer does.

“You’re a good dad, Thayer.” I feel like he needs to hear that. “Thanks.” I let out a small squeak when his hand snakes down to take mine. I love the feel of his large, rough hand encasing mine. I look down at them and back up at him. “Is this okay?” “Is it okay with you?” I nod. “Then it’s okay.”

Thayer Holmes has branded himself on me. And I know, without a doubt, that whatever this is, whatever we become, if we grow and flourish like the wildflowers behind our houses, or crash and burn, it won’t matter because when I’m old and gray, lying in bed thinking about my life, he’ll be the best part.

A hand presses against my lower waist and I gasp, spinning around to face Thayer. “Sorry, I needed a drink.” He acts innocent as his hand sweeps over my ass before opening the fridge. “You prefer the cans,” he notes, nodding at the one clutched in my hand. “Yeah, I think it tastes better.” “You should’ve said something. I would’ve bought those instead of bottles.” I lift my shoulders. “It’s not that big of a deal.” “Still, I want to get you what you like.”

“Dinner smells amazing.” He lowers his head, burying his face into my neck. “But you smell heavenly.”

He turns the pumpkin around to show me the Sanderson Sisters and I know he only did this for me. I can’t help but think of that night. In his arms. Him above me. Moving inside me.

I feel his warm, calming presence before he steps up behind me. I find myself sinking into him, feeling grounded in his presence. How is it possible that one person, someone I’ve only known a few months, can make me feel this way?

“Lucky for you, there’s only one Matthews woman on my mind.” “That so?” I echo his words. “Mhmm.”

He glances over his shoulder, making sure we’re still alone, and then presses a quick kiss to my lips. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m all yours.”

“Thayer,” I pant. He wraps a hand around my neck. I moan, surprised at how much I like his hand there. “Do you want me to fuck you against the wall, Salem?” God, yes. “Yes.” “Good.”

“I should’ve talked to you about this before, but…” I sit up, a bit worried where he’s going with this. “But?” “Look, with your past, I don’t know your triggers or anything like that, so you have to be open with me if I do something you don’t like or if there’s a position that bothers you or just fucking anything, Salem.”

We’re not going to the gym, though.” “We’re not?” He shakes his head. “Nope.” I narrow my eyes. “Listen, sex is great and all, but that’s not the workout I’m looking for right now.” He huffs, his breath fogging the chilly air. “I should fuck you just for using that sassy tone with me, but sex wasn’t what I was referring to, smart ass.”