Page 3 of Firefly Embers

I looked over the top of her head at where my brother and his new wife were sitting at the newlyweds’ table, not an inch of space between them.

Sleep threatened to overtake Charlie, my now niece, but Max kept her perched on his lap, her head resting on his shoulder, one arm wrapped around each of his girls, always the protector.

A sudden, hot wave of anger flared within me. Why did they get the happily ever after, and I get the bullet in the back?

“Wade…” Ray reached up and cupped my cheek, noticing where my eyes had wandered, and forced my gaze back to hers. The worry and concern reflected in her eyes were undeniable.

Great, the last thing I needed was the most beautiful fucking woman in the world pitying me.

“Wade, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” I snapped.

A scoff escaped her lips as she brought her hand to my chest, pulling me near, focusing my attention on the sensation of our bodies almost touching instead of the anger burning its way through me.

“And here I thought I was the girl in this relationship,” she huffed, a frustrated sigh puffing through her plush lips.

“Ain’t no relationship here, Sunshine,” I grit out between clenched teeth. The words felt wrong as they tumbled past my lips.

I didn’t have a single logical explanation for why I was acting like a dick toward Ray. She’d done nothing wrong. She had been nothing short of smotheringly supportive since the incident, and I was, some days, grateful to have her help. Even if I did a shitty job of showing it.

“You’re being a dick, Wade Daniels.”

“I’m being truthful.”

I could see the hurt that washed over her eyes, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. She didn’t need my baggage. There were so many men at this wedding whose focus never left her that she could have had her pick of them.

Hell, she could have her pick of the men of Firefly Cove. Ray was a catch. She was smart, sweet, strong, and she sure didn’t need to be hung up pining after my washed-up ass.

The hand that had been resting on my chest was once again on my face, this time gripping my chin between her thumb and index finger, demanding my undivided attention. Her grip was unwavering, and her eyes bore into mine, with a stern look of determination on her face.

“Listen here, you sulky motherfucker. I know what happened to you sucked.”

I jerked my chin from her grasp, a scoff escaping my lips. It more than sucked, but I would let her continue her clearly long overdue reprimand if it got her off my back for a night or two.

“Wade.” Her tone was gentler as she skated her fingers across my jaw, tiny pinpricks of electricity in their wake. “I’m sorry that life’s dealt you a shit hand lately. It’s not fair; that’s for damn sure. But you’re walking around this place like Stella is the one directly responsible for you getting⁠—”

I cut her off by gripping her wrist harshly and removing her touch from my skin.

Taking a step back and running my fingers through my hair, I scoffed. “Isn’t she, though? I wouldn’t have been there if she hadn’t gone off on some fucked-up vigilante mission because she couldn’t let your dad handle things like he’d asked us to.” The words burned as they left my lips, but Ray and I never shied away from speaking our truths to each other.

Well, most of them.

Feeling the anger bubbling up to the surface, and not wanting to make a scene, I stalked off, leaving Ray on the dance floor, a look of defeat marring her face, as I sulked to the bar. I slammed my hand down on the bar top, startling the bartender mixing drinks.

That’s what he gets for flirting with my woman.

My woman. Fuck.

Ray wasn’t my woman. She wasn’t anyone’s woman. She sure as hell wouldn’t want to be my woman now. I’d just pissed her off, bashed her best friend, and left her on the dance floor alone at a wedding. I’d no doubt hear about it tomorrow after she let me stew in my fuck up for a while.

“Bourbon, top-shelf, neat,” I gritted out to the pansy ass motherfucker behind the bar. He wouldn’t even stand a chance if Ray got her claws into him. She needed a man who could challenge her. She needed a man who would stand beside her as she took the world by storm, ready to battle anything in her way.

She needed someone stronger than me, that’s for sure.

The bartender slid a rocks glass in my direction, and I tossed a five-dollar bill into his tip jar.

Max and Stella had opted for an open bar, and I was going to take full advantage of the constant flow of liquor while I wasn’t paying for it.