Where The Ice Gives Way (Charlotte and Blake) novel Chapter 173

Chapter 173 Theo Loves Sunflowers

Theo

I wanted to take that photo down so many times over the years. But hearing Emily laugh because of it now means I will probably superglue the frame to the wall myself and make sure it stays there forever.

“He was adorable,” Emily says shyly as Dad walks past with a megawatt grin.

“Was?” I scoff, crossing my arms. “I’m still just as adorable.”

Emily’s cheeks turn pink, and Dad, because he has apparently decided to ruin my life and bless it at the same time, calls from the kitchen, “Come set the

table for me, Theo.”

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I take in Emily’s blush for one more second before I lead her through to the kitchen. She stands by the counter while I grab plates from the cupboard and Dad starts cutting into the shepherd’s pie. I take the plates and cutlery over to the table, then turn to pull out a chair for her. That’s when I notice she hasn’t moved. She is still standing by the counter, one hand lifted toward the bunch of sunflowers Dad brought down from my room. Shit. That’s embarrassing. How the hell do I explain that?

She takes off her gloves and runs a finger along the edge of a yellow petal. I stop beside her and scratch the back of my neck, trying to come up with an excuse for why two men have fresh flowers in the house. Before I can say anything, she looks up at me. “You like sunflowers?”

Dad does not even hesitate. “Theo loves sunflowers.” He knocks his shoulder into mine as he passes, then calls over his shoulder, “You should see his room.”

“Dad,” I hiss. Please shut the fuck up. He only laughs as Emily tilts her head at me, eyes soft and curious, waiting.

“Yeah, um.” I rub the back of my neck again. “They smell nice.”

Her smile grows, and I wonder if she even realises she smells like them. Light and sweet, with something grassy underneath and this warm honey note that keeps pulling at every part of me. “I love sunflowers,” she says quietly. “We/used to have a patch out the front of our house.”

She keeps touching the petals as she speaks, telling me how tall they grew against the fence, and how she watered them after school. Her voice gets smaller near the end, tapering off before the story is finished. Something happened to them. I know it from the way her hand goes still and her wolf pulls quiet behind her eyes. We will find who hurt her flowers and kill them. Yelen declares. Yeah, I think we will.

“I’d love to have some here,” she says after a moment, forcing a small smile, “but with all this cold weather, they just wouldn’t survive.”

“They seem to thrive inside,” I say, and her eyes brighten.

“Oh yes, they do wonderful indoors with at least six hours of sun, but I simply don’t have the space for that.” She looks at the flowers again. “Maybe one

day.”

She says it lightly as she sits at the table and takes the first bite of pie, but I’m already gone–a greenhouse. Surely I could build a greenhouse. I can

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puck into a net. I can build a bloody greenhouse.

“This is really good,” Emily says to Dad, and he smiles as he sits across from her.

“It was Theo’s mother’s recipe. It’s not as good as she would have made it, but I try to do it justice.”

I swear someone needs to teach this man some social skills. Talking about Mumm is not exactly the smooth, romantic dinner dimosphere I had been hoping

10:34 am PPPM.

Chapter 173 Theo Loves Sunflowers

for. Emily–looks down at her plate, thoughtful and gentle. “I’m sorry,” she says softly.

That seems to be her default setting polite, careful, always trying to be kind.

“Mum was human,” I tell her. “She… swallow and push the words out before they can stick. “She got sick a few years ago.”

“Oh, Theo.” Her mouth drops, and then her hand reaches across the table, and her fingers rest over mine. “I’m so sorry.”

Yelen purrs. The bastard actually purrs.

Warmth spreads from her hand into mine, and the mate bond flickers with those soft, aching tingles I’ve been craving since the first time I saw her. I go completely still because I don’t want to move and scare her away, but Dad clears his throat. Then Emily notices what she’s done and yanks her hand back so fast my chest aches with the loss of it. I shoot Dad a look sharp enough to peel paint, but he only smiles, knowing and gentle, then looks at Emily.

“She would have liked you,” he says.

Emily looks down at her plate again, but her shoulders ease, just a little, and a blush spreads across her cheeks again. Under the table, my hand still tingles

where hers had been.

Dad continues to talk, telling Emily about the time Blake and I tried to build a snow fort between the two houses and declared it neutral territory, only for this kid down the road to invade it with a sled and absolutely no respect for international borders. Emily smiles into her fork and laughs when Dad tells her I once tried to charge tolls at the back gate using bottle caps as currency.

“I was an entrepreneur,” I say.

“You were ripping people off,” Dad says.

She finishes most of what Dad gives her, and when she puts her fork down, Dad/stands and starts stacking plates while saying, “I’ll pack some leftovers for tomorrow’s drive. Mara will pack too much, obviously, but shepherd’s pie travels well if you’re prepared to eat it cold.”

Emily giggles as she stands. “I think I can manage. Thank you for dinner.“,

I want to say something clever. Something charming. Something that will sweep her off her feet. What comes out is, “I can walk you back.”

Dad turns at the sink, drying his hands on a towel. “Good idea. Early start tomorrow.”

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