A Vine Mess (Love on the Vine #4)

13. Ella

That night, the Todd family invited me and Liam to their campsite for dinner. The people we were meeting was slowly becoming my favorite part of the trip—Gertie and Corm feeding me pot brownies notwithstanding. But as I watched Jon and Laura with their daughters, and as those five little girls swirled around us all evening, making their demands, laughing at the silliest things, and having conversations in a language only they understood, I realized how deeply I missed my own family.

It had been years since I spent any meaningful time away from my sisters, parents, and Apple Blossom Bay. As much as I groused about the busybody townsfolk, I knew what a rarity it was to be part of a community that cared so much. I had a large blood family, but I had an even bigger found family, and I was grateful for that. People who took care of us when we were down on our luck, who checked in when tragedy struck, who simply said hello when you walked down the street.

I’d taken those things for granted the past few years, when I was so wrapped up in keeping Alfie happy that I stopped focusing on my own happiness. I found reasons to be irritated by my neighbors’ care and concern instead of accepting it for the gift it was.

And my sisters and parents—god, I couldn’t survive without them. A long time ago, my sisters and I had developed the emergency text system. Whenever one of us sent “SOS” to the group chat, we dropped everything and came running. They were there for me in ways no one else had ever been or likely ever could be.

Fuck, I missed them.

So I excused myself early and headed back to our cabin, the phone ringing with an outgoing FaceTime call in the group chat before I’d fully settled on my bed.

“Ellaaaaaaaaaa,” Delia shouted when she answered, her grinning face instantly soothing my melancholy. “We miss you.”

“Fuck, I miss you guys too,” I sighed. “That’s why I called.”

Delia turned the phone slightly so I could see Owen in bed next to her, shirtless with a book propped on his chest. He was far away, the screen too small, but the color of that cover was unmistakable—a bright, flaming orange.

“He’s been reading ACOTAR ,” Delia supplied, confirming it for me a moment later. “He’s all the way up to Silver Flames , and I’m just waiting for him to get to the dining room scene so we can reenact it.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and I barked out a laugh just as Amara and Chloe’s faces popped up on the screen simultaneously, followed closely by Brie.

“What are we laughing at?” Chloe asked. Aleah rested on her chest, her little lips parted and cheeks squished up as she dozed.

“Apparently, Owen is reading ACOTAR ,” I told them.

My younger sister fanned herself. “That dining room scene gets me every time.”

“Exactly!” Delia exclaimed proudly.

Amara, as the only one of my sisters to not have read the series, groaned, albeit good-naturedly. And before we could dive deep into a bookish discussion, she promptly changed the subject.

“Sooooo, El. Tell us how it’s going!”

“Seriously,” Delia said. “We haven’t heard from you in days.”

“I literally texted the group chat like an hour ago.”

“It’s not the same as face-to-face,” she pouted.

“We’re hardly face-to-face now,” I pointed out.

“Whatever,” my middle sister said with a wave of her hand. “Tell us everything .”

I chewed on my bottom lip, debating exactly how much I should share. I’d been intentionally keeping my status messages vague, mostly because I wasn’t sure what the fuck I was doing anymore.

But if anyone could help me figure it out, it would be them.

“I think I like him,” I blurted.

Two of them snorted, though I couldn’t be sure which two, and Chloe held up her free hand, saying, “What’s not to like?”

“No, I mean like…” I trailed off, unsure how to phrase it.

“You want to fuck him.”

I rolled my eyes but huffed out a laugh. Leave it to Delia to cut right to the chase.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Badly. But that’s not all.”

“ Oh ,” Amara said in realization. “You actually like him.”

“That’s what I just said.”

“So what’s the problem?” Brie asked .

And that was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? I didn’t actually know what the problem was. Was it that I felt it was too soon after the end of such a long relationship to move on? No, it couldn’t be that. While I still had some things to work through personally as far as the scars Alfie left on me were concerned, I’d emotionally moved on. I’d let go of the embarrassment that I’d given him so much time.

Without a doubt, it had nothing to do with concern that he didn’t feel the same. He’d been showing me for literal years , although not overtly, that he was into me. And he hadn’t minced words in Sioux Falls.

That left only one thing.

“What if it doesn’t work out?” I whispered.

Through the phone, even from hundreds of miles apart, I could feel my sisters softening toward me.

“But El…” Delia said. “What if it does ?”

It really should’ve been that simple.

“Start at the beginning,” Chloe said. “Tell us exactly what has happened so far.”

So I did. I walked them through the trip to the UP, about kayaking and the fresh fish and watching the sunset together. I told them about the banter and suggestive comments, about how he’d become distant that evening, and the whole next day he was practically mute, not stringing more than a handful of words together every time he spoke to me.

“The mood swings are giving me whiplash,” I admitted.

He’d been better since we crossed into South Dakota—basically since that impromptu stop in Sioux Falls, when he’d admitted his feelings. Unburdening himself had seemingly done wonders for his attitude.

“Maybe he’s PMSing,” Delia supplied.

From the background, I heard Owen say, “Men don’t PMS, Whiskey.”

“The fuck they don’t,” she said to her boyfriend. “You’re a moody bastard at least one week a month.”

He rumbled something in response, too low for us to hear, and whatever it was had Delia tipping her head back and cackling maniacally.

“It’s honestly a wonder I put up with you,” Owen groused.

“You love me,” Delia told him, then returned her attention to us.

God, I wanted what they had—what all of my sisters had. The easy camaraderie. The support, the safety they’d found in the arms of their one true love. Building a home and a life together. Eventually welcoming children into the world.

“The point,” I said, “is after Sioux Falls…things changed, and he was back to normal. Well, not normal, because nothing about that man is normal, but…”

“You are down so bad,” Chloe giggled.

I didn’t even try to deny it, found myself instead saying, “His body is…unreal.”

“ Reeeeeeeallly ?” Delia drawled.

Amara merely shrugged. “Makes sense, actually. He spends all of his free time outside working.”

“And he’s got big hands,” Brie supplied.

“Huge,” I agreed absently, though my mind was lingering on an entirely different appendage.

“Oh shit,” Delia said, eyes widening. “You’ve seen his cock. ”

“Whiskey!” Owen shouted. “Fucking hell, woman.”

“You don’t have to be here for this,” she told him, dropping the phone so we were treated to a lovely view of her bedroom ceiling. In the background, there was some rustling, Delia making shoo ing noises, and Owen’s heavy footfalls as he left the room. Delia picked the phone back up and said, “I sent him out to my office so he won’t bother us until I tell him he can come back. Now where were we?”

“Ella saw Liam’s cock,” Amara said with a wicked grin.

“I have not!” I shrieked. “Well, not exactly.”

My sisters erupted, each of them trying to speak over the other. At last, Chloe calmed everyone enough for me to hear her say, “Explain, El.”

“We went swimming today,” I started, hitching a shoulder up in a half shrug. “I saw some things when his trunks got wet.”

“Please tell me he wears those short shorts,” Delia breathed. “I’m begging you.”

I giggled, but nodded. “Short shorts and tattoos on both thighs.”

“Fucking hell,” she said. “You found a unicorn. If you don’t fuck that man, I’ll never forgive you.”

I sighed, the lightness of the conversation leaving me in an instant. “I don’t think Liam is the kind of guy you just…fuck.”

“And why the hell not?” Delia protested.

“No, she’s right,” Amara said. “Liam is the kind of guy you lock down.”

“And he told me he likes me. That he’s been into me for years .”

The silence was so complete, I could’ve heard a pin drop from halfway across the world .

Then they erupted, yet again speaking and screeching and shouting over each other. As usual, it was pure chaos, and made me grin so widely my cheeks hurt.

I loved being around Liam—truly. Not only was he eye candy, but he was just such a good dude that it was impossible not to be happy in his presence.

But damn, I missed girl talk. I missed these crazy women.

“Explain!” Amara yelled over the din, and I did. Succinctly, I told them about Sioux Falls, the impromptu stop, the conversation about artists—which still gave me the warm fuzzies, that he saw me that way—and him dropping that bomb on me.

“He said, and I quote, ‘you’ve always been the someone special, Wildflower.’”

“Fuck,” Chloe breathed. “That’s going in my next book.”

“Told you,” Amara smirked. “Liam is one thousand percent husband material.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Chloe said, surprising me. As a romance novelist who recently published her first book, she was surely the most optimistic of us when it came to matters of the heart. Normally, she’d be the first one to give credence to that kind of statement.

“I’m in a deeply committed relationship,” she said. “I think that gives me some insider knowledge on the subject.”

“Except you’re not married,” Delia helpfully pointed out.

“Didn’t even really like the guy until about a year ago, actually,” Brie quipped.

“Fuck you guys,” Amara said, though there was no heat behind the words.

“We love Cal, for what it’s worth,” Chloe told Amara, placating her. “But I am the only one of us that’s married, and here’s what I think.”

“Here we go,” Delia said under her breath, accompanying it with an eye roll. I bit back a laugh.

In truth, I really wanted to hear what Chloe had to say. Both because she was right—she was the only one of us who was married, had been for over a year now—and because she was a best-selling romance author. Her words on the subject clearly resonated with the masses, and I could definitely benefit from her insights.

“I don’t think we know enough about Liam to gauge whether or not he’s marriage material,” Chloe continued, ignoring Delia’s statement. “ But I do know that I’ll forever be grateful to him for letting you tag along on that trip. You needed this time away, sissy,” she told me. “And that right there is enough to show me he’s a good man. What I do think is that Alfie fucked you over, and that fucked you up for a while. There’s nothing wrong with taking time to heal, to find yourself again before you can begin giving pieces of yourself to other people again. We’re by your side no matter what.” Amara, Delia, and Brie nodded in agreement. “But it seems to me like you need someone to tell you it’s okay to feel an attraction toward him so you stop beating yourself up over it. And that it’s okay to take the leap, encouraged even, despite the slim chance it may not work out. Because I have a good feeling about this,” she said, holding up a hand when I opened my mouth to protest. “But if that’s what it takes, then listen to me very carefully little sister: it’s okay to move on. And there are worse guys in the world to move on with than Liam Danvers. ”

Though I was seconds away from bursting into tears, deeply grateful for these four women who I was not only lucky enough to call my sisters but also my best friends, I tried to play it off. I’d cried enough the last few months.

“I think you guys will say just about anything to pair me off now that I’m the only lone wolf in our pack,” I said, sniffing loudly.

“No,” Chloe stated firmly. “We only want you to be happy, just like we are.”

I could only nod, my throat clogged with emotion.

I wanted that too. Badly, with every fiber of my being. I just wasn’t sure I knew what that looked like anymore.

But…it seemed like this road trip was as good a place as any to start figuring it out.