A Vine Mess (Love on the Vine #4)

16. Liam

The next day, Ella and I decided to take our first big hike of the trip. In truth, I needed the fresh air and physical exertion. I was damn near coming out of my skin being so close to her all the time, and after our moment in Deadwood the day before, I needed to push myself and hopefully be so tired by the time we returned to the campground that I’d forget how badly I wanted her.

Still, a little voice in the back of my mind sought to remind me that it seemed like Ella was coming around to the idea of us, and I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the knowledge. I knew I needed to tread lightly, but my hands itched to pull her against me every time I looked at her, and I could feel my self-control rapidly fraying.

Since she had virtually no knowledge of the area and I had personally spent weeks preparing for this trip, she was more than okay with letting me choose the trail, and I selected Black Elk Peak .

Located in Custer State Park, I selected Black Elk Peak for a number of reasons, the main one being that, at over seventy-two thousand feet, it was the highest point of elevation between the Rocky Mountains and the Pyrenees Mountains in France. When I told Ella this, she hadn’t been nearly as impressed or excited as I was.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked as we loaded some gear into the van. “You can stay here and relax. I don’t mind going alone.”

In fact, despite knowing there’d be no way in hell she took me up on my offer, I almost wished she would, simply so I could have some time to myself in order to get my head back on straight.

She glared at me in response. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

I didn’t bother to fight her. I knew exactly how deep that Delatou stubborn streak ran, and I had zero desire to go up against it.

Once the van was fully stocked with water and snacks for the trip—it was a seven mile loop that could take us anywhere from two to four hours, and with Ella’s lack of experience, I was betting on the latter—we set off.

Custer State Park was beautiful, named so because it was where General Custer led an expedition that discovered gold in the late 1800s.

I was a bit of a history nerd, and I’d spent hours reading up on each of the areas I wanted to explore before I began booking places to stay for this trip. There was just so much to be seen and so little time to do so. I wanted to get the most bang for my buck, and I liked being able to come into a place like this park and know the history behind it .

Especially when I spouted those facts and impressed the dark-haired beauty next to me. Well…mostly impressed.

We parked in the lot at the trailhead, loaded up our packs, and set off.

It was relatively easy going at first, a gentle incline that allowed us to get used to moving our bodies in new ways.

At least, it was for me.

Ella, on the other hand, was huffing and puffing barely a hundred yards down the trail.

“We can turn around now,” I assured her. “Do something easier.”

She paused to gulp down some water before answering me. “No, Wills. I’m doing this. The views at the top are supposed to be incredible, right?”

I nodded. “Supposedly, you can see Wyoming, Montana, Nebraska, and North Dakota as well as South Dakota from up there.”

“Then let’s go. We’re losing daylight.”

I chuckled, though she wasn’t wrong. We’d bummed around the Park for a while before taking this hike, hoping to catch the sun going down as we made our descent.

She stomped past me, and I decided I didn’t quite mind the view from back here.

The day had heated up quickly, burning off the fog and dew clinging to the grass outside our cabin when we’d woken up. We’d swung through a store and grabbed a can of coffee the day before, and I was grateful I didn’t have to suffer through another cup of that disgusting instant shit. And I’d been even more so when Ella stepped outside with a mug in hand, like taking our morning caffeine on the porch was part of our routine. Her hair had been mussed from sleep, and she’d been dressed in a silky pajama set, clearly braless, the top of which had done nothing to hide her peaked nipples—or the small balls resting on either side of them.

My mouth dried out at the memory, at the knowledge that she had her tits pierced, and I guzzled down some water to combat it.

The sight of her ass in her tight little workout leggings didn’t help matters, either, nor did the skimpy little workout tank she revealed when she slipped off her quarter-zip, tying it around her waist and tying her hair back in a ponytail. The damn thing suctioned to her chest, leaving nothing to the imagination, almost like she wanted to torture me.

I was completely obsessed with every part of this woman’s physical appearance, but especially her tattoos, which were truly works of art, and I was desperate to know who her artist was. They were an odd collection, exactly like mine were, and it made me feel connected to her in a weird way. There were tiny, scrawled phrases, butterflies and bees, a hummingbird, sparrow, and blue jay. And, of course, the flowers.

My personal favorite was the rose on the cap of her left shoulder, mostly because it reminded me so much of the one on my hand.

Of course, it wasn’t only her physical appearance I was attracted to. The brains, the heart, and the soul underneath? They were even more stunning than the exterior packaging. I’d considered myself lucky that she even gave me the time of day.

Ella paused for a moment ahead of me, so abruptly I accidentally slammed into her back, an oof leaving me as her pack dug into my stomach. Still, I put my arms around her to steady us both.

She spun toward me, standing close enough that I could pick out each individual freckle on her perfect face, could see the gold flecks in her green eyes. Her skin was flushed, plump lips parted, harsh exhales filtering through my beard.

“What’re you doing?” she asked.

“I got distracted,” I answered honestly, stepping away.

Her brow furrowed. “Distracted by what?”

“An eagle,” I said, waving my hand at the sky in an approximation of where the bird that didn’t exist had been. “It’s gone now.” Roughly clearing my throat, I added, “Sorry for bumping into you.”

“It’s okay,” she replied, giving me a reassuring smile, then hooking her thumb over her shoulder. “Shall we continue?”

I swung my arms out in a gentlemanly gesture, though that was so far from the places my mind had wandered it might as well be on another planet. “After you, Wildflower.”

With a smirk, as though she could read my mind—understood that I wanted further opportunities to look at her ass—she took off up the trail, leaving me alone to adjust my cock before racing after her.

Even though we’d barely made it half a mile up the hill, the views were already incredible. We’d cleared the treetops, and below I could see fields where wildlife grazed and numerous rock outcroppings that gave the Black Hills their name.

We made it another two hundred yards or so before bad luck struck, and it was almost as if I watched the whole thing play out in slow motion.

Ella had her phone out, presumably recording a video as she walked, completely unaware of what was happening beneath her feet. I saw the root before she did, but was too slow to call out to her before it caught the toe of her hiking book.

Her arms pinwheeled wildly as she fought to keep her balance, stumbling to the side, closer and closer to the edge—where the trail dropped into a jagged cliff face.

I pumped my arms and legs as hard as I could, rushing to her side, reaching my hand out for her, screaming her name.

Time resumed its normal speed as my palm wrapped around her wrist. I tugged her to me, and we both fell to the ground. After rolling a few times, we stopped, Ella on top of me, all the air rushing from my lungs with the impact.

“Oh my god!” Ella screamed, sitting up enough to run her hands all over me while I fought to regain my breath. “Oh my god, Wills. Are you okay?”

All I could do was hold up a finger before gripping her wrists and pulling her hands away, silently asking her to stop touching me; it was only making things worse. I felt like I was living in that J. Holiday song.

Ella kept her hands to herself after that, but she remained straddling me, her face hovering over mine.

And okay, that was almost worse.

As my bronchioles once again expanded, allowing me to breathe, the lightheadedness I’d been experiencing a moment before could no longer be attributed to lack of oxygen.

Now, it was all Ella’s fault. Her proximity had the ability to take the wind completely out of my sails .

“I’m okay,” I croaked at last, after interminable minutes of us staring at each other, her forehead creased with worry while she watched me.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” I said. “Here, let me sit up.”

She scrambled off me, though didn’t go any further than kneeling at my side while I sat up and took slow, measured breaths. My lungs still burned, but I was able to almost fully inhale.

Finally, I got to my feet, Ella rising with me, both of us dusting ourselves off.

Then, without warning, Ella threw herself into my arms.

I clutched her tightly to me, one hand at the small of her back, the other anchored at the nape of her neck.

God, I’d almost lost her thanks to a tree root.

I didn’t know which of us was shaking—likely both—as we held each other, Ella softly sniffling against the crook of my neck.

When she pulled away, I mourned the loss of her warmth and vitality instantly. But she was alive, and that was the most important thing to remember.

“You saved my life.”

I shrugged. “Your dad would’ve killed me if I hadn’t.”

Ella tipped her head back and laughed at the sky, though the adrenaline coursing through her veins had tears continuing to cut paths through the dust on her cheeks.

Somber mood broken when she calmed again, she grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together and saying, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Wildflower,” I said hoarsely. I glanced up to the trail, then back to her. “I’m assuming you don’t want to finish this hike.”

Ella shook her head vehemently. “I want to eat my weight in pasta, then maybe get drunk later—in the comfort of our cabin.”

I chuckled, letting her hand go to hook my arm around her shoulders, steering us back down the hill. “Your wish is my command.”

A quick Google search located a highly rated Italian joint nearby, and when Ella said she wanted to eat her weight in pasta, she wasn’t being figurative. We arrived back at the cabin with several paper bags of food, having ordered several of Ella’s favorite dishes. I wasn’t a big pasta guy, but after the near miss earlier, I was the kind of guy to give the girl whatever she wanted as long as it made her happy.

And when we spread the food out on the small coffee table—containers of spaghetti and meatballs, chicken alfredo, penne alla vodka, macaroni and cheese in a thick, creamy white sauce, plus a mountain of cheesy bread and a large bowl of salad to balance out all the carbs—Ella’s face lit with glee. Like a kid in a candy store, she dug into the meal with gusto, eating so quickly I wasn’t entirely sure she actually tasted any of it.

Though, when she caught me staring at her, dumbfounded, she offered me a close-lipped smile around her mouthful of food and slowed down.

“Thank you,” I said with a laugh. “Can’t have you choking after I saved your life once today.”

She swallowed audibly and said, “God, that was fucking scary. I still have no idea how you got to me so quickly.”

I sat up straighter and placed my hands on my hips. “I’m Superman.”

A cackle burst free from her, and she clapped a hand over her mouth, devolving into giggles behind it.

“Whatever it was, thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Wildflower.”

“You saved my life,” she reminded me.

I shrugged. “You probably wouldn’t have died. Just been maimed or seriously injured.”

Next thing I knew, a pillow was smacking me in the side of the head, knocking the piece of bread I’d just bitten off clean out of my mouth.

I turned to her slowly, a feral smile twisting my lips.

“Oh, you’re in for it now.”

Ella’s eyes widened a moment before I lunged. She barely managed to set her plate down before I was on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions and digging my fingers into her ribs.

“Please, stop!” she gasped between bouts of laughter. “Please, I’ll do anything!”

“Anything?” I grinned wider, not letting up in my assault.

“Anything!”

God, there were so many directions I could go with that. But I decided to be a good boy and said, “Stop thanking me.”

“Okay, okay!”

I pulled my hands away, though I remained hovering over her as she caught her breath.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Wildflower. ”

Ella nodded. “Me too, Wills.”

Reluctantly, I returned to my side of the couch and lifted the remote off the table, turning the TV on and flipping through streaming services.

“Now, what do you want to watch while we get drunk?”

An hour later, we were deep in a variety pack of beers from a local brewery, and Nicolas Cage was running from the FBI on the TV.

“Riley is such an underrated character,” Ella said with a sigh, propping her chin on her fist and staring at the man on the screen. She’d just taken a sip of her beer, an errant drop clinging to the curve of her bottom lip, and I leaned deeper into my end of the couch to avoid leaning into her and licking it off. Fuck, I was in trouble. “Like…you could argue he’s solely responsible for Ben being able to steal the Declaration .”

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” I told her. “But I’ve only got eyes for Abigail.”

She turned to me, brows drawn together. “So you’re into blondes?”

Dodging the question, I said, “You can’t deny she’s hot.”

Ella faced the screen again, watching Diane Kruger playing Abigail Chase as she and Nicolas Cage bent over his father’s dining room table, lemons and blow dryers in hand.

“Okay, fine,” Ella huffed. “She’s hot.”

“Thank you,” I grinned. Then, daring to lean closer, I added, “For the record, brunettes with green eyes are more my type.”

Ella sucked in a sharp breath but didn’t look at me, and I chuckled lowly as we continued the movie.

As it progressed, and as we transitioned into the second, she shifted on the couch, turning herself from upright to laying down, stretching her legs over the arm and her head resting on my shoulder.

“Comfortable?” I asked.

Ella hummed and sleepily said, “Very.”

And there was no fucking chance in hell I was moving her. Not when she felt comfortable enough with me to use me as a pillow.

We were barely twenty minutes into Book of Secrets when she snuffled faintly, and I knew she was out cold.

I remained there, wholly content, and allowed the movie to play out before I moved us. I wanted this time with her, even when it was something as simple and innocent as us sort of cuddling during a movie until she fell asleep.

Before I lifted her off the couch, I took a beat to study her. How long her hair had gotten, the bright purple streaks faded to lavender, most likely thanks in large part to all of the time she’d been spending outside. Her sooty lashes fanned out over the freckles high on her cheeks, her skin flushed slightly in sleep.

And that mouth. My god, that mouth.

Plush, the bottom lip slightly fuller than the top, giving her a pouty expression. I wondered what they’d feel like beneath my own, and narrowly held myself back from brushing my thumb along the bottom one, pulling it to the side and imagining them wrapped around my—

No.

Vigorously, I shook my head, deciding that was the moment I needed to get up and bring her to bed before I did something stupid, crossed some line I could never come back from .

Gently, I shifted out from under her then lifted her into my arms. She tensed only slightly before relaxing into me, her head lolling against my shoulder. She wasn’t heavy in the slightest, but she was incredibly long-limbed, even with her tucked against my body the way she was, so I had to shuffle through the doorway and narrow space between her bed and the wall in order to peel the covers back and lay her across it properly.

When I released her, she shifted only to curl herself tighter into a ball, and I pulled the blankets up over her.

Fuck, she was stunning. Faint strains of moonlight filtered into the room through the window, illuminating her skin until it practically glowed.

I had to get out of this room, but I couldn’t resist bending over her, planting a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead, and whispering, “Good night, Wildflower,” before I went to bed alone.