A Vine Mess (Love on the Vine #4)

25. Liam

Dusk Valley had been a late addition to the trip itinerary, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to check out where Owen had grown up after he mentioned it a few months ago. Surprisingly—or maybe not—all rentals in the area, including hotels, were fully booked, but one of his twin brothers owned a dude ranch and had agreed to put us up in one of the cabins for the time we were in town.

For free, I might add, despite my insistence that we pay him.

I’d find a way to return the favor one day.

The heart of downtown was, for lack of a better word, charming. Ella ooh ed and ahh ed over the buildings, which were a mixture of craftsman and brick, each business sporting a different theme, and the signs and awnings out front gently flapping in the breeze. It was obvious the town took great pride in cleanliness and overall appearance, as everything was well-kept and inviting.

When we neared the end of the main drag—a street called Cassia—I had Ella pull up the GPS on her phone to get us to the ranch.

“ Turn right onto Spruce ,” the disembodied robot voice directed me. “ Then, in two hundred feet, take a right onto Balsam .”

“That’s so cute,” Ella grinned. “All the streets are named after trees!”

I only shook my head and smiled indulgently, intent on getting us to our destination before the light from the day was completely gone.

Fifteen minutes later, once we’d made another turn onto a gravel road, Siri said, “ In two-tenths of a mile, your destination will be on your right .”

Driving slowly to avoid blowing a tire on the rougher terrain, I turned my head back and forth. There was nothing out here for miles save flatlands broken up by gently rolling hills and cattle. In the distance, mountains rose up, standing sentinel over the land.

Up ahead, I could see a break in the fence where a gateway stood, and as we neared and turned down the dirt road, I grinned at the sign overhead.

LAWLESS RESCUE & DUDE RANCH

“Okay so which one of the twins owns which half of the business?” I asked Ella as we bumped down the dirt two track.

“If I’m remembering correctly, Finn has the rescue ranch, and West owns the dude ranch.”

“How the fuck are we supposed to tell them apart?”

“From what Delia has told me, West is the wild child, and Finn is more laid back. Plus—and again, if I remember correctly—West has longer hair. ”

We rounded a bend where a large log outbuilding sat, the doors locked up tight, and the ranch opened up before us. To the left were barns and paddocks, with numerous farm animals roaming around. Chickens clucked around a nearby coop, and stable hands walked horses in and out as they came and went. To the right was a gorgeous log farmhouse that reminded me of something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“Wow,” Ella breathed as she stared up at the home. “Delia wasn’t lying.”

“About what?” I asked as I pulled to a stop out front next to a few other vehicles.

“About the distillery looking just like Owen’s family home.”

And then it clicked—the buildings were spitting images of each other, though the farmhouse was slightly more rambling with what appeared to be two additions added onto each side, the logs less weathered than that of the main, original structure.

A woman who couldn’t be older than her late-sixties came out of the house, apron on, dish towel slung over her shoulder, grey-blonde hair piled atop her head in a bun.

“Ella!” Birdie exclaimed as we exited the van, rushing down the steps to greet my girl. Ella allowed Birdie to wrap her in a hug, and I watched as Ella’s entire body relaxed. She must’ve been more nervous about facing these people again than she’d let on.

“And Liam!” Birdie crowed, rushing over to me and pulling me against her. Though she was small enough that there were several inches between the top of her head and the underside of my chin, the woman gave a fierce hug.

“Hi, Mrs. Lawless,” I said when she pulled away. “It’s so good to see you again.”

Birdie snagged the towel from her shoulder and whipped it at me so quickly I didn’t have time to react. “Call me Birdie,” she admonished.

I chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Just like my boys,” she grumbled as she hooked her arm through mine, crossed the space between us to collect Ella, then dragged us up the steps and into the house.

Ella audibly gasped from Birdie’s other side as we strode into the foyer, and I had to agree with that reaction though I didn’t make a sound.

The ceilings soared, and a floating walkway connected one half of the upstairs to the other. I’d bet good money Owen and his brothers had a hell of a lot of fun playing around on that growing up, scaring the shit out of their parents.

Through an opening to the right, there appeared to be a living space and a set of ascending stairs. In the opposite direction, something positively mouthwatering scented the air, and Birdie directed us that way. We walked through a formal dining room with a table long enough to seat twenty easily, the vaulted ceilings continuing in there to make the room feel spacious.

Past that was an impressive kitchen, and we walked in to find two men arguing about which pie flavor was superior: apple or pecan.

“The fact that I’m related to you is disgusting,” the one with shorter hair said, wrinkling his nose at the other. From where I stood, I could only see their profiles, which was disconcerting to say the least as they matched perfectly.

The twins, then.

“I’ve been saying the same thing for thirty-one years,” the one with longer hair quipped. “I can’t believe I have to walk around with a face that looks just like yours, and with the knowledge that you think pecans are even edible, much less better than apples.”

The other—Finn, I now realized—shook his head. “You’re a fucking moron.”

“Boys,” Birdie scolded, and they both turned abruptly to look at their mother, offering her sheepish smiles when they realized she wasn’t alone.

In a flash, both twins were across the room, offering me handshakes and Ella hugs. Then Birdie ushered them both back into the kitchen where, still arguing, they each picked up a platter of food and disappeared through a different doorway. We followed behind Birdie, my hand on the small of Ella’s back, and entered what appeared to be a more casual dining space. The long table had bench seating instead of chairs, and was nicked and scarred and even scorched in places. The length of it was laden with food—everything from mashed potatoes and gravy, diced and fried potatoes, green beans and corn on the cob, a bowl of salad I could swim in, burgers, dogs, and barbecue chicken legs, plus the aforementioned apple and pecan pies for dessert.

Birdie settled her hands on Ella’s shoulders and grinned up at me. “Welcome to Dusk Valley.”

Ella stepped out of her hold and whipped her head in Birdie’s direction. “You did all of this for us ?”

Birdie shrugged. “I’ve got a million children running around here, and at least half of them are here for dinner on any given night, but I never pass up the opportunity to put a feast together. Besides,” Birdie said, clasping one of Ella’s hands between her own, “you’re family now. ”

I could see the tears welling in Ella’s eyes by the way they took on a glassiness when she looked up at me.

Jumping in to save her lest she start crying, I ushered Birdie away from her and said, “Thank you. This is…wonderful.”

“And I’ve got the cabin all fixed up for you too,” West offered. “Best one I’ve got. Had to shuffle around a few reservations to make it work, but we got it squared away.”

“You really didn’t have to do that for us,” Ella told him.

West only grinned, removing his hat and hooking it over a knee as he sat at one end of a bench. “It’s like Mama said…you’re family now too.”

Considering I didn’t have a big family of my own, I wasn’t in a position to be turning down offers like that, so I merely nodded and dropped down next to Ella, who had slid onto the bench beside Finn, opposite West.

“Hello?” a man shouted from somewhere far away.

“That’ll be another one,” Birdie said, leaving the room to go greet one of her sons.

“Which one is that?” Ella asked, jerking her head in that general direction.

“Crew,” West told her. He flicked his wrist to check his watch, and I couldn’t help notice the ink stretching up into his shirt. “Which means Trey will be here any second.”

“How many of my shithead baby brothers are already here?” another voice asked from the kitchen, and West smirked as if to say, told ya .

I nodded at West’s arms. “You’ve got ink?” I asked, rolling up my own sleeves.

West pushed his long-sleeved tee to his elbows, and I whistled low at the tattoos covering both of them, cutting off abruptly at his wrists, which told me they likely went all the way to his shoulders in full sleeves.

“We all do,” Finn said, following suit. “Except Aria, our sister. And Owen only has a few, but…well, you’ll see.”

Two more men shuffled into the room behind their mother, and it was obvious they were all related. The same dirty blond hair, exact same shade of blue eyes.

I knew I’d met them at the distillery opening briefly, but there were so many it was hard to keep track. I was grateful when the shorter of the two—which wasn’t saying much since they were all over six feet tall—extended a hand and introduced himself as Crew. His hair was buzzed on the sides but long and floppy on the top, still wet from a recent shower, his tattoos stretching all the way to his fingers. The smell of something burnt followed in his wake.

“Sorry I couldn’t help cook,” he told his mom as he skirted the table to sit beside West. “I got a call out right before shift ended, and it took nearly six hours to knock it down.”

“Crew is a firefighter,” Birdie explained to us.

“Explains the smoke smell,” Ella said, then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Shit, sorry.”

Crew only barked out a laugh and waved her off. “It’s fine. That shit clings to you. It’s just part of my DNA now.”

“A real smoke-eater,” West said, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

Birdie whirled on Trey. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Surveillance. ”

“You’re the cop?” I asked.

Trey shook his head, grabbing the seat next to Crew. “Nah, that’s Lane. I own a small private security company, and I was keeping an eye on a client’s property. He’s been out of town and having some issues with vandals.”

“You catch the little shits?” a new voice asked from the doorway, and we all whirled to find a tall, broad man in a black sheriff’s uniform standing there.

“Nope,” Trey told him. “You’ll be the first call when I do.”

“I damn well better be. I’d hate to have to arrest you for obstruction.”

Trey rolled his eyes, muttering, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

The Lawless men burst into laughter, “remember when” stories immediately flying through the air. Under the table, Ella grabbed my hand as we silently watched the commotion.

“What set them off this time?” a feminine voice asked from next to me.

As though she’d appeared out of nowhere, a young girl who couldn’t have been more than her early twenties sat next to me.

Ella leaned forward, peering around me, and said, “Hi, Aria.”

The girl grinned. “How’s my big bro doing?”

“He’s good,” Ella replied. “Things are picking up at the distillery now that Memorial Day is getting closer, so he and Delia are busy.”

Aria’s smile flattened a little. “Explains why he hasn’t called in a week.”

Ella grimaced. “Sorry, kid. But you’ve got me and Liam to keep you company!”

Aria turned those blue eyes, exactly like each of her brothers’, on me and said, “Better than all this riff-raff.”

“Who you callin’ riff raff?” West asked, tossing a roll at his sister. Unfortunately, his aim was off, and it smacked me in the face instead. “Shit, man. I’m sorry. Don’t beat me up, please.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Why would I beat you up?”

“I don’t know. You’ve got that look in your eye like you could kill a man if provoked.”

“I hardly think taking a soft bread roll to the face is grounds for murder.”

Lane, who had dropped into the bench across from us and straddled it, stuck his fingers in his ears. “How many times do I have to tell you idiots not to talk about killing people in front of me?”

Finn snorted, joining the conversation for the first time since his other brothers started appearing. “You say that like you don’t know exactly the shit West and I got up to in the service.”

“What branch?” I asked.

“Army,” West supplied. “Rangers, to be exact.”

“Impressive.”

The twins shared a look before Finn said, “It was…something.”

A hauntedness passed over both of their expressions, and I knew they’d seen shit they’d never talk about with anyone as long as they drew breath.

Before I graduated high school, I’d briefly considered entering the service. Senior year had been particularly hellish, my dad on my ass constantly about making sure my grades were tip-top so I could get into a good school, get my MBA, and come back to work with him.

Obviously, that was the absolute last thing I wanted to do with my life, had zero desire to walk any path that placed me under my father’s control. The military sounded like an ideal way to make a clean break from him in a way he couldn’t weasel me out of by throwing money at the problem until it went away.

Ultimately, I chose not to enlist, deciding facing college and finding a way out of the other shit down the line was the lesser of two evils, but I had a fuckton of respect for anyone who did.

Before the conversation could take another turn, Birdie returned with a stack of plates, silverware, and napkins, passing them out as she moved around the table.

“You staying, Lane?” she asked, not waiting for a response before she set a plate in front of him anyway.

“I’m on duty, so I’m not getting comfortable, but I won’t say no to a meal.”

“Good boy,” Birdie said, patting him on the shoulder before taking the spot next to him. “Nice of you to join us, Aria.”

“Whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Birdie released an exasperated sigh, and Trey grumbled his sister’s name low in warning.

Aria merely glared in response.

“Let’s eat,” Birdie said, and all conversation ceased, the tension evaporating as we dug in.

Despite the gentle ribbing and petulance, there was a lot of love and respect to be found at that table. Conversation resumed as we piled our plates high, Ella and I content to watch and listen as the Lawlesses shared stories about the town and the ranch and their family. I knew from Ella that their father had passed away some years ago, and took care not to mention anything that would stir up bad feelings.

I was just happy to be there, surrounded by these people who clearly cared deeply for one another, but I’d be lying if the whole experience wasn’t a little bittersweet.

Bitter, because I hadn’t grown up around people like this, hadn’t had a nuclear family that acted like a family .

But sweet because I was here now, because I got to live nights like these, with the Lawlesses here and with the Delatous back in Michigan.

When Birdie stood to serve dessert and the boys jumped up to clear dirty dishes, I turned to Ella and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“What was that for?” she asked, though she hummed happily and burrowed into my side.

“Just grateful to be here with you.”

She tipped her head back, offering her mouth to me, and I gave her a quick kiss.

“I have a feeling there will be a lot more nights like this for us back home,” she said.

I didn’t need to tell her I was thinking the exact same thing.

This family, and all the times I’d spent around Ella’s, made me long for one of my own. I desperately craved this kind of life, with lots of kids running around, big family gatherings where nothing exceptional happened save the time spent with the people you loved most in the world.

I wanted all of that for myself. A brood of children, and for the woman at my side to remain there forever.

I needed to ask her to stay, to extend her trip just a little longer. But we were still so new that I wasn’t sure how she’d feel about meeting my entire family, especially knowing how strained my relationships with half of them were.

And, of course, there was the Mellie of it all. A story I’d definitely have to tell before the two came face to face.

Before, I’d been terrified to share that with her, but now that I knew her story, knew that she’d understand what I’d gone through, I thought maybe finally sharing my truth wouldn’t be so bad after all.