A Vine Mess (Love on the Vine #4)

30. Liam

The entire Lawless family waited outside the main house the next morning when Ella and I pulled up to say goodbye. In truth, I had zero desire to leave, would’ve been content to make that little cabin Ella and I had spent the last two nights in our new home and forget all about the final leg—and ultimate destination—of this trip.

The Lawlesses passed us around with hugs and claps on the back, exchanged phone numbers, promises to keep their brother in line—a task no one could accomplish save maybe Delia; Owen did what he wanted, when he wanted—and plans to come back and visit soon.

These people were warm and welcoming, a real family, and it made leaving and heading toward my own broken one that much harder.

I was quiet on the drive, my mind whirring a thousand miles a minute. This stretch was the longest of our trip thus far, eight hours that seemed to pass slowly and far too quickly all at once .

The only saving grace was that I had Ella at my side. She had no idea what she was doing for me, simply holding my hand, letting me sit in my silence because she knew it was what I needed. Allowing me to play an entire audiobook from start to finish without interrupting to ask questions or make me rewind it like she usually did.

She was just…there. A steady presence, an anchor holding me down when I felt like I was going to float away.

Too soon, we were driving through Portland, headed toward the outskirts where Mellie’s family winery was.

I’d spent the first eleven days of this trip relaxing, unspooling myself and giving everything I could to Ella and making it memorable for her. But the moment that sign came into view, everything I thought I’d let go of came rushing back, my entire body going taut once again.

Ella must’ve noticed the change, because she said, “It’s okay, Wills. I’m here.”

I glanced at her, trying to give her a smile that I was afraid looked more like a grimace. “I know, baby. It’s the only reason I’m not turning the fucking van around and giving the whole thing the middle finger.”

She squeezed my hand tighter. “It’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t know my family,” I grumbled.

“If they’re as bad as you say, we’ll just disappear. Just say the word, Wills, and we make a run for it.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her they were worse than I could’ve conveyed with words, and only firsthand experience would prove it.

When we pulled into the lot in front of the resort attached to the winery, I was damn near crushed by a wave of déjà vu. Instead of getting out of the van right away, I merely turned it off and sat in silence, letting my eyes sweep over the buildings and the vineyards beyond.

It looked exactly the same, yet felt entirely different. Or maybe it was just me that was different, seeing this place through fresh eyes, through vision cleared over the course of the last five years.

“So this is it, huh,” Ella said. I shifted to face her, unable to stop my chuckle at her wrinkled nose. “Bit gaudy, don’t you think?”

The chuckle became full, booming laughter.

“Careful, Wildflower. Don’t let any of them hear you say that.”

Ella shrugged. “I guess I just prefer something with a bit more history. Don’t you?”

I clasped her hand between both of mine and brought it to my mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “If I had to choose between this place and Chateau Delatou…well, it’s not really a choice at all.”

By the way her face softened, I knew she understood what I was telling her.

I’d choose Michigan over Oregon.

Chateau Delatou over Renault Vineyards.

Ella Delatou over Merlot Renault.

It wasn’t even a fucking contest.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Ella nodded, let go of me, and got out of the van. Reluctantly, I followed, feeling for all the world like I was walking toward my death.

As we unloaded our bags, a bellhop appeared with a cart, greeting us brightly.

“Welcome to Renault Vineyards! May I ask what the name on the reservation is?”

“Danvers,” I said.

“Ahh, wonderful! Here for the wedding, I presume?” he asked, though he didn’t wait for my response as he clicked the side button on a radio and relayed my name to presumably the front desk.

“Unfortunately,” I told him under my breath.

“Excellent!” he said, clearly not having heard me. “How are you related to the happy couple?”

“I’m the groom’s brother.”

“Wonderful, wonderful,” he said cheerily as the last of our luggage was loaded. “Well, if you’ll follow me, we’ll get you all checked in and settled in your suite. The rest of your party arrived a few days ago, and I’m sure they’ll be pleased to know you made it safely.”

“I doubt—”

Ella elbowed me hard in the side and said, “Yes, I’m sure they will.”

The bellhop hummed the entire way into the gilded lobby, wearing my patience dangerously thin. As I looked around, returning for the first time in a half a decade to this building I’d once spent so much time in, I could see what Ella meant.

It was gaudy. Ostentatious and cold and sterile despite all the gold accents and rich fabrics.

I barely paid attention as the woman behind the desk checked us in, handing over two antique-looking keys that I knew were actually less than twenty years old .

“Pierre will bring your bags up,” the desk attendant said, gesturing to the bellhop. “We hope you enjoy your stay!”

“Not fucking likely,” I mumbled as we turned away.

“Deep breath,” Ella said as we walked away.

“Sorry. I just…being back here—it’s hard.”

“I know,” she assured me. “But you’ve got me, and we’re going to make the most of this weekend, just like we have every other moment of this trip. Okay?”

I couldn’t argue with her, not with that determined glint in her eyes or her vehement words and how deeply I knew she believed them.

“Okay, baby,” I said, hauling her in and pressing a kiss to her temple. “Whatever you say.”

“I love you,” she reminded me. “That’s the only thing that matters.”

“Yeah,” I said, stopping right there in the middle of a narrow hallway, guest rooms branching off from each side, and spun her to face me so I could kiss her properly. “But I love you more.”

Ella grinned. “C’mon. Let’s go freshen up and find something to eat. I’m fucking starving. Breakfast feels like years ago.”

I smiled in response, grateful that she was picking up the slack at a moment when I desperately needed stability, when my level-headedness seemed to be failing me for the first time since…well, since the last time I’d been in this place.

There had been days, in the aftermath of the implosion of my and Mellie’s relationship, where I genuinely believed I’d never find the woman meant for me. The one who was my equal in all the ways that mattered, but who loved me just as much for our differences as for our similarities .

And then I met Ella Delatou, and that was the day my life changed forever.

Those four years apart were worth it to have her pressed against me now, by my side as we navigated this next adventure.

Ella and I spent the bulk of the following morning and afternoon in bed, tangled in each other, pausing only to eat or use the restroom. She knew I was trying to lose myself in her, doing whatever I could to avoid facing my family, and was all too happy to oblige. I loved her even more for it—that she wasn’t pushing me to do something I wasn’t ready to do.

Then again, I’d never be ready.

Finally, we couldn’t avoid it any longer, though I did give her another orgasm in the shower before we peeled ourselves away from each other to get ready.

I’d chosen a suit for tonight so dark blue it was nearly black, a stark white shirt beneath, a maroon tie and pocket square. I’d received strict instructions that my tattoos were not allowed to be on display, and though everything in me balked at the idea of buttoning myself up and pretending to be someone I wasn’t, ultimately, I decided it wasn’t a fight worth having.

Besides, Ella would scandalize my family enough for the both of us.

She must’ve had an endless supply of black dresses tucked away in what little luggage she’d brought with her, because while it was the same color, this one was entirely different from the one of the night before .

I swear to god, the thing must’ve been custom made for her. That was the only explanation for the way it perfectly formed to each curve and dip of her body, leaving absolutely nothing about her figure to the imagination.

Words completely eluded me, my mind blissfully blank. All I could do was twirl a finger in the air, urging her to spin in a circle. She happily obliged me, even going so far as to pop her booty out and shoot me a wink over her shoulder before facing forward again.

“Where the hell did you get this?” I asked, approaching her and running my hands over her hips, the satin catching against my callouses.

“Aria,” she said simply.

“Remind me to send her a thank you card. My god , woman.”

The front draped into sort of a cowl that offered a perfect view of the upper curves of her breasts, thin straps arcing over her shoulders and tying behind her neck. The entire back was exposed, as were the bulk of her tattoos—just the way I liked them.

I leaned in, pressing my face into the crook of her neck and inhaling deeply. I’d never be able to smell jasmine again without thinking of her, without being reminded of this trip.

As if sensing I had every intention of latching onto her skin like a goddamn vampire, then traveling south and repeating the process on her pussy, Ella pushed me away and gave me a pointed glare.

Turning me toward the door, she patted my ass and said, “Let’s go or we’ll be late.”

I sighed, knowing she was right .

It was time to face the firing squad.

The first person to see us when we arrived in the bar downstairs, which had been closed to the public for this weekend, was my mother, and I was grateful for the opportunity to ease Ella into things before she’d be thrown to the wolves. I’d do whatever I could to protect her, but my father and brother were assholes, and there weren’t many ways to shield someone from the words they tended to dole out like pointed barbs.

“Oh, my baby boy,” my mom said as she approached, her hands coming to my face, simply resting there as her blue eyes— my eyes—darted across my face. “It’s been too long.”

“I know,” I whispered, leaning in to hug her. “I’m sorry.”

In the same way that Ella’s scent now reminded me of the happiness and joy we’d found on this trip, my mother’s warm vanilla one would forever bring me back to the only fond memories I had from childhood.

After lingering a little longer in that embrace, simply because I hadn’t seen her in so long, I let go and stepped to the side, ushering Ella forward.

“Mom, this is my girlfriend, Ella. Ella, this is mom, Andrea.”

“Girlfriend?” Mom said, blinking in surprise a moment before her mouth tipped up in a grin and holding a hand out for Ella. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ella. And please, call me Drea.”

I quirked a brow. She never allowed anyone save close friends to call her by her nickname. In that motherly way of hers, she must’ve sensed Ella was a good one—and that this relationship was going to stick forever if I had anything to say about it.

Before conversation could continue, a voice boomed out behind us, and I audibly groaned .

“William, my boy!” my father boomed as he approached our little circle, forcing himself into the space between me and my mom. “About time you showed up. We thought you were getting in yesterday.”

“We did,” I said coolly and without elaboration.

“Well, nice of you to show your face, then.”

“Good to see you as well, Dad,” I said through gritted teeth.

“And I see you’ve dragged someone in off the street,” he said, his upper lip curling.

“This is Ella, Will. Liam’s new girlfriend.”

My dad huffed out a disgusted sound, not even bothering to pretend for the sake of keeping up appearances.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Danvers,” Ella said sweetly, though we all heard it for the lie it was. She had a death grip on my upper arm, nails damn near puncturing through my sport coat and shirt beneath, barely holding back from launching herself at him.

“How did you two meet?” Dad asked me, pointedly ignoring Ella.

She clearly didn’t like being dismissed like that, so before I could, she replied, “He works for my family’s winery.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed. “ You ’re a Delatou?”

My girl stuck her hand out. “Ella Delatou, at your service.”

Dad merely stared at her, trying to figure out how to use this knowledge to his advantage—or maybe just trying to figure out how to get rid of her.

“Your family has been so wonderful to Liam,” Mom said, saving Ella from the awkwardness of my dad ignoring her handshake. “We’re thrilled he found a home in Michigan, doing what he loves.”

Dad snorted, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

Something in me eased then. My father would likely never approve of Ella—not the tattoos nor the purple hair—in the same way he never approved of me. But my mother loved her, and as long as Gramps did as well, I was set.

The rest of my family could get fucked, my baby brother most of all.

And as if I’d summoned him, there was a commotion at the door as Sammy and his bride, Char, appeared. A thundering applause went up from their gathered guests, each of them preening under the attention.

God, they truly were a match made in hell. I was more thankful than ever that I lived on the other side of the country.

My brother and I looked so little alike it was a wonder we were born of the same two parents. I heavily favored my mother’s side of the family with my dark hair, height, and broad build, though Mom was the exception to the rule as far as size went. Sammy, on the other hand, took after Dad. He was several inches shorter than me, not even six foot, fair-haired and skinned, and more delicately built. He was what I’d call a pretty boy.

I watched him offer his too-white smile to everyone he passed, shaking hands, leaving his bride in his dust as he practically beelined for our little grouping once he set eyes on me.

“Well, well, well,” he said when he reached us. “The prodigal son has returned.”

“I don’t think you know what that term actually means, Sammy.”

My brother stiffened. “Don’t call me that. ”

“Why not?”

Sam straightened, spine going ramrod as he attempted to level me with a glare. His shoulders drew back, chin raised, eyes narrowed. “My name is Samuel . I’m no longer that stupid little boy who used to idolize you even when you made my life a living hell,” he spat.

I couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. “If that’s the way you remember our childhood, you’re even more brainwashed than I thought.”

“Just because you pissed on tradition—” my little brother hissed, but Dad put a hand on his chest, stalling him.

“Fight nice, boys. There are too many eyes on us.”

“And all you’ve ever cared about is your image,” I gritted through the fakest smile I could manage.

Ella hovered nearby, pulled into conversation with my mom, and I was grateful for it. Grateful she was missing this trainwreck, that someone who genuinely cared about me was welcoming her into the fold.

I was tall enough that I could see over practically every head in the room, my gaze swiveling around as I searched for a way out, and I knew it the moment Mellie appeared.

Bracing myself, I waited for the gut punch.

It never came.

I grinned, ignoring whatever my dad and Sammy were saying in favor of returning to Ella’s side. Having her tucked against me, I could fully relax—into the knowledge that I was fully over Mellie, that I was fully wrapped around Ella’s little finger, that this was the love I was meant to find and keep forever.

Without breaking her stride in conversation with my mom, Ella only shot me a quick wink and snuggled deeper into me.

Mellie must’ve been scanning the crowd for me, because when I looked up to track her progress, I was unsurprised to find her coming toward me, a wide, excited grin on her face. When she reached us, she gave my parents kisses on their cheeks, said a polite hello to Sammy, then whirled on me.

“William,” she said in that sultry tone of hers I’d once loved so much; now, it only grated on my ears. “Good to see you. It’s been, what…four years?”

“Five,” I corrected.

“Too long regardless. How have you been? How’s that little job in Michigan?”

“That little job is great,” I gritted out. She could take pot shots at me and my character all day. That I could handle. But I wouldn’t stand for her insulting my job, nor the family that had given it to me—especially not with one of those people standing next to me. “Recently released a line of canned cocktails in collaboration with the CEO, curated a menu for a new distillery that opened locally, and orchestrated construction on a community garden. Plus the grapes are off to a great start this season. I think our 2026 vintage will be our best yet, don’t you, Wildflower?”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Ella said, one corner of her lips twisted up in a subtle smirk.

“Oh!” Mellie gasped, bringing a hand to her chest as she acknowledged Ella for the first time. “Forgive my rudeness. I’m Merlot Renault, but you can call me Mellie.”

“Pleasure,” Ella said. “I’m Ella Delatou.”

“Delatou?” Mellie cut a look to me. “Isn’t that the family you work for?”

“Sure is,” I said proudly.

“Well…” she trailed off, brown eyes darting between me and Ella. “Seems some things haven’t changed after all.”

I knew the barb would come when she learned who Ella was, and I was glad I’d had the foresight to warn Ella about Mellie’s attitude. Neither of us reacted, though internally, I was deeply annoyed with Mellie for saying such a thing.

The situations could not be more different. Mellie and I had been so young when we got together. Punch drunk in lust, experiencing puppy love. Inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, ultimately only serving to show me what I didn’t want.

What Ella and I had was…everything. She was my soulmate. The woman I’d move heaven and earth for if she asked. The one I wanted by my side for the rest of my days.

“Actually,” I told Mellie, “everything has changed.”

An emotion I couldn’t name flitted across her eyes, there and gone in a flash, but I knew it only meant one thing: trouble.

“We’ll see about that.”

In response, Ella shifted toward me so she could wrap her arm around my waist, her heels making it as simple as leaning in to press a kiss to my bearded cheek.

“C’mon, Wills,” she said, running a hand up my torso and gripping my tie. “I think it’s about time you buy me a drink.”

Anything to get the fuck away from these people.