Chapter Twenty-Seven
Liam
The supper club was precisely what you’d expect to find in small-town Wisconsin: warm, inviting, and smelling of deep-fried perfection.
The neon “Friday Night Fish Fry” sign flickered just above the door, its red and green glow a beacon for locals and tourists alike.
The supper club was alive with energy. We didn’t go to our usual spot in Buttercup Lake. It was too packed for the night, so we chose one about ten minutes down the road in the opposite direction.
The warm glow of dimmed chandeliers bounced off taxidermy fish mounted on wood-paneled walls. Each booth had a tiny flickering candle and red checkered tablecloths, and the smell of fried fish and buttery rye bread filled the air. In one corner, a jukebox hummed an old Johnny Cash tune, and the sound of laughter and clinking glasses filled the gaps between conversations. It was like stepping back in time, and I didn’t mind one bit tonight.
A lot had transpired with Evie, and going out with my siblings was good.
Beck led the way to our booth behind the hostess, his broad shoulders barely fitting between the tables. Violet and Fifi trailed behind him, each throwing out greetings to people they recognized—which, in a place like this, was basically everyone.
“I’m just saying, we’d better get cheese curds as an appetizer,” Fifi declared as we slid into the booth.
“Cheese curds are non-negotiable,” Violet agreed, grinning as she grabbed a menu.
Beck scoffed, pulling off his flannel and tossing it onto the empty seat beside him. “You two would order curds and nothing else if you could. I need a steak.”
“You come to a fish fry for steak?” I teased, shaking my head.
Beck shrugged. “I’m a growing boy.”
“You’re a grown man,” Violet corrected, rolling her eyes. “But fine. Order your steak, and let us enjoy the best thing about Wisconsin dining.”
Beck shoved a menu across the table toward me and leaned back, grinning. “So, you gonna tell us about Evie, or do we have to guess?”
I paused mid-sip of my Old Fashioned, the bitters and citrus warming me from the inside out. We’d all ordered drinks while we waited for our table to be called.
“What makes you think there’s anything to tell?”
“Come on, Liam.” Violet leaned in, her chin propped on her hand. “You’ve been walking around like a guy who just won the lottery. Fifi and I were talking about it earlier. You’ve got a glow.”
“A glow?” I set my drink down and raised an eyebrow. “That’s dramatic, even for you.”
“Not really,” Fifi chimed in, picking at the breadbasket. “You’re smiling all the time, humming. And when was the last time you texted us three separate pictures of a horse because Evie thought this one was cool ?”
Beck laughed. “Dude, she’s got you whipped already, and you’re not even dating.”
“I wouldn’t say whipped,” I muttered, though I could feel my face heating. “But I can say that we’re officially dating.”
“So, spill. How’s it going with her?” Vi asked with a teasing grin.
I sighed, giving in.
There was no dodging these three; truthfully, I wanted to share the good news.
“Alright, fine. Things are... good. Great, even. We’ve been spending time together, but it’s still early.”
“And?” Fifi prompted, gesturing for me to keep going.
“And,” I continued, “she’s amazing. She’s funny, smart, incredibly hardworking, and... I don’t know. There’s just something about her that feels right.”
“That’s the good stuff,” Beck said, smirking. “Now, what’s the hold-up?”
“She’s cautious,” I admitted, leaning back in my seat. “She’s got Hayden to think about, and I get that. She doesn’t let people in easily, and I respect that. But it’s like... every time I’m with her, I can feel her walls lowering, just a little.”
“She’s had a rough go of it, hasn’t she?” Violet’s voice softened. “I remember when she started bringing Hayden to the lodge while she worked on the horses. She was always so focused. Always busy. But sweet, too.”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “She’s been through more than most, but she’s still standing. She’s strong. Stronger than she probably realizes.”
“That’s sweet,” Fifi said with a knowing smile. “And I think you’re kind enough to be patient with her.”
“It’s not about patience,” I said, shrugging. “It’s about wanting her to know I’m not going anywhere. I want to be someone she and Hayden can count on.”
Beck let out a low whistle. “You’re serious about this one.”
“I am,” I admitted. “But it’s her timeline. Not mine.”
I glanced over at the salad bar, a supper club staple.
“Should we get going before our food comes?” I asked.
Beck hopped up from the booth but took another sip of his old-fashioned. “Absolutely.”
Thank God for the distraction. I needed a second to regroup about Evie. Everything in the last few days happened so fast.
I’d never in a million years thought when I popped by to check on her yesterday, courtesy of Abby dropping a clue about Evie at the coffee shop, that we would have slept together.
And it was the best sex I’d ever had.
Next level.
Hot.
Endless.
Everyone always said when the emotional connection was there, it made it a million times more…
Beck slapped the back of my shoulder. “You okay?”
I laughed and shook my head. “Yeah. Totally. Sorry.”
“Like I said, don’t let her being a single mom scare you off.” Beck nodded.
“I never would. You know how much I want a family. Her son is awesome. She’s hands down the best woman out there. I just don’t want to scare her off.” My mind flashed back to what her ex was trying to do.
It wasn’t my place to discuss it with my brother, but I wished I could bounce some ideas off him or round up some extra muscle.
Kidding.
I knew better than that, but it was one of the macho male fantasies to keep me going.
I glanced at the salad bar that made supper clubs around Wisconsin famous.
Crisp iceberg lettuce anchored the selection, flanked by bowls of cherry tomatoes, shredded carrots, and sliced cucumbers. A mountain of croutons and a lineup of creamy dressings—ranch, French, and blue cheese—beckoned like old friends.
It was my kind of dinner.
Alongside the classics were Midwestern staples: coleslaw, potato salad, and a towering stack of pickled beets. But the pièce de résistance? The cold, jiggling trays of neon-orange cheddar cheese cubes and creamy pasta salads whispered pure Wisconsin charm.
We returned to the table as my sisters walked to the salad bar.
When I slid in the booth, Beck smiled. “You slept with her, didn’t you?”
“Dude.” I shook my head, scowling. “What are you talking about?”
“You just seem all protective and like you’ve claimed her.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Claimed her? What is this? The Flintstone Age? First of all, nobody can claim Evie. She’s tough and would probably kick your ass just for saying that.”
My brother laughed and nodded. “Agreed.”
Fifi and Violet came back with their plates piled high and sat down.
“What are we talking about?” Fifi chimed in, looking between Beck and me.
“Trying to see how serious this thing is with Liam and Evie.” Beck lifted his brows and laughed. “It’s not like you weren’t pestering me and Vi earlier at the lodge about him.”
A wry grin spread across Fifi’s face. “You better watch it, or I’ll tell Liam the bet you wanted to place with us.”
I chuckled and took a bite of salad. “What bet?”
“I plead the fifth,” she said, chuckling.
The waitress returned with a platter of fried fish, fried cheese curds, and Beck’s steak. The table buzzed with the clinking of silverware and the passing of plates. We focused on the food for a few moments, but Fifi wasn’t done yet.
“Okay, but what about Red Barn?” she asked, pointing her fork at me.
“Fifi,” Violet interrupted, smirking. “Let the man finish chewing.”
I swallowed a bite of fish and laughed. “I don’t think we’re at the point of discussing logistics yet, but I’ve told her about the cider project. She’s been... supportive. Encouraging, even. She gets it.”
“She gets it because she’s a workhorse herself,” Beck said, nodding. “That woman works harder than anyone I know.”
“And her kid’s great,” I added. “Smart, funny. I love hanging out with him.”
“You’ve hung out with him?” Vi’s right brow lifted.
“Yeah. Several times.”
“I’m sensing a, but ,” Violet said.
“No buts’” I said quickly. “I just... I want to make sure I don’t mess this up. She’s letting me in slowly, but I don’t want to push too hard. She’s got enough on her plate without me adding pressure.”
“You’re not pressure,” Violet said gently. “You’re support. And that’s what she needs. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”
Fifi grinned. “And don’t forget to bring her flowers occasionally.”
Beck snorted. “Flowers? This is Liam. He’ll probably show up with a horse.”
“A really nice horse,” I said deadpan, earning a round of laughter from all three.
The conversation drifted after that, but my thoughts stayed on Evie.
No matter how much I tried to focus on the food or the chatter around me, she was there in the back of my mind.
Her laugh, her smile, how she’d looked at me when I told her I wasn’t going anywhere. I could still feel the warmth of her hand when she’d placed it over mine. It wasn’t just her beauty or her strength—it was everything about her.
“You’re falling hard,” Violet said, breaking into my thoughts.
“Yeah,” I admitted, a slow smile spreading across my face. “I am.”