Three Grumpy Groomsmen

35. Liam

CHAPTER 35

Liam

“Attention passengers on flight 362 to Charleston.”

I tense. I’ve already had one gate change and my flight has been delayed by thirty minutes.

I’ve been deep breathing and telling myself that thirty minutes is no big deal.

I booked this flight last minute so the middle seat in row thirty two wasn’t awesome, but it was no big deal either.

Or so I told myself.

The woman in the aisle seat was a very nervous flyer and her leg closest to mine bounced the entire flight while she ate from her family sized bag of Ruffles, rustling the bag loudly, the strong scent of cheddar and sour cream surrounding me for two hours and twenty-five minutes. But I squeezed my eyes shut and told myself it was no big deal.

I packed in such a rush I forgot my noise-canceling headphones, so I got to listen to the two guys behind me rehash their entire business meeting and what an asshole Larry is and how hot his VP, Hayley, is. But it was no big deal. I said it repeatedly. It had to be true.

“Due to some mechanical issues, we are going to need to change planes. This is going to take us a little time. The flight is now scheduled to depart at six forty-two. If you choose to leave the gate area, please…”

I tune out the rest of the announcement.

Because that departure time is three fucking hours from now.

I already had a three-hour layover here. Now it’s going to be more than six.

This will put me into Charleston after nine p.m.

My “it’s no big deal” mantra is not going to work much longer.

I need to be in Honeysuckle Harbor.

Now.

I never should have left South Carolina in the first place.

What the fuck was I thinking? I finally fell in love, times two , with two people who also love each other, who want to make a life in an awesome little town that has embraced me, made me feel a part of everything, where I’ve been surrounded by family I can imagine sharing everything with from daily chess matches to town-wide Christmas extravaganzas.

I want to sit at the bar at Raw and watch Harrison charming every person who steps inside. I want to be there when Ivy opens her wedding venue. I want to find a show that Ford and I can watch together and geek out over. I want to joke around and tease with them all. I want to fight with them all. And defend them all. I want to have the hottest, dirtiest, most fun sex of my life with them all. I want to sleep late and have lazy brunches that get crashed by their parents.

Fuck my job. Fuck the TV show.

I’ll…write a novel. A sci-fi novel that will hit all the best-seller charts and make me a seven-figure salary of my own.

Or, fuck it, I’ll write a sci-fi novel that only ten people will read, but I’ll love it, Ford will love it, and I’ll let my hot millionaire boyfriend pay my way through life.

I honestly don’t care. As long as I’m with Harrison, Ivy, and Ford.

“Are you okay?”

I open my eyes—I didn’t realize I’d squeezed them shut, imagining Honeysuckle Harbor and my life with my three loves—and relax my death grip on the arms of the chair I’m sitting in.

A little boy is staring at me. He’s probably about eight. He’s holding a cinnamon roll from the shop across from our gate with both hands. He’s also wearing a T-shirt with an alien on the front. It’s not from my show, but it still feels like a sign. Because the alien has a phone to his head (he doesn’t really have ears) and is saying, “No intelligent life detected here.”

An alien, on a phone, calling me stupid.

Yep. That’s a sign.

“Yeah,” I tell him. “Pretty much.”

“You look like you have a bad headache,” he informs me.

Well, that’s insightful. “I do,” I admit. “But I’ll be okay.”

“My dad says airports always give him a fucking headache,” the boy tells me.

I lift a brow, but his dad isn’t wrong. I’d guess ninety percent of the people inside this building have a headache right now.

“Want my cinnamon roll?” the kid asks.

Kind of. But I can’t take his cinnamon roll. “Nah, but thanks.”

He shrugs. “K, but they’re pretty good.”

“Maybe I’ll go get one in a bit.”

He seems to believe I’m going to make it at that point. “K, bye.” He heads toward the row of chairs that look out over the runways, climbing up between a man and a woman.

I sigh, then pull my phone out. I open a text and type, “Hey, just need to let you know, I quit. Sorry. We can talk in a couple of days.”

Then I send it to Andrew.

I love my job. I’m proud of my job. I’ll never get to do something like that again.

But as soon as I press send, I feel a weight lift.

I’ll also never feel the way I do about Ivy and Harrison again, and I’ll never find a situation like what I’ve got waiting for me in Honeysuckle Harbor again.

I can write other things.

My phone dings and I open my messages.

But it’s not Andrew. It’s Sam.

You still in Denver?

Sam insisted on picking me up from the airport when I sent him my itinerary. I figured someone should know where I was and since Ivy, Harrison, and Ford had lost their phones to the FBI, Sam made the most sense.

Yeah. Fucking mechanical issues. Sorry. I’ll text once I’m on board.

Nothing to worry about. It’s all going to be fine.

I appreciate that. But I’m not going to totally feel that until I’m back at Harrison’s house with my three people around me.

Get one of those cinnamon rolls while you wait. I don’t know what they do but airport cinnamon rolls are the best.

I blink at his message. I glance toward the kid by the windows.

Wait, was the cinnamon roll the sign and not the alien?

Like a sign that everything is really pretty simple and sweet?

Fuck if I know.

My phone dings again. Oh, good. Maybe Sam can follow up on his words of wisdom.

But it’s not Sam. It’s Andrew.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?

I look over at the cinnamon roll shop. Maybe I should get a cinnamon roll before I reply. Maybe I’m fucking this all up.

Another text comes in.

YOU CAN NOT QUIT. I DO NOT ACCEPT YOUR RESIGNATION!!!!!!!!!

Are you aware your caps lock is on?

I’M FUCKING YELLING AT YOU!

Okay, then.

My phone rings. Now Andrew is calling. I grimace and answer. “Hey. Before you say anything, it’s a done deal. I’m half-way back to South Carolina.”

There’s a pause on his end, then he says, “So what?”

I frown. “So, I need to be in South Carolina, Andrew. My…family is there. That’s where I need to be. I’m relocating.”

Again he asks, “So what?”

“So I can’t keep writing for a show in California!” I snap. I realize I raised my voice when several fellow travelers glance over. I lower my voice. “You know I love the show, and honestly, if you give Marley’s character to Gwyneth, I’ll hate you forever, but, I can’t do it.”

“You wrote this entire new storyline from South Carolina, right?” he asks.

“Well…yes.”

“So obviously you can do it.”

“But I can’t keep doing it.”

“Why not?”

I frown. “What do you mean? I can’t be in the writer’s room in L.A. if I’m living in South Carolina.”

“You can write from South Carolina,” Andrew says. “Obviously. You can join video calls. And surely you’d be willing to fly in once or twice a month for a couple of days, right?”

My heart starts hammering. “Well…yes.”

“Then I don’t see a problem. You’ve been with the show long enough that you know everyone, you know the show, you know how we work.” He sighs. “I’m not saying it’s ideal, but it’s a hell of a lot better than losing you. We need you, Liam. You’re way too important to the show to just let you go without at least trying to make it work.”

I don’t know what to say. I sit, staring at the flat gray carpet in front of me, processing his words.

I’m too important.

They need me.

They don’t want to lose me.

Well…fuck. That’s amazing.

“Liam? Are you there?”

“Yes,” I manage. “Yes, I’m here. I…thanks.” I clear my throat. “I appreciate all of that.”

“So if you can work remotely, if we fly you in just as needed, you’ll stay on?”

“Yes,” I tell him. “Of course. I definitely want to try that.”

“Thank God.” He actually sounds relieved. “Okay. Fuck. I thought I was going to have to tell Chris and Bruce you were out. They would have wanted to kill me.”

Chris and Bruce are the executive producers. Chris is also the actor who plays Captain Daniels.

I feel myself smiling. “Thanks, Andrew. I appreciate it.”

“I don’t know what exactly is going on in South Carolina, but Toby said it has to do with Ivy,” Andrew says.

Everyone on the show has met Ivy. She’s visited me on set and has been to a couple of parties. They all, of course, loved her.

“It does,” I tell him. “We’re together. In love. I…plan to marry her.” That’s the god’s honest truth.

“Good for you,” Andrew says and I can hear the sincerity in his voice. “That’s a pretty damned good reason to uproot your life.”

I smile. The thing is, I feel like I’m actually putting roots down.

We disconnect and I stretch to my feet. I think I need a cinnamon roll.

I’ve just taken my place at the back of a surprisingly long line when I hear, “Liam!”

That sounds like…

I turn and see Ivy running toward me.

I feel like the oxygen just got sucked out of my lungs. What the hell? How is this possible?

She darts around a family with two suitcases, two toddlers, and a stroller—seriously, how do people travel like that?—almost plows over a businessman who is too caught up in talking on his phone to notice her, and then is there, throwing herself into my arms.

“Liam! Oh my god!”

I catch her, squeezing her tightly to my body, but over her shoulder I see Harrison jogging toward us.

My heart does a double-flip.

“What are you doing here?” I ask against her hair, taking a deep breath, inhaling her scent.

I let her go as Harrison joins us. “Jesus, you’re fast,” he tells Ivy. “You didn’t even give me a chance to get my shoes back on after security.” Then he meets my gaze. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I frown. “You went through security? You had to take your shoes off?”

“They make people take their shoes off if they’re not pre-screened,” he says.

I roll my eyes. “Yes, I’m aware. When has that ever happened to you?”

“When I fly into an airport in a private plane, but have to get to my boyfriend who is flying commercial out of an entirely separate terminal, so I have to buy a brand new ticket and don’t have time to give them all the pertinent information.”

I look from him to Ivy. “You had to buy tickets to get to this gate?”

She nods. “But he didn’t buy anything. Ford did.”

I look past her just as Ford comes jogging up. “Jesus, you two. You couldn’t have waited three minutes?”

“It’s not our fault you look sketchy and had to be patted down,” Harrison says.

I look from him, to Ford, to Ivy. I can’t believe they’re here.

In Denver .

“What…how…what the hell are you doing here?” I ask. “How did you even know where I was?”

“Sam,” they all say together.

“We intended to come all the way to L.A.,” Ivy adds.

“We would have done it two days ago, but we got a little held up,” Ford says.

“The FBI,” I say. “I heard.”

“I can’t believe we missed your calls and texts,” Ivy says. “I’m so sorry. We felt awful as soon as you left, but they showed up, literally minutes later.”

“Sam filled me in,” I tell them.

“But what are you doing in Denver?” Harrison asks.

He hasn’t said anything about being sorry or missing me. He also hasn’t touched me yet. I can see wariness in his eyes. But also hope.

I step in closer to him. “I was on my way back to Honeysuckle Harbor.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s where I want to be. Where I need to be.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s where the loves of my life are,” I say simply. “Because being there with them…with you …is more important than anything in L.A.”

The wariness is starting to melt away. The hope is blooming in his eyes and there’s heat there too. “What about your job? The money? The awards?”

“I quit.”

Now he steps closer to me, and there’s a little growl in his voice. “For me?”

I nod. “And for Ivy.”

He reaches up, cupping the back of my neck. “Fuck, Liam. I love that. But I hate that.”

“Well…” I say.

He hesitates.

“They won’t let me quit. They’re insisting I stay on. Work remotely from South Carolina. I’ll have to fly to L.A. periodically for a couple of days at a time. But I’ll be living, permanently, in Honeysuckle Harbor.”

He draws in a deep breath. “Thank God.”

“Yeah?” I ask, no longer fighting my smile.

“Yeah. I want you to be happy,” he says, with an intensity I’m not expecting. “I really do. I want it to be with us, but it kills me to think that you might be giving something up.”

“If I’m with you all, I have everything I really need. We’ll figure the rest out.”

He takes another deep breath, then blows it out. “Tell me I get to fly you back and forth. And come with you some of the time. That you’re going to take my fucking money and let me take care of you that way.” His voice is low. And a little bossy.

I lift an eyebrow. “No.”

His eyes narrow.

“The show will be flying me back and forth,” I say. “As they should. But, I’ll let you pay to keep an apartment there. An even nicer one than what I have now. With a much bigger bed. And a huge shower.”

When he growls and pulls me close this time, I let him.

He covers my mouth with his, kissing me deeply, thoroughly, pouring all of his relief and possessiveness and love into it.

As our mouths move together, I reach out and grab our girl, pulling her into our arms. Harrison gathers her close too, and I turn to kiss her as well.

Ivy arches close, kissing me hotly, letting me taste her fully.

When I finally release them both, they’re breathing hard, their faces flushed.

Just the way I like them.

“Um, are you still in line?”

I look over Ivy’s shoulder at the woman standing behind us. A glance in front shows the line for the cinnamon rolls is gone. We’re up.

I grin at her, then down at Ivy, then up at Harrison, then over at Ford, who is watching us with his hands in his pockets, a contented smile on his face.

I nod. “Yeah.” I move us to the counter, not letting go of either of them fully.

“What can I get you?” the woman behind the counter asks.

“A cinnamon roll,” I say. “The biggest you’ve got. Lots of icing.”

She looks at the four of us. “Just one?”

I nod with a grin. “Yeah. We’ll share.”