Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Myles
My hand continued to tingle from the punishing grip Wynn had had on it during the funeral.
The church had been packed, and I’d expected to stand up at the back, but Mae wouldn’t hear of it.
She’d insisted I go with her and the others when the family met at the church.
Then she’d shoved me into a pew after Wynn’s sisters.
I had been on the end, next to Wynn in her simple black dress. On her other side had been Autumn.
Hearing Wynn cry tore my heart to shreds. The sadness lingering over her sisters and brothers hung heavy in the air. Thankfully, that was over, but I’d never regret going.
What a way to live. Darin had made a positive impression on so many people. He’d been the first person to confirm that I was worth more. Part of me had known it, and maybe that was why I’d been so rebellious. So damn angry.
Then Darin had come along, acting like deserving better was a fact for everyone. A church packed on both levels with the doors open and people spilling outside had attested to the same.
I’d driven Wynn and Autumn to the cemetery, where my hand had finally lost feeling for the day.
The reception was pleasant. A table full of bourbon products was available, but no one was drinking even as the sun sank in the sky.
Summer, Tenor, and Autumn beelined in and out of the house, refilling food and drinks.
I’d been quickly introduced to Summer’s boyfriend.
A good-looking guy who’d jittered in his suit like he had a thousand other better places to be.
He’d roamed the reception for a half hour and then made some excuse about an international phone call.
Tate held his baby girl and talked with an old teacher who looked familiar. No one had asked about me or recognized me, and that was just fine. This day wasn’t about me.
Teller and Wynn were talking to people who Wynn had introduced as employees of Copper Summit. There were workers from all the distilleries here. They were all closed for the rest of the week into the weekend.
An older woman who looked vaguely familiar stepped between me and the punch. “How bad do you want to spike this?” she asked under her breath. She shook her head. “Feels disrespectful, but Darin would’ve approved.”
“He would’ve.”
She peered at me, her nose scrunched. She pushed her glasses up. “May I ask…are you Myles?”
I ducked my head, wishing I could tell her it was none of her business and move on. I wouldn’t be rude, for Mae and because this wasn’t the place. It wasn’t this woman’s fault I didn’t care to be recognized. “Yes.”
She put her hand on her heart. “Oh my. I’ve heard about everything you’ve done.
” She nudged my arm and grinned. “Mostly from Darin and Mae. But seeing it for myself is just a dream come true.” She must’ve noticed my lack of recognition.
“I used to work…” A big sigh. “I drove you to the Baileys. That night.”
The night I’d pissed off the self-proclaimed man of the house at the home before the Baileys, and he’d shown me how a fifteen-year-old should behave—with his fists.
I’d gotten good at defending myself. “Katherine.” Her name came to me, along with all the other regrettable details of that time.
I wouldn’t return to the past. I strove to lighten the mood. “Did you call me a dream come true?”
Her serene smile was indeed dreamy. “In that profession, Myles, we never know if we’re making a difference.
You go in so ignorant, so ready to save the world, and then you realize you’re an ant in the entire wilderness.
You feel so lost. So hopeless. Then the kids you try to help grow up, and a lot do so well for themselves.
” Her smile fell. “A lot don’t. But then I get to meet someone like you, who did so well once he got exposed to the right environment, and call it selfish, but it makes me feel like my entire career wasn’t worthless. ”
“It’s not worthless,” I said, needing to clear emotion out of my throat. She was fucking proud of me, and I wasn’t ready for that reaction from people who knew me. “It’s not your fault you don’t get much to work with in a broken system.”
“Oh, Myles.” She ditched her punch and threw her arms around me.
I lifted my gaze to connect with Wynn’s. She sent me an are you okay? look. I nodded and by then Katherine was pulling away.
She dabbed at her eyes under her glasses. “It means a lot to hear you say that.” She patted my shoulder. “Don’t you kids worry. I’ll stick to Mae’s side tonight. You all go do what you need to do.” Then she strode off.
I was puzzling over her meaning when Wynn crossed to me. Her black skirt swished around her legs. Tendrils of hair were falling out of the bun she’d put it in to frame her face.
“Did that go okay?” she asked.
“Fine.” I didn’t care to talk about it, but also, I didn’t know what to say. Katherine had helped me make peace with another portion of my youth. She and others like her who’d tried to help me were just as constrained as I had been.
“Teller said we should go to the distillery and have our own…memorial.”
“A toast to your dad?”
She nodded. “You’re invited.”
I doubted that. “By who?”
She squeezed my elbow, her expression concerned. “Haven’t you noticed they’re not running you out? You’re helping with chores and other work around the place. You’re one of us.” Her grin turned knowing. “But not so much one of us it makes last night wrong.”
Last night had been right in all the best ways. After holding her while she fell asleep, oblivious to the storm, I wasn’t sure how I’d return to Colorado, to the big, open loft, and go to sleep on my own.
Once the quick haze of lust passed, what she said hit me. I was one of them. I doubted that, but her brothers did indeed seem more accepting of me. They’d also had the funeral of their father to contend with, so there was that. More importantly, I wanted to go.
“When do we leave?” I asked.
She smiled. “Now.”
After a ride in the back of Tate’s pickup bed with the wind whipping our hair, we piled into the distillery, leaving all the lights off except one lone light in the bar. Laughter filled the little space. Had it been just yesterday I’d been here with Wynn, getting privately served?
She was behind the bar again, mixing cocktails and taking requests for drinks the others made up.
“I’m not adding an egg,” she declared, shaking her metal container, the ice inside clanging. “Gross, and the house doesn’t have enough bathrooms if I give everyone diarrhea.”
“The alcohol will kill it,” Tate said. He was on a stool, Scarlett perched on his lap. Mae had plenty of hands to help her at the house with the kids. Chance was sleeping over and so was Brinley. Mae had practically demanded it.
“Don’t care. No raw eggs.” Wynn poured out the golden-yellow drink she’d mixed. Something with lemon and honey, two of her favorite ingredients. She added a candied wedge of lemon to the glass.
Tate grabbed one of the glasses and gave the candied lemon to Scarlett. She nibbled the sweet treat, and Tate tracked her moves like he was going to devour her after she finished her cocktail.
Summer made a disgusted noise. “Get a room, you two.” She tipped her head toward Wynn. “You don’t see these two crawling all over each other. You wouldn’t even know one of them wasn’t in their own bed last night.”
Wynn’s eyes flared, and my stomach hit rock bottom. It was one thing to have veiled permission from Mae to visit Wynn in her room during a storm, but the brothers didn’t need to know. Summer knowing was bad enough. Autumn and Junie would just chortle and give us a hard time.
They were quickly becoming my favorites. They stayed out of shit that wasn’t their business.
Teller put his glass down with a thunk. “I didn’t need to know that.”
Tate studied me, his expression unreadable. His wife put her hand on his forearm, and I sat still and waited. Whatever he sent my way, I’d take. I’d been in his sister’s bed the night before her dad’s funeral. That was how he’d see it.
Tate’s gaze shifted to Teller. “Remember when Dad busted you sneaking Becca Smith into your room your sophomore year?”
A beat of surprise went through Teller’s face before he laughed. “Goddamn, I try not to. He made me carry around a baby doll for a week and even woke me up every two hours each night to feed her. ‘You gonna fuck around, you gonna find out, son.’”
Tenor snickered. “Dad was literal about that saying.”
Teller’s grin was wide. “I held on to my V card for two more years, I was so damn scared to get a girl pregnant.”
We all laughed, but more than relief flowed through me.
Tate’s change of subject really was acceptance.
He’d allowed me into his childhood home, under the same roof as his mama and sisters, and he knew I was doing more than reading to Wynn these days, but he wasn’t making an issue of it.
Teller had gone along with it, and well, they’d been more than tolerating me all week.
Wynn slid another glass of her latest creation toward me, then came around the bar. She put a hand on my shoulder, and next thing I knew, I had that sweet ass perched on my lap.
I automatically put an arm around her.
“Jesus, Wynter,” Tate grumbled. “You tryin’ to butter up the next Jim Beam?”
“Jack Daniel’s,” Tenor added.
I rubbed her back. “Nothing’s been offered yet.”
“He had a meeting with Mainline and knocked their socks off,” Wynn added. She squeezed my knee. “Don’t worry. The guys are already working with them. You aren’t competing.”
“They picking you up?” Tate asked. I detected no shrewdness in his gaze, only plain curiosity.
“I haven’t heard. But I haven’t been at work all week.” Except Monday, when a phone call from Gianna had prompted me to call Mae.
“You’ll get it,” Wynn said confidently. “They’re not in the business of making bad decisions, and Foster House is a good decision.”