Chapter 21 #2
Finn was a solid presence at my side, carrying on a conversation with Crew, but frequently checking in with me. Giving me space to navigate this setting on my own but letting me know he was there to lean on if need be. Silently reminding me I could leave if it all got to be too much.
Eventually, though, when the boys had polished off their second helpings and dessert made its way onto plates, conversation turned to me.
“You said you grew up in Tennessee, right?” Aria asked me, the first time since West’s welcome that I’d been addressed directly.
“Yep, about an hour south of Knoxville.”
“How close is that to Nashville?”
All movement, conversation, hell, breathing, at the table stopped in an instant, like all the air had been vacuumed from the room with Aria’s question.
Unperturbed by the silence that followed it, she merely stared at me expectantly, cutting off a small bite of her peach cobbler and putting it in her mouth, chewing slowly.
Clearing my throat awkwardly, unsure of what the hell happened, I said, “About three and a half hours. We’re tucked in the southeast corner of the state, right along the borders with North Carolina and Georgia.”
“I’ve always wanted to move to Nashville,” Aria mused, her lips twisting into a wry smile—almost like she knew her brothers would erupt.
They didn’t disappoint.
Lane: “Absolutely not.”
Trey: “You’re fucking crazy.”
“You’re not moving halfway across the country without any family nearby, Ari,” West grumbled from next to her.
“I personally think she could benefit from getting out of this town,” Aspen said from the other side of Crew, who hummed noncommittally in response.
“Yes, well, no one asked your opinion, little phoenix,” Trey snarled from next to her.
“You don’t get to call her that,” Crew replied lowly.
A nickname from her fiancé, then, I surmised.
“I can’t get my singing career off the ground if I stay here,” Aria said.
“You’re not moving, and that’s final,” Lane said.
“It’s not up to you,” Aria retorted.
“How come you guys didn’t put up this kind of fuss when Owen decided to stay in Michigan when he retired?” Aspen asked.
“Because Owen can take care of himself,” West said.
Aria reared back from him like she’d been slapped.
Angrily, she tossed down her fork and rose to her feet, lifting her hands in the air, middle fingers raised at her outspoken brothers.
“Fuck you.” She spared an apologetic glance for her mom, then Finn, Aspen, and me in turn. “Except you four.”
For the first time, I noticed Finn hadn’t uttered a word in all that chaos.
Then Aria swept from the room, and Birdie made to get up, but Finn waved her off.
“Stay, Mama. I’ve got it.”
With him gone, I wasn’t entirely sure what to do, so I sat there silently.
“I hope you’re happy with yourselves,” Birdie chastised her boys. “For that, you can clear the table.”
“Yes, Mama,” they mumbled, all of them rising and taking their plates to the kitchen before coming back to get the various serving dishes.
“C’mon, my dears,” Birdie said to me and Aspen, getting up and moving over to the small fridge in the corner of the room I hadn’t noticed until now. She grabbed three wine glasses from a nearby sideboard, extracted the Sauvignon Blanc I’d brought, and inclined her head toward the exit.
Aspen and I dutifully followed behind her until we entered a large den-like room, filled with cozy, oversized furniture—likely in deference to the massive men she had for sons.
The mantle above the unlit fireplace was lined with family photos, and I took a moment to study them, lingering on one of the twins as teens, arms slung around each other, dressed in dirty baseball uniforms and grinning ear to ear.
Hanging against the shiplap facade was a candid family portrait, all of them gathered around a football player in the center—Owen, I realized.
The boys were tall, though all gangly limbs, and wide smiles.
Aria was so cute and tiny, barely coming up to Lane’s waist, missing one of her front teeth, hair in little blonde pigtails.
At Owen’s sides, bracketing him, were Birdie and Jace.
“That was the last one we took before Jace died,” Birdie said, catching my attention. “Owen played for the University of Oregon, and that was homecoming his junior season. Jace passed about a month later.”
“The boys look just like him,” I said. Then, glancing at her over my shoulder, added, “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” she said. “It happened a long time ago. Been twenty years now.”
“How did he…”
“Aneurysm. He was out putting up a new fence along one of the pastures with some of the ranch hands. There one second, gone the next.”
“Sudden.”
“Extremely.”
“My parents died suddenly too.”
“How?” Aspen asked.
“Car accident. I—” I hated admitting the next part. Survivor’s guilt was fucking brutal. “I was with them. I lived. They didn’t.”
Aspen gasped, and Birdie crossed the space to pull me into a hug.
“Seems we’ve all lost people we loved very much.”
When I broke from Birdie’s embrace, I nodded, blinking rapidly, willing myself not to cry.
“I don’t know what I’ll do if Lainey doesn’t come home,” I admitted.
“We’ll find her,” Aspen vowed. “I promise you.”
Birdie glanced between us, not saying anything as she reached for the wine and poured out three glasses—draining the entire bottle.
She held hers aloft in front of her, and Aspen and I grabbed our own glasses and met her, clinking them lightly together.
“To strong women,” Birdie said before sipping.
Aspen and I echoed the sentiment and followed her lead.
We made ourselves comfortable, Aspen and I were on one side of the massive sectional with Birdie in a chair across from us.
Seemingly desperate to steer the conversation away from the losses we’d all suffered, Birdie said, “So Aspen, how’s wedding planning going?”
Crew, who had appeared in the archway leading into the den, turned on his heel, attempting to sneak away.
“Not so fast, young man,” Birdie said, snapping her fingers and pointing at the spot beside Aspen. Head hanging, though not seeming too put out to cuddle up with his girl, Crew took a seat.
Finn entered next, beelining for me and taking up a similar position on my other side. I didn’t balk at him slinging his arm along the back of the couch and curling it around my shoulders, or the way he tugged me closer so we were pressed together, his warmth seeping into me.
The rest of the brothers filtered in and took spots on the opposite side of the couch. Nobody else in the room seemed to think anything of my and Finn’s position, as though curl up together like this—like a couple—was the most natural thing in the world.
“How’s Aria?” Birdie asked Finn.
“She’s okay. I talked her off the ledge…for now at least.”
“I’m disappointed in you,” Birdie said with a glare at Trey, Lane, West, and Crew in turn.
“That’s fine,” Lane said. “As long as we’re all in agreement Aria isn’t moving anywhere.”
“We’re definitely not in agreement.”
All eyes in the room swung to the man with his arm around my shoulders.