Chapter 39 #2
After the ceremony, we spent far too long posing for pictures.
Reagan, still in a cast for at least another three weeks, felt horrible she’d been unable to photograph the wedding as promised.
Thankfully, she found a suitable replacement in Sloane Wilder, a friend of a friend who Reagan had followed on Instagram for ages whose work greatly impressed her.
After perusing her profile and a lengthy phone call, Aspen agreed.
Once we were released from picture duty, we headed over to the reception. The barn looked better than it ever had. The wedding forced us to finally deep clean it, something that hadn’t happened in years.
“You know,” Mama mused as we gathered around the long table reserved for Crew and Aspen’s immediate family, which included the seven thousand members of the Lawless family…and Aspen’s parents. Mama continued, “Now that it’s all spiffed up, we could rent this out to the public for events.”
West and I shared a look over her head.
Guarantee she’s been sitting on this idea for ages and waiting for tonight to spring it on us.
No doubt, I silently agreed. But you have to admit…it’s a damn good one.
Though West and I were co-managing partners of the ranch, each of our family members held a stake beyond the parcels of land we each owned.
Next to me and West, Mama’s share was the largest, and West and I would do whatever it took to make her happy.
That’s how we ended up with fields of flowers and soybeans, goats, and bees so she could start making self-care products.
Out loud, West said, “We’ll talk this week.”
Mama beamed, knowing it was already a done deal.
“And on that note, can I talk to you guys about something?” Aria asked.
We all stilled. Aria’s tone was far different from Mama’s—nervousness creeping into her voice.
“What’s up?” Owen asked.
With a deep breath, eyes squeezed shut, Aria blurted, “I’m moving to Nashville.”
Immediately, expletives and refusals spilled from Trey, Lane, and West’s lips.
“It’s already done,” Aria said, loud enough to be heard over them. “I already paid the deposit, and first and last months’ rent on an apartment.”
“I can get it back,” Lane said, pulling out his phone as if to make the call right then. “Give me a name and number.”
Aria shook her head. “I don’t want you to get it back. I’m moving, and that’s the end of it.”
“That’s hardly the end of it,” Trey gritted out, then looked at Mama. “Did you know about this?”
“Of course,” she said. “I helped her find a place.”
“And you’re just…letting her go?” Lane asked, incredulous.
“Like I just let you boys go off to college?” she said with a raised brow to Trey and Lane, then cut to me and West. “And let you two go to war?” Pursing her lips, she glared at each of us in turn.
“And I surely let Owen send us hundreds of thousands of dollars over the years to keep this family and ranch afloat!”
Mama rarely got worked up about anything; she was as even keeled and steadfast as they came. But right now, she was pissed.
“I don’t let any of you do anything,” she continued.
“The second you turned eighteen, you became adults. And while I’ll always be your mother and always want to parent you in the way I think is best, you’re a stubborn lot who does whatever they feel like.
So while I am nervous and will worry constantly about Aria,” she said, taking her only daughter’s hand and giving it a squeeze, “I would be the worst kind of parent if I didn’t do everything I could to support her while she chases her dreams—just like I did for all of you. ”
Honestly, I couldn’t have said it better myself, and what I’d been trying to implore my brothers to understand the first time Aria brought up the idea of moving.
Lane looked at Aria. “You really want this?”
Aria didn’t waver in stance or tone when she said, “Yes.”
He shared a look with Trey and West, the three of them coming to some silent agreement. Then Trey said, “I guess we’re taking a trip to Nashville.”
Aria groaned, knowing we were about to make a whole fucking production out of her cross-country move.
Reagan let go of my hand to pull Aria toward the bar, presumably talking to her about Tennessee and how much she was going to love living there.
I never wanted Reagan to feel like she was giving up everything—her entire life in the only place she’d ever known—for me, so I’d always planned to encourage frequent trips back, going along as often as I could.
But now that my sister was moving that way, it gave us even more of a reason to make those trips happen.
Soon, guests started pouring through the open doors, and I was drawn further away from Reagan, into conversation with a few of Lane’s deputies—the ones Crew could stand—and Crew’s work buddies.
“How’s Reagan doing?” Tuck asked. Momentarily confused, I frowned at him. Then it dawned on me that though they hadn’t been on shift when the call had gone out about Reagan’s accident, Crew’s entire team had shown up to help.
“Better,” I said. “She’s still got her cast on, but she’s on the mend.”
“Any idea who ran her off the road?” Childers asked.
I shook my head. “Lane is still looking into it, but there wasn’t a whole lot to go on. Big, dark-colored trucks with huge grills and brush guards are a dime a dozen around here.”
“True enough,” Burns piped in. “Well, I hope they catch the son of a bitch who’s been tormenting her. You think it’s the same guy who took her sister?”
“We’re not sure,” I replied evasively. Anyone could be listening. The unsub could be standing ten feet away from me and I’d never know it.
Tuck grinned knowingly. “We get it. Information is on a need-to-know basis.”
“Exactly.”
Before conversation could turn elsewhere, Aria’s voice rang out across the barn.
“If you’ll all find a seat, the bride and groom are about to make their grand entrance!”
Everyone scrambled toward tables, though we all remained standing. I found Reagan deep in conversation with Mama, but they stopped talking when I appeared and wrapped my arm around my girl’s waist.
“What mischief are you two getting into?” I asked softly, eyes darting between her and Mama.
“We were talking about her barn venue ideas,” Reagan replied. For the first time in a long time, there was a glint of excitement in her eyes. “I offered my services.”
“Services?”
“Photography, duh.”
I pinched her backside as punishment for the sass but said, “How’s that going to work?”
“Well, if I’m making Dusk Valley home, I’m going to need to find work—”
“You don’t have to,” I cut in quickly.
She glared, as if she’d ever let me support her. I held up my free hand in surrender. Fair enough. The truth was, Reagan’s self-sufficiency and at times reckless independence was one of the things I loved most about her.
“I figured, if we’re going to open the barn up to events, it might be a good idea to offer up a photographer as well. A sort of package deal.”
“That is genius,” I agreed, kissing her soundly.
Reagan beamed.
Crew and Aspen finally entered to raucous cheers and whistles, the sound system we’d installed around the barn for tonight booming out some high-bass song I’d never heard before.
Dinner and speeches passed without incident.
At last, the real party began, kicked off by Aria, serenading Crew and Aspen through their first dance with “Something I Need” by OneRepublic.
Once the rest of the guests were welcomed to the floor, I extended my hand to my girl and spun her around. Despite her cast and missing sister, Reagan seemed genuinely happy, and it made me happy to see her letting loose and enjoying this night.
Tomorrow, we’d go back to work on locating Lainey.
Tonight, we were simply two people in love, celebrating the union of my baby brother and his bride.
Other men—particularly the single ones—routinely cut in on my dancing time with Reagan, twirling away with her. Normally, it would’ve pissed me off, but I knew Reagan would be ending the night with me and was mine forever.
While Burns, Childers, Tuck, several of Lane’s deputies, and even a ballsier few of my ranch hands took their turns with my girl, I danced with Aria when she wasn’t singing, Mama, Delia, Aspen, and even Sutton.
When the band started strumming another slow song and Aria returned to her place at the mic, I stole Reagan back from Tuck.
Her cheeks were flushed. Tendrils of hair had escaped the simple twist she’d pulled it into at the base of her skull, sticky with sweat and clinging to her forehead and temples.
I brushed them away as Aria started to sing a Shania classic. “Hey, belle.”
She grinned in response, her expression alight with pure joy. “Hey, soldier.”
For a moment, we swayed to the beat. With her in my arms, her chin on my shoulder—even her casted arm tucked awkwardly between us—I couldn’t remember a time when I’d ever been happier.
“What do you think?” I murmured in her ear before I could stop myself. “Think you want to get married some day?”
She pulled back, eyes dancing with mischief as she replied, “If the right man asks.”
I chuckled. “Honey, I’m the only man.”