Chapter 22
CARLIE
Isit on a white Adirondack chair next to the Ruby Robbins. Well, Ruby Rawlins now, but still. I’m fangirling so stinking hard, I’m terrified I’m going to make an absolute fool of myself.
“So, you need a gala four weeks from now?” Ruby asks me.
It’s all I can do to nod.
Lawson works fast.
I grip the wine glass she handed me twenty minutes ago when we came outside and left the men to wash up. Merlot. It’s floral and rich. Lovely.
“Do you have any idea of the type of guests you need for the sponsorships? Do you have a curated event list already, or access to one?”
“I—no, I mean, I’m not sure. Serelle seems to play most things close to the vest. But I have contacts from Carlson’s I can use.”
“Great, I have a list, but not everyone on it will be a good fit. We should make a new list. A venue will be the hard part, catering even harder this near to the date.”
“I was afraid of that.” I swirl the crimson liquid in my fine-stemmed wine glass and take a sip.
Ruby gazes into the fire, as if choosing her words carefully. “Laws is just—”
“I know. He’s the kindest man I’ve ever met.
” I hope everything I say isn’t coming out weird or like I’m trying too hard.
I’m not used to the feeling of not being the most successful woman in the room.
As self-centered and shallow as it sounds.
But I’ve been running on defense for so long, this is .
. . nerve-wracking. I lower my gaze to the wine, turning the stem in my hands.
“Hey,” Ruby says softly. “This place, this family. Safe space. The safest. Nothing you do or say will change anyone’s mind about anything. Blanket statement. That should really be a Rawlins Hallmark card.” She scrunches her face at me with a kind smile.
“Thank you,” I breathe, seeing the tangle of emotion lining her eyes. The great Ruby Robbins, who I’ve admired for years, is letting me in. I have only ever known her on a professional level. And like one does when you barely know someone, I assumed her life was brilliant. Perfect.
“Of course.” She studies my face, her brows dropping the slightest bit. “I never knew what family meant until I came out here. Reed gave me that. These people will change your life.”
“From what Lawson tells me . . . you did the same for his brother.”
She huffs a laugh. “Let’s just say we both found what we were looking for.”
“That’s incredible.”
I sigh, tilting my head back to take in the big, beautiful Montana sky riddled with shimmering stars strung across the dark inky blanket.
“Yeah, it is.”
I glance at her, and she’s beaming up toward the man who has appeared behind her, his hands gripping her shoulders, as he leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of her head.
Lawson sinks into the seat by mine. “Get some things sorted?”
“Working out the new guest list options.” In the firelight, I can’t take my gaze from his face as he stares into the flames. “You catch up a little?”
Lawson pulls his focus from the fire. “Yep.”
“Well, we have a big day tomorrow,” Reed says, pulling his wife up and into his chest. “Night, y’all.”
“Night Reedsy, night Rubes.” Lawson smiles up at them.
A heartbeat later, we sit in front of the fire, just the two of us. I down the last of the wine, letting it warm my body as it goes down.
“It’s so beautiful out here,” I say softly.
“Sure is.” Lawson’s gaze is on the whiskey tumbler in his hand.
“Don’t you miss it?”
He chuckles, but it fades. “All the time, but it’s not who I am. At least, not anymore.”
I can understand that. We work hard, sometimes for years, for the lives we want. I know it better than most. And when you finally get to a place where you feel like you can take a breather, it’s worth every hard patch you lived through. There’s something to be said for making a life you love.
I’ve never seen a barn in real life, but this one exceeds every expectation I could have had.
The wide double doors are adorned with so, so many fairy lights.
The long, wide driveway is filling up with pickup trucks at an alarming rate as I lounge on the small porch, rocking in the hanging chair.
This place truly is like something out of a movie.
The door to our cabin creaks open and Lawson appears, our coats in his hand. “Ready for the full Rawlins experience, Princess?”
I stand and close the distance between us.
He cleans up nice. Really nice.
Clean-shaven, his hair a little messier than how he wears it at the office, a pale blue button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves over dark Levi’s, and . . . are those cowboy boots?
“You look edible,” I whisper, running my fingers over his jaw.
His deep blues darken as he slides a rough hand behind my neck, tugging me into his chest. “I could fucking devour you right here.”
“I don’t think the guests came for dinner and a show, Cowboy.”
“Too bad.”
“Isn’t it,” I say pushing a little way away from him. His hand slides from my neck, and he bends his head down. “Party time, snoodlebug.”
“What the hell kind of name is that?” I scoff.
“Pookie bear? Snookums . . . or maybe you’re a sweet cheeks.” The shit-eating grin now splitting his face is contagious.
“I will have you know”—I sway down the few steps on my stilettos, looking over my shoulder—“I am none of those things, Lawson Rawlins.”
His huffy laugh turns strained as I turn at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at him where he now stands on the top step. I blow him a kiss and his jaw feathers. A beat passes and he descends the stairs holding up my coat for me to slide into.
“Are you forgetting something?” I ask.
“Don’t think so. Dressed, shaved, warned the gorgeous girl by my side about my family . . . Nope, I’ve remembered it all.”
“Close your eyes.” I lean down to the bag Ruby dropped off earlier that I hid under the stairs.
“No?”
“Lawson whatever-your-middle-name-is Rawlins. Don’t you deny me a thing.”
A breath chugs from his chest and his eyes fall closed.
I pull out the black hat and slide it on his head. And . . .
Oh. My. God.
Holy shit.
There is no way in hell I’m getting my ovaries back in their cage now. “Open your eyes, Cowboy.”
The small smile that blooms over his face is priceless. It steals what’s left of my resolve when it comes to this man. I thought he was hot in a tie and a rolled-up work shirt with those ropey forearms and that gorgeous hair. Now—
A finger slides under my jaw, lifting it shut.
“I—”
He leans in, cupping my face with his palm. “Thank you.”
Really, the hat was for me.
“What for?” I breathe.
“Reminding me who I am.”
My mouth is agape again. This weekend has been one incredible surprise after another, and we’ve barely started. We have two more nights here. Two more days of this place that feels like another world.
“We should head in there before the girls come out and drag us in.” Lawson adjusts the hat on his head.
“We should.”
He crooks an arm, and this time I take it. Like it’s my god-given place on earth.
We cross the gravel drive, somewhat precariously thanks to my heels, and arrive at the doorway.
Inside is simply magical. Long cream sails are draped across the ceiling with more fairy lights.
Long tables adorned with white tablecloths, cream plates, and silver cutlery with candles and flowers dotted through the center of each.
Acoustic country music weaves its way through the big open space where people mingle, chat, laugh.
I’m jostled when Reed rushes over, sliding an arm around my middle and sweeping me out of Lawson’s space as three women descend on him with more glee than I ever thought possible. “Watch out, or you’ll end up collateral damage,” Reed says with a chuckle.
“Laws!” the three women scream in delight at once, arms reaching as they close in.
Ruby I know.
Grace I recognize.
And the third must be Addy.
He’s smothered in hugs and kisses on the cheek as he tries his best to hug all three tight. I only just make out the choked words that leave his lips. “I missed you guys so damn much.”
If ever there was testament to the shape of a man’s heart, this would be it. Three women who absolutely adore him.
The black hat topples to the ground, and Reed releases me so I can pick it up.
“Nice touch,” he says, winking. His own hat on his head gets a subtle tip as he adds, “Make sure you save me a dance, Miss Carlie.”
Miss Carlie.
He reminds me of Manuel, happiness personified, so I guess it fits.
“Rubes, Gracie, you remember Carlie.” Lawson extracts himself and folds me into his chest.
Ruby rolls her eyes at him with a laugh. Grace says a soft hi and hugs me lightly, kind of sideways.
“Adds, this is Carlie. We work together.” He waves at the pretty brunette with big brown eyes and curly brown hair. “Carlie, this is Addy, Huddo’s wife.”
“Hi, it’s amazing to meet you all,” I say.
“Where is that big brother of mine?” Lawson says.
“Tending the bar tonight with Mack.” Addy nods to a long rustic bar where two cowboys in hats are busy serving drinks. “They lost the toss this year.”
Lawson laces his hand with my own and we wander through the long tables toward the bar. I feel a little out of place in a cocktail dress and heels. But when I take a closer look at Ruby’s outfit, something right off 5th Ave, I feel much better.
One white hat bobs and weaves behind the bar as the man wearing it serves drinks and makes change.
The other, in a black hat, smiles at me and wipes down the counter before tossing the tea towel down and rounding the bar.
“You must be Carlie. The Reed grapevine travels at lightning speed round here. I’m Mack.
” He pulls me in for a hug then fist-bumps his brother.
“Busy as ever, Mackie-boy,” Lawson says with a grin.
Mack points a finger as he returns to his post, his face turning to stone.
“You’re cut off already.” His face splits with a grin as the man I assume is Hudson flicks him on the jaw and comes out from behind the counter, sliding his white hat off with one hand and one-arm hugging Lawson. “Hey bud. So good to see you.”
Lawson pats him on the back, hesitating before he lets go.
Emotion burns behind my eyes. God, he must miss his brothers. His family. And I haven’t even met his parents yet.
“Hey, I’m Hudson. You must be the firecracker who’s keeping Laws on his toes, hey?”
Heat flushes my neck and face. The hell? Since when do I blush at the mention of Lawson?
“Yep, that’s me,” I force out before leaning into Lawson’s side.
Mack hollers for backup, and Hudson glances over his shoulder.
“Y’all have a good night, you hear?” Hudson says with a smile before tapping Lawson’s hat with a finger and wandering back to his station and taking an order.
“Overwhelmed yet?” Lawson asks, bending his head down.
“No.” I’m being honest. I love seeing him in his element. Seeing this side of Lawson Rawlins. It’s endearing.
“Oh my lord! Will you look at that!” A woman’s voice cuts through the air, and we spin back. A blonde woman in her sixties stands by an old cowboy, who looks . . . suspiciously like an older version of Hudson.
“Ma,” Lawson calls, closing the distance as she folds her son into a hug. Even from here, I can tell it’s one of those warm hugs that only a mother can give. That unconditional love makes.
A second later, the old cowboy has his hat in his hand, and Laws moves in for another one-arm hug. This lot are ridiculous. When the hugs are out of the way, his father moves across the floor to where I stand. “Howdy, darlin’. Welcome to the family tradition.”
“Hi, I’m Carlie.” I hold a hand out for him to shake, and he chuckles. A heartbeat later, I’m wrapped in strong arms, looking over his shoulder to Lawson, whose face is utterly amused.
By the look on mine?
“Harry Rawlins, you let that sweet girl go before you suffocate her.” His mother’s smile stretches her face.
Harry releases me with a nod and smile.
“Hun, you look just stunning.” Lawson’s mother casts her eye over my dress.
“Thank you, Mrs. Rawlins.”
“It’s just Louisa.” She pats my cheek like Mills does, and I tamp back the emotion that rises with the gesture.
“Lawson, it’s so good to see you, my boy. You make sure she’s taken care of.” Louisa cups her son’s cheek before following her husband, who is making the rounds chatting to guests.
“Yes ma’am,” Lawson replies a little too late, his gaze stuck on his parents.
I move to his side and lace my fingers with his. “I think I’m in love.”
He drops his head, his mouth brushing over my ear. “That was quick.”
I turn my head to the side so my lips brush his jaw. “With your family, Cowboy.”
He nudges my shoulder with his.
I fight the urge to climb this man like a tree right here and now.
A glass clinks against a well-timed fork, and Lawson ushers me to the head table where his family now sits. Reed stands, a glass in his hand and Ruby by his side, her hand in his as he waits for quiet.
“Thank y’all for coming out tonight. This Thanksgiving gig has kind of become a tradition, and it is our honor to have you all at our table.
Here’s to the people we love. Family.” He looks around our table.
“Friends.” He casts his gaze over the tables and finally says, “And those of you who have chosen to spend your holiday with us. Happy holidays, happy Thanksgiving. Let’s eat! ”
Ruby pushes up on her tiptoes and dots a kiss to his cheek.
They sit as a silver cart rolls out from the door near the bar where I assume the kitchen is.
It reaches the table, and Reed carves the first slice of turkey as waitstaff file from the same door, dropping plates in front of each guest. The chatter quiets as everyone eats.
Dessert arrives twenty minutes after the main meal is done, as if on some silent cue. I can’t believe I am living a Ruby Robbins event. It’s perfection. Between the decorations, the food, the ambiance, and the mood, it’s utterly ethereal.
After dessert, the mood swings and upbeat country songs vibrate through the barn. Lawson’s family are the first people on the dance floor. I scoff a laugh as Harry sweeps the floor with them all. The old man has the moves. He takes Louisa for a turn, and then Ruby.
When he appears at the table, his hand extended to me, I shake my head.
“Come on, darlin’. It’s not a party unless you’re dancin’.”
“Go on, Princess. We can dance later.” Lawson whispers in my ear.
I narrow my eyes at him as I stand and place my hand in his father’s. The smile that spreads on Lawson’s face is worth any amount of songs. Even country ones.
Twirled without warning, I huff a laugh, righting my footwork before Harry slides his arm around my waist. I’m swung around the dance floor as happiness radiates from me with every quick, exuberant breath.
It’s heady and foreign.
Something I can’t control . . .
I love it and hate it all at once.