Chapter 31
Lawson
“Well, this is a disaster.”
“It’s fine,” Jackson counters flatly.
Marigold Darling gives her second-oldest son a look. “The floor is covered in half an inch of standing milk, Jackson. Tell me how that’s fine.”
Jackson unbends to his full height, a mop held in one hand. “We’re handling it,” he answers, waving to the many employees and family members inside the milking barn who are helping clean up the mess made from a burst milk line. “You gonna help, or are you here to tell me I’m doing it wrong?”
Our mom clucks her tongue. “Somebody’s gotta keep everyone in line. Hank! What on Earth are you doing with that shovel?”
As our mom stomps off, her boots splashing through the mess, Jackson shakes his head, grumbling about that ridiculous woman.
Seeing as it’s Saturday, I was free to lend a hand when I showed up at the ranch with the intent to tell my family I’m moving out.
Technically, I’ve been living at Oakley’s for a few weeks now, ever since the aftermath of the crash.
But a good many of my possessions are still here, and it’s about time I face my family to get them.
That’ll have to wait, though. Seeing as we have a milking barn to set to rights.
Colton passes by with a long-handled squeegee, he and a few of the ranchers herding the milk toward a drain at the edge of the room. Remi, like Jackson, is getting the excess with a mop. I’ve got bucket duty. Same as Ash.
“You didn’t have to help with this,” I tell the man. He’s the ranch cook, after all. His duties certainly don’t include…whatever this is.
He lifts one blonde eyebrow, amusement lacing his tone. “Neither did you. But it’s what we do, isn’t it? Help out family.”
I guess I can’t argue with that.
“Cowabunga,” Colton calls, practically running past with his squeegee held out in front of him, trying his best, I think, to make a wave. “Cow-abunga. Get it?”
“My God,” Jackson grumbles, shaking the resulting milk splatter off his muck boots. “Are you a goddamn child? Slow down.”
“Hey, Jackson,” Colton says.
The moment Jackson lifts his head, Colton splashes milk his way.
Jackson goes stock-still, milk soaking into his jeans above his boots. “You did not just do that.”
Backing away, Colton says, “Did.”
“Get over here.”
Colton turns and takes off, Jackson hot on his heels. I shake my head, my younger brothers attempting to bat each other off with the handles of their cleaning implements. A couple of the ranch hands stop to stare. Remi, I notice, has his phone out.
“What’re you doing?” I ask him.
He keeps his eyes on the device. “Recording for Noah.”
“Ah.”
“Colt, I swear to God,” Jackson says at the same time Colton swipes his squeegee handle toward the heels of Jackson’s boots. Jackson goes down, landing on his back, nearly everyone letting out an ooh as he’s covered in milk.
Colton sucks in a sharp breath before wincing. “I, uh… Whoops?”
A long beat of silence passes before Ash heads to Jackson’s side. He holds his hand out, trying to hide the smile on his face but failing terribly. “You did kind of have it coming, Jack.”
With a grunt, Jackson grabs onto Ash’s hand and pulls him down into the mess.
Ash barks a laugh, breaking the tension in the room. The next second, Jackson is on his feet again. He takes off after Colton, whose boots slip around as he tries his best to get out of Dodge.
“Boys!” our mom yells, her hands on her hips. “Were y’all raised in a barn?”
“Help me!” Colton shouts to the room at large.
Remi is laughing uncontrollably, still recording the whole thing. “Oh my God. I’m never deleting this.”
Colton, possibly having heard him or, I don’t know, maybe intending to use his younger brother as a shield, heads in his direction. Remi yelps and runs off faster than I’ve ever seen my brother move.
Ash is still sitting on the floor, laughing and telling Jackson to leave him be. Colton looks scared for his life, as he should. My dad is trying to shovel milk. And my mom unrolls a nearby hose, presumably to break up the scuffle.
“Well,” I mutter to myself, an empty bucket in my hands. “Can’t say it’s not interesting around here.”
Hours later, when I’m washing up in the ranch house, I get a text from Oakley. A smile springs to my lips. He sent a selfie, the man wearing thin-rimmed glasses with a wry expression on his face.
I call, and he answers right away. “Hey, you still at the ranch house?”
“I am,” I tell him. “I take it the eye appointment went well?”
He groans. “Reading glasses, Lawson. I’m getting old.”
“Had to happen sometime, Teach.”
“Nuh-uh,” he says. “That’s your nickname, not mine.”
“If you say so.”
He blows out a breath. “Things go okay with your family?”
“Haven’t told them yet,” I admit.
“No?”
“No. Milk emergency.”
There’s a pause. “Do I wanna know?”
“I’ll have Remi send you the video.”
He snorts. “Want me to come over? While you tell them?”
“No,” I say, although I appreciate the offer. “I’ve got it. Was just washing up first.”
He hums. “Miss you, you know.”
My chest squeezes so fast it takes me a second to breathe past it. “Already?”
“Doesn’t take long. You coming home after?”
Home.
“’Course I am,” I answer. “Where else would I go?”
“I dunno. To your other boyfriend’s?”
“Other?” I question. “You really think I could handle two of you?”
Oakley laughs. “Actually, yeah, I think you could wrangle us just fine.”
“There’s no one else, and you know it,” I grumble in mock-affront.
He huffs another small laugh, but his voice turns serious. “Is that all right? Calling you my boyfriend? Or would you prefer something else to signify our together but…not-dating status?”
I let out my own soft huff. “Boyfriend is fine. Partner. I’m not picky.”
“You are picky, actually. About a lot of things. That’s why I’m asking.”
“And I’m telling you I don’t mind one way or another. So choose.”
“Oh my God,” he says, amusement heavy in his tone. “Are we arguing about this? Really?”
“Of course we are, Oak. We argue about everything. You’re the only goddamn person I argue with.”
“And why is that?” he asks, sounding endlessly fond if not a little curious.
“Because I care about you too damn much not to fight for what’s important.”
My conversation with my dad floats into my mind. I guess I’m a lot more like my parents than I maybe want to admit.
“What’s important,” Oakley repeats, his voice softer than before. “Which would be?”
“You need me to say it?”
“I kinda do.”
I blow out a breath, even as my chest warms. “You, Oak. You’re what’s important.”
“Huh.”
“Huh?”
“I think you, Lawson Darling, might really like me.”
I chuckle, even as my smile slowly slips away. I’ve never said it, have I? I’ve never actually spoken the words.
Oakley knows, though. Doesn’t he?
“You there?” he asks. “You got real quiet.”
“Yeah, I’m here. I, uh… I needa talk to my family. And then I’ll be home. All right?”
“Yeah. See you soon.”
“Soon,” I agree, pulling my phone away from my ear to end the call.
I’ve never said the words…
I find my family out on the back deck, everyone still hanging around after the milking-barn fiasco. Even Colton has yet to leave, although he’s tugging on his boots like he’s getting ready to head over to Noah’s. I clear my throat as I walk up.
“You’re still here?” my mom asks, a glass of iced tea sitting beside her chair.
“I live here, don’t I?”
“Do you?” she counters, a sly gleam in her eye.
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to y’all about.” Taking a beat, I glance around at my family before revealing, “I’m moving out.”
Colton looks from me to the others. “You’re not already moved out?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” I mumble. “I’m moving out officially.”
Remi’s smile is soft. “Good for you, Law.”
Ash, sitting on the armrest of Jackson’s chair, speaks up. “Anything we can help with?”
“I don’t think so,” I say truthfully. “I’ll pack up my clothes and things sometime this week or next. It won’t take long.”
Colton snorts. “No, it won’t. You’ve been migrating over to Oakley’s for a while now.”
Remi tosses a coaster his way, which Colton bats across the deck. “How did you notice that, but you didn’t know they were together?”
“How was I supposed to know!” Colton cries.
I clear my throat again. “I just wanted to say, well… I expect I’ll still be here plenty. For dinners or just to say hi. I won’t be gone for good.”
“We know that,” my mom says, a small smile on her face. “But we’ll still miss you all the same, Lawson dear. Isn’t that right, Hank?”
My dad, who’s weaving what looks to be a hanging basket out of twine in the grass beside the deck, grunts. “Boy’s following his happiness. It’s a damn good thing.”
Everyone nods their agreement.
Well, shit.
After a second, Colton claps his hands together. “Bonfire to celebrate! Tomorrow night? I’ll bring the mallows.”
“You always bring the mallows,” Remi mutters.
“’Cause no one else ever does,” Colton retorts. “Jackson?”
“We’ll be there,” Jackson answers. “That work for you, Law?”
I nod. “I assume Oakley is invited?”
Colton lets out a psht. “Obviously. Hey, is that Benson Harper over at the petting farm?”
All heads swing that way.
It is, in fact, Benson. Although he looks different than I remember. But it’s been, what? Years since I last saw him? He has a beard now. And he looks a good bit bigger. Bulkier.
Remi lets out a garbled sort of choking sound.
“Jesus,” Ash says. “Is he a lumberjack?”
“No, he’s in corporate finance,” Colton says before frowning. “Or he was.”
“Didn’t you used to have a crush on him?” I ask Remi, his reaction sparking a memory. “Back when you were sixteen or so?”
“What?” Remi says quickly. “No. ’Course not.”
Jackson cringes. “Really? He’s my age.”
‘There was no crush,’ Remi snaps with shaky hands. He pushes out of his seat, brushing a quick, ‘Excuse me,’ our way.
A few eyes follow Remi as he heads into the house.
Colton hops up, swiping his hat and fixing it into place. “I’ll go say hello. Tomorrow, Law. Don’t forget.”
“Yep.”
As Colton saunters off, my mom hums. “Well, now. Who’s gonna get dinner started?”
By the time I get to Oakley’s, I’m beat.
I kick my boots off inside the door, drop my keys on the kitchen table, and head to the couch, all but falling into Oakley’s lap.
He chuckles, one hand sifting through my hair as I turn my gaze up to look at him.
He’s not wearing the glasses anymore. They looked nice.
But then again, Oakley always looks nice.
“I realized something today,” I tell him.
He cocks his head, fingers continuing their slow passage through my hair. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“Something I haven’t said.”
“Am I supposed to guess?” Oakley asks, his eyes dancing. “Because that might take a while.”
“No,” I answer softly. “Just…listen, all right?”
His humor fades, giving way to a seriousness as he nods once.
Maybe it’s nothing monumental, this moment on his couch, with fatigue weighing my limbs and Oakley dressed in sweats. But as I told him before, I like ordinary. I like this. And I don’t want to keep any part of myself from him ever again.
“When I was younger,” I start, “folks would always say I’d know what love was because it’d feel different than what I felt for friends. And when I met Laura, it was different than what I felt for you. I just didn’t realize until far too late what that meant.”
Oakley swallows roughly, his hand slowing.
“Oak… I’ve loved you since before I knew what love was. I’ve been trying to pinpoint the time when things changed for me, but…they never did. That’s the thing. I loved you from the very start. Back then. Now. I’m more than certain I’ll love you always. And I haven’t told you that.”
Tears line Oakley’s eyes, ones he doesn’t try to hide. He’s never been afraid to cry in front of me. Oakley knows vulnerability isn’t a weakness. He’s shown that to me time and time again. I think it’s a big part of why I’ve been able to be so open with him in return.
It’s a gift, letting someone see the deepest parts of us. Knowing we’re safe to.
His voice is raspy when he speaks. “Law. You know I love you, too, right?”
“I do.”
“And that’s not going away. Not ever.”
“I know,” I tell him. “It’s not fickle, you and me.”
“No,” he agrees, sucking in a harsh breath. “Can you come up here so I can kiss you?”
The moment I push upright, Oakley’s mouth is on mine. It’s hard, and it’s tender, and it’s all the things I know us to be. There’s a lot that can be said with a kiss.
I love you might just be my favorite yet.