Page 69 of Love You Always

CHAPTER 34

Archer

One WeekLater

“Come on.”

I look up from my desk, where I’ve been sitting since I last had to use the bathroom, approximately four hours ago. Other than that, I have no idea what time it is. Darkness fell on the vineyards outside my window hours ago, and once day turned to night, I didn’t much care about the time.

In fact, it felt like a relief from the relentless sunny day, which challenged me to be in a better mood. Fuck that.

For the past week, I’ve spent every day at work for twelve hours at a stretch, and I’ve spent every night alone in my house nursing a glass of whiskey before passing out from sheer exhaustion.

Lather,rinse, repeat.

The ritual has done little to keep my mind off Ella, but it’s the best I can do. Beatrix hasn’t rebooked the venue to host Ella’s wedding but maybe she still will. Every day or so, I log in and check the events schedule. So far, nothing.

Then I let my mind wander to Fiona and how much I love being her uncle. It wanders further to what it would be like to be a father, to take care of Ella and a baby. A part of me wants to do it. That part is my heart.

It wants me to call Ella my wife. Be a father toourkids, adopted or not. Build a life with them. Take care of something so small and give it the kind of love and attention my siblings and I never got. Teaching a kid to play ice hockey. How to grow grapes.

Another, louder part, is still telling me I am no different from my father. I work all the time, and I have a responsibility to my family to keep the legacy of Buttercup Hill alive. I’ve always listened to that part—my head—and so far, it hasn’t steered me wrong.

Has it? Is this really where I want to be?

“Come on where?” I grumble, not bothering to look up at Jax. The rumble of his voice is almost as surly and gruff as mine, so I recognize it without laying eyes on him. He sounds annoyed, and annoyed is the last thing I feel like dealing with right now. “Actually, never mind. I’m not going anywhere.”

To prove that, I start moving piles of papers around on my desk, still refusing to look at my brother.

“Field trip.” This voice is unmistakably Dash’s, and I growl with annoyance.

“Oh great, now you’re ganging up on me?”

But when I look up, I see my brothers standing in the doorway of my office, joined by Ren and a few guys I don’t recognize initially. Jax takes a step inside closer, and I get a better look at who’s behind him—none other than Grimm and Yancy, the starting defenders on the Oakland Otters.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask, trying to recall whether Iaccidentally agreed to accompany Ren and his teammates on a trip someplace. As though that’s something I’d do. Just proves how out of sorts I am right now.

“Like he said, field trip.” Jax points to Dash, who I then notice is standing next to the Otters’ enforcer, Skinner.

“Fine.” I push the papers to the side and stand up from my desk, lacking the energy to argue with them. Jax can be as stubborn as me if he wants, so the easiest path will be to get this little outing over with so I can go back to brooding at my desk in peace.

Outside, an Otters’ team bus idles in front of the old brown barn. Suddenly, this seems more like a kidnapping than a field trip. I shoot Ren a look. “What’s this about?”

“Team captain called a last-minute training session. You’re coming. Get on the bus.” Given that Ren is the captain, I know he’s up to something, but my brain is too exhausted to conjure up ideas about what it could be.

“Seriously? You’re kidnapping me?”

“Seriously. We’re inviting you to join us.”

Shaking my head, I walk toward the open door of the bus, feeling a gust of cool air from inside blast into the dry Napa heat. “Fine.” If they feel like dragging me to a cold rink to watch the Otters practice, fine. I can think of worse ways to spend an afternoon.

Ren gets on the bus in front of me and points to a seat near the front of the bus. “All yours.”

I start to protest because I can find my own damn seat, but he blocks the aisle until I sit. Shaking my head, I grumble and take the seat nearest the window, half expecting him to drop into the seat next to me like a babysitter, but he drops a brown paper bag on the seat instead and goes to another seat further back.

The rest of the guys file onto the bus, not paying particular attention to me, which puts me in a marginally better mood. Jaxsits across from me and gestures to the bag. “You gonna open that?”

Looking at his seat, I notice he has his own bag. As I unroll the top of mine, he does the same. I lift a cold six-pack from my bag and a can of Pringles.

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