Page 71 of Meet Me in the Vines
Donovan guides me up the steps with his hand on the small of my back. Grace extends her arms and gives me a proper greeting.
“Audrey, sweetheart, thank you so much for coming. We are so glad you are home,” she croons. Grace kisses both of my cheeks and leads me up the remaining steps, taking me from Donovan. Bergamot and floral perfume flood my nose. It’s a comforting scent—I wonder if my mom would smell the same way. Do all moms smell like a warm hug?
Kerry and Wyatt pull me into their arms and squeeze me in a group hug, coercing an earnest giggle from my lips. “Welcome back, Audrey. Happy you’re here,” Wyatt says with a tight-lipped grin. “It’s about time!” Kerry beams. My eyes dart between their faces. I see so much of Donovan in them. The thick chocolate locks, the olive skin that’s kissed by the sun, the piercing deep blue eyes they’ve inherited from their mother.
I can see the tight bond of brothers as Donovan pulls them into a raucous group hug, kissing the tops of their heads. The affection between them is heartwarming. I’m hit in the chest with the teeniest pang of unexpected envy, wishing I had a sibling bond like that. Being an only child is lonesome, but I dealt with it. I had Gran and Pop, and that was enough for me.
I round the doorway, landing me face to face with Caleb King. It takes a second, but his stoic expression morphs into a tight-lipped smile as he reaches his hand out to shake mine. I hesitate, but I clasp my hand in his, giving him the most awkward hand shake of my life.
“Thank you for coming, Audrey. We are happy to have you here with us,” he says flatly.
“Thank you, Mr. King,” I reply politely. He puts his hand up to me and shakes his head. “Please, call me Caleb,” he insists, and I match his tight-lipped smile with a nod.
Donovan’s hand finds mine as he locks eyes with his dad. There’s a tension in the air that you can cut with a knife. I can see why Donovan doesn’t talk much about his dad. This vibe isweird.
They stand there, staring at each other, mirroring each other’s expressions. It’s like a calculated chess game, waiting for your opponent’s move to counter attack. I nudge Donovan subtly with my hip, shaking him out of this weird stand off.
“Son, good to see you,” Caleb utters, keeping his hands by his side. “Sir,” Donovan replies curtly, quickly ushering us past him through the front door. Once inside the foyer, I look at Donovan, surveying the scowl carved on his face.
“Donovan, what was that?” I ask, curiously. He grumbles, continuing to lead me further into the house. I take that as a sign to drop it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
AUDREY
My eyes feast on the King’s grand kitchen, seamlessly flowing into the living room. Rustic exposed wooden beams crisscross the lofty ceiling, while a soft ember glows from the brick fireplace, establishing it as the heart of the entire first floor. I can imagine the King brothers gathered in front of it as kids on Christmas morning, laughing and smiling as they open gifts from Santa.
Intricate hallways and doors weave through the space like a labyrinth. Every wall is adorned with family photos, landscape paintings, and travel souvenirs. It’s like stepping into a warm embrace at every turn, with gentle lines and curves creating a welcoming atmosphere. The home exudes affluence without a hint of pretension.
My gaze draws to a charming set of French doors, flanked by towering arched windows leading to the backyard—a place I hold dear. The corner of my lip tugs as I sip my Sauvignon Blanc, imagining a teenage Donovan pulling me through a sea of people, eager to get me alone and away from the chaos.
My eyes flit to Caleb and Grace through the window, grilling steaks and vegetables with Wyatt. I insisted on helping with dinner, but Grace politely declined and told me to just enjoymyself. So here I am, soaking it all in as Logan and Donovan drink wine and laugh loudly on the couch in the living room.
I love seeing their dynamic together. His best friend, his brother from another mother. After losing James, Logan was there for Donovan every day that passed. When Donovan missed a week of school after James died, Logan did, too. Everyone knew them as brothers.
My heart tugs, thinking about my best friend Tia. Logan and Tia ended up at the University of Texas together—they’ve been thick as thieves since freshman orientation. Small town kids stick together. I would hear of their adventures and shenanigans, secretly envious of their freedom.
I’m quietly sipping my wine when a bouncing ball of sunshine plops beside me on a bar stool. “My brother shouldn’t be leaving you here all alone. That makes him a bad host.” Kerry flashes his bright white teeth and nudges his elbow into mine. My eyes flit to Donovan and Logan, talking wildly with their hands. They throw their heads back into hysteria. Kerry turns back to look at them, his eyes rolling at the sight, but not a hint of jealousy when his lips turn up at the corners.
“I swear, those two could crack each other up watching water boil,” Kerry huffs. I snicker into my drink.
“I think it’s cute. They clearly missed each other,” I reply, shrugging my shoulder while taking another sip of wine.
Kerry’s eyes soften when he meets my gaze. “Sure, but not the way he missed you,” he croons.
My cheeks flush with heat, completely enamored by his sweet comment. The Kings wear their emotions on their sleeves. They are fiercely loyal and love hard. It would be a dream to be a part of this family. The more I sit with it, the more I want it to happen. Is it too soon to say that? I wouldn’t mind having Kerry King as my little brother.
“Oh! Wait here,” Kerry says, disappearing down a hallway. He’s back before I have a chance to take another sip of wine, jogging over to me with his tongue sticking out like a golden retriever, holding a black book. I tilt my head curiously as he settles back in on the stool next to me. His smile is contagious, just like Donovan’s. I suddenly realize that I’m beaming like Kerry. Maybe this is the King effect.
He slides the black book in front of me, and my fingers trace the stitching on the bottom.
For our favorite girl, Violet Winthrop.
“I wanted to give it to you sooner, but now that you’re home for good, I thought this was a good time,” he pauses. “Youarehome for good, right?” he asks sweetly. I glance at Donovan in the living room, his eyes crinkled, dimples on full display. Our eyes meet for a moment, giving me a wink before continuing his conversation with Logan.
I sip my wine, my smile widening against the brim of my glass. “Yeah. I’m home for good,” I reply, my heart squeezing the moment the words leave my lips. Kerry smiles like Donovan, minus the dimples. “Good. Open it,” he beams, leaning on his elbow with his eyes glued to mine.
I place my wineglass down and rake my fingers along the edges of the book. I open the book to see Gran’s sweet smile beaming up at me. It’s the photo that Kerry took of her at Siren’s Flask. Her smile instantly fills my heart. I wish more than anything that she was here with us right now.
