Page 116 of Pour Decisions
When she was once again on her feet, pants back in place, my cock tucked safely away, I answered her question with one of my own.
“Does it matter?” I said. “To me, home is wherever you are.”
“You ready?” Delia asked me.
It was Saturday, and we stood in the foyer of the distillery, facing the doors. Outside, people milled around, chatting excitedly as they waited for us to welcome them in.
“As I’ll ever be,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze.
“It’ll be great, QB. Everyone is going to love it.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said.
I’d never been nervous before opening a business. None of them had ever meant so much. It had been a pipe dream until Delia came along and made it possible, not just with the land, her marketing expertise, and keen eye for design, but by beingher. By giving me something to live for again, by giving me someone to share my life with.
With a final pulse of her fingers against mine, Delia pulled free and approached the door, swinging it wide and shouting, “Welcome to Unlawful Distillery!”
The crowd outside sent up a cheer and they all descended, rushing past Delia to get inside and scope the whole place out.
We’d disinfected the anal couch, though the fucking cavemanin my chest wanted to throw a sign on it commemorating what exactly happened there as I watched people move near it.
Finally, after a mass of friends swept past us, Delia’s family crossed the threshold, each of her sisters wrapping us in hugs, her mom kissing my cheek, her dad enthusiastically shaking my hand.
“You did good, son. With this”—he gestured to the building—“and with her.”
“I love her,” I said simply.
“Good enough for me,” Leon said, clapping me on the shoulder as he moved past me, following his wife toward the bar.
“How come it’s good enough for him whenyousay it, but when I tell him I love Amara, it’s, ‘get out of my face, Ryder’?” Cal whined, and Amara and I both broke into laughter as she pulled him past me.
There were still quite a few people outside, and I blinked rapidly when I swore I recognized one of those heads. Before I could investigate further, Delia clasped my forearms and turned my back to the door.
“I have one more surprise for you,” she said, “and I need you to not get mad at me for keeping it from you, just like I promise not to get mad at you for lying to me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I invited a few more guests,” she said, inclining her head behind me.
“Hi, baby,” my mom said when I spun and came face to face with her.
“I—what?” I glanced between her and Delia, my brain short-circuiting. “What?” I repeated.
“Your girl called us,” my mom said, tucking herself into my side. “Since you didn’t invite us yourself.”
My eyes widened, all the blood draining from my face as I stared at Delia, a million apologetic words sitting on the tip of my tongue.
“Like I said,” she told me. “I’m not going to get mad at you for lying to me.”
“I love you,” I told her before wrapping my arms fully around my mom and squeezing her tightly, my eyes closing as I let her familiar, soothing lavender scent wrap around me. They quickly popped open. “Wait, what do you mean ‘us’?”
“Just your siblings!” my mom said happily, letting go of me as my brothers and baby sister filtered through the open door.
I was instantly engulfed in a mass of limbs, each of them wrapping themselves around some part of me, our mob morphing into my favorite—and deeply missed—group hug.
At last, they let me go, and I stared at them all in shock.
At Trey, who could’ve been my twin even though he was almost two years younger, his hair the same shade and damn near the same length, the Lawless Ranch hat settled backward atop it the twin to mine.
