Page 104 of A Vine Mess
“Bourbon?” he asked.
“You think I’m drinking any of the swill they call wine in this place?”
Liam barked out a laugh and pressed a kiss to my hair. “Fuck, I love you. I couldn’t survive this without you.”
“Stick with me, Wills. I’ll protect you.”
“Three!” someone shouted from nearby, and Liam’s head whipped toward the sound, his smirk blooming into a full blown, face-splitting grin.
“Gramps!” Liam yelled back, sounding like a little boy being reunited with one of his favorite people after a long time away.
And I supposed, in a way, that was exactly what was happening.
“There’s my favorite grandson!” Liam’s grandpa boomed ashe waded through the crowd, quite literally shoving people out of the way to wrap his grandson in a hug. After clasping him for probably longer than was proprietary for two grown men to do, Liam pulled away and studied him, giving me a chance to do the same. Though he had to be in his late-seventies or early eighties, he’d somehow maintained a youthful appearance. It must’ve been the smile, which was downright gleeful as he looked at Liam. His hair was shock white and full, eyes a paler blue than Liam’s. Where his son and other grandson were stockier built, William Danvers the first was taller and narrower, though slightly curved from age.
“Gramps, I’d like you to meet someone.”
His grandpa held up a hand before Liam could continue, his eyes shrewdly darting between us, then widening in surprise.
“You’re in love.”
It wasn’t a question, and though Liam’s cheeks turned pink, he said, “This is my girlfriend, Ella. Ella, this is Gramps.”
I extended my hand, but Liam’s grandpa waved it away and pulled me into his chest. He smelled of Old Spice and cigar smoke, a homey, comforting scent that had me relaxing against him.
“It’s great to finally meet you, Mr. Danvers,” I told him when we parted. “I’ve heard so much about you from Liam.”
“Please, call me Bill,” he said, eyes going a little misty as he placed a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “And I hope Three only shared the good things.”
Liam chuckled, but my eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Three?”
“Because he’s the third,” Bill explained.
I hummed. “I like that. Maybe I’ll have to replace your nickname.”
Liam leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he whispered, “You can call me ‘Three’ after I make you come that many times later.”
A shiver wracked my body, and heat pooled in my core.
“Promises, promises,” I replied.
“Baby, you know I’ll make good on them.”
He would too, and I looked forward to it.
Bill awkwardly cleared his throat, but before he could say anything else, a bell rang out, followed by someone shouting over the din, “Dinner is served!”
In a mass exodus, the crowd shifted in a single direction like the flow of a river, and Liam, Bill, and I were swept up in it, shuffled through a set of doors on the far end of the bar and into a spacious dining room. There were maybe fifty people, and we were all directed to the tables on the far side of the room, where a lone two-seater sat on a raised platform, Sam and his fiancée already seated.
“Wait,” I said to Liam, placing a hand on his arm and yielding his progress toward a table near the back. Bill continued and snagged us seats in his stead.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just…are you in the wedding? I can’t believe I hadn’t thought to ask before now.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Best man.”
“What the fuck. You don’t even like each other.”
