Page 142 of Distress Signal

“Finn!” Owen hollered. “Let your girl go and get your ass in the truck!”

Groaning, I bent and pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. “Duty calls.”

“I love you,” she murmured against my lips.

“I love you.”

Before we knew it,Saturday had arrived.

Crew and Aspen’s wedding day.

Thankfully, the weather was perfect. Though it rained for a bit in the morning, by the time we finished getting ready, the sun was shining brightly, the temperature hovering in the low seventies. I was grateful we were wearing linen pants and shirts, though I was no stranger to working in higher temps in heavier clothing.

Because Aspen’s only sibling had passed away long before she’d ever met Crew, who had more brothers than he knew what to do with, they opted not to have anyone standing up for them. Once the ceremony was complete, Owen and Aria, as the oldest and youngest of our siblings, would serve as witnesses on the marriage certificate.

The ceremony was taking place at three, so my brothers and I spent most of the day bumming around. It’d been a minute since Owen had been back to Dusk Valley—in fact, one of Delia’s sisters had been here more recently than our oldest brother—so West showed him around the dude ranch. My twin was proud of how he’d taken this section of ranch land that sat unused for ages and turned it into a thriving, authentic western experience. And, of course, we were proud of him.

“I have to admit,” Owen started when we returned to West’s house. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” He clapped West on the shoulder. “But you’ve done an amazing job.”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended,” West said.

“Definitely offended,” Trey piped up.

Owen shook his head at our antics in that way he always had, but his expression quickly turned serious.

“All jokes aside, I’m proud of you.” He studied each of us in turn. “I’m proud ofallof you.”

Awkward shuffling and throat clearing followed Owen’s statement, but I knew without words that each of us appreciated it more than we could ever say anyway.

After Dad died, Owen kept our family afloat. Mama…she’s the strongest woman I’ve ever known. And she did her best. But dealing with the unbearable pain of losing her soulmate while also trying to keep four boys and a little girl fed, clothed, and with a roof over our heads hadn’t been easy. By then, both Owen and Trey had graduated and gone to college—but Owen was the one who stepped up. As the oldest, he became “the man of the house” overnight. Even while finishing up his final semester of college in Eugene before moving halfway across the country to Michigan to start his NFL career, he made time for us. FaceTimed us regularly to check in. Came home when he could. And, of course, provided for us financially.

As far as brothers went, there wasn’t one better in the world than Owen Lawless, and we were fucking lucky he was ours.

Trey broke the silence—by completely changing the subject.

“As much as I love this little emotional moment we’re having, I’ve got some news.”

“You’re dying,” West said, jokingly lifting his hand for a high five, which I obliged.

Owen smacked us both upside the head.

“You wish,” Trey told my twin with a grin. Then he looked at me. “Actually, I finally located the footage from that day at the Swallow seven years ago.”

“Holy shit!” This time, I raised my hand for a five from Trey.

“Way to bury the lead, brother!” Lane shouted, clappingTrey on the shoulder and shaking him, like a teammate celebrating a touchdown in a big game.

“Well, I debated saying anything at all, because I don’t have anything to report yet. The place opens at an ungodly hour, so I’ve still got several hours to comb through. But…we’re close.”

“Why the hell aren’t you working on it then?” Lane asked.

“Uhh…hello?” Crew said, joining the conversation for the first time. “Your baby brother is getting married?”

Lane rolled his eyes. “Please. There are five of you. We’ll catch the next one.”

Crew pouted.

“How much longer will it take?” I asked Trey, steering us away from an argument.