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Ambrose looked over at Grandad, who was soaking wet and leaning in, bracing his shoulder against the tractor again, and it occurred to him that the Connellys hadn’t left Ambrose out in the rain, had they? No, they’d rescued him.
There was a shout from the direction of the house. Will and Orhan were jogging across the lawn, both in rain jackets and boots, and when they reached them, Will said, “Jesus, Dad. You can’t just go off in the rain on your own without telling anyone! Fi nearly had a heart attack. We both did.”
“Well, someone had to go and fetch this poor daft city boy. He was walking towards the dam,” Billy said, straightening up. “He’s Liam’s lad, after all. We have to take care of him.”
Will’s eyes widened. “The dam? Why were you heading to the dam?” he asked Ambrose, who shrugged.
“No sense of direction? I mean, it seemed like I was going the right way?”
“Gods, you really are a city boy, aren’t you?” Will laughed. Ambrose nodded, and Will clapped Liam on the shoulder. “Let Grandad steer Adeline into the shed, son. Orhan and I can push. You take your young man inside, before your mother worries herself into a lather over the both of you.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Liam said, hopping down from the tractor. He held a hand out to Ambrose. “Come on. Let’s go inside. Mum’ll be waiting to fuss over us.”
“Unless your young man would like a go at driving the old girl? He could steer her to the shed,” Grandad Billy said. “Think you can manage it, lad?”
Ambrose’s mouth dropped open at the offer, and Will’s eyebrows raised. “I’ve never gotten to drive Adeline!”
“Ah, well, you’re not an expert at GBC now,” Grandad Billy said, eyes twinkling.
“It’s GTA,” Ambrose corrected automatically, his mouth curving up into a smile. “And um, yes, please.” He tried to wrap his head around the fact that not only was he not the bad guy, but that Grandad Billy considered him worthy to drive the Allis, which, frankly, was a lot more faith than anyone had shown in him in a long time—except for Liam of course, who’d trusted Ambrose with his heart.
Liam was smiling shyly at Ambrose, and he was struck with the conviction that apparently the Connellys counted him as one of theirs now. Liam definitely did. The thought filled him with enough warmth to counteract the chill of the rain while he clambered up onto the seat. Once he was settled in place, the other four pushed as he gently steered the Allis into the shed, carefully avoiding the puddles and grinning like a fool the entire way.
Chapter Twenty
Liam
When they finally got inside, Mum bundled Liam into her and Dad’s ensuite bathroom, and bundled Ambrose into the main bathroom. He wasn’t sure what she did with Grandad Billy—hosed him off outside, maybe? When Liam had showered and rid himself of the mud he was covered in and dressed in the warm, clean clothes Mum had left for him, he came back into the living room to find Ambrose wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, his hair all fuzzy and soft and his fingers wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate. Grandad was splayed out in his recliner in a dressing gown and Ugg boots, with Balian starfished on his barrel-like chest. They were both snoring. The TV was playing quietly in the background.
Liam only hesitated a second before settling next to Ambrose on the couch. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” Ambrose gave him a shy smile. “Thanks for the rescue, and for not thinking I cracked onto Marcus.” He wrinkled his nose at the name.
Liam ducked his head. “It was nothing.”
“It wasn’t, though,” Ambrose said quietly. “You believed me, and that doesn’t happen to me very often. Normally I’m the bad guy. And then you came looking for me in a thunderstorm, riding out to rescue me on your white horse. Well, orange tractor. That’s super romantic. Very Pride and Prejudice.”
“I’ve never read that,” Liam admitted.
Ambrose grinned. “Probably because it doesn’t have a chapter on the optimum alkaline soil balances needed for superior shiraz harvests, am I right?”
Liam grinned back and bumped their shoulders together. “Idiot.”
“Nerd.”
Mum came bustling through from the kitchen carrying a tray which held two mugs of hot chocolate and a plate filled with thick slices of her homemade fruitcake, bright yellow and slathered with butter. “There we go now, boys,” she said, settling the tray on the coffee table and handing Liam his mug. “Something to chase the cold away.”
“Thank you, Fi,” Ambrose said.
“Thanks, Mum,” Liam echoed.
Fi picked up her own mug and sat in the armchair across from them.
Liam reached out and took Ambrose’s hand. “We thought we might try dating for real, Mum,” he said, because it seemed important for Ambrose to know he still wanted to try this, that nothing had changed as far as Liam was concerned.
Fi gave him a considering look, and Liam reminded himself that he wasn’t asking permission and held her gaze.
“Let me get this straight,” she said, turning to address Ambrose. “You…hire yourself out and pretend to be a terrible date, but it’s all an act?”
