Page 10 of Blood of the Damned: Thorn (Vaughn Winery #1)

Thorn

Sun streamed through the window of Thorn’s office, and he distractedly watched the dust motes dance in the air, his sullen thoughts weighing him down.

A week.

A whole fucking week!

Ledger was acting standoffish and keeping him at arm's length since his brief visit to Ranch Down. And it was brief. He had left when Ledger had demanded it because he’d sensed how serious his mate was.

Thorn’s concerns were a pendulum swinging back and forth.

One minute, he decided he should have stayed and confronted the issue.

Next, he felt leaving and hanging around outside like a complete loser, not willing to have a fight with his mate, was the wisest thing.

In none of his musings did he consider that if he’d stayed home, he wouldn’t be dealing with a mate whose polite stiffness was worse than taking a cheese grater to his skin.

Ledger’s hurt feelings lingered, and though he had effectively blocked Thorn, he could tune into his thoughts when Ledger was asleep. The size comparison to Brigg and Louis kept Ledger fretting, especially at night.

Did it matter that they were fated? It seemed not.

Thorn wanted to have the conversation with Ledger about the actual cause of his insecurity, but didn’t know how to without possibly landing himself in yet more hot water.

He'd spent the last week going over everything his mate talked about relating to his past. His family had not wanted a divergent son. Thorn felt that was the root of everything, despite him having a type before Ledger. And yes, they looked nothing like his mate, but to Thorn it was a non issue. His dhampir was his everything. The second he’d seen him, there was no one who compared to him.

He’d told him so several times. Yet worry dug deep and he couldn’t decide if Ledger actually believed him.

Fated mates couldn’t lie to each other. Did that help? He wasn’t sure, and it led to him going around in more circles, making him dizzy.

They hadn’t had sex. Ledger had allowed him to bite because Thorn needed to do that daily, and it was as amazing as ever.

The connection, the bond, was unbelievably solid.

Except… no sex. He wasn’t a sex addict, at least he didn’t think so, but it was all he could think about when he wasn’t having it.

“If you sigh like that one more time, I’m going to ram your head into a barrel of wine. You’re givin’ me a damn headache with all your broody thoughts,” grumped Dacian from across the desk, where he’d sat for all of three minutes. Honestly, maybe longer, Thorn had lost track.

“Then go away!”

Dacian relaxed back, crossing his legs. The tailored, pale gray slacks he wore didn’t so much as move off his polished shoe, annoying Thorn for no other reason than he wanted to be annoyed at someone.

“We have work to do, or had you forgotten in your sulk? You were the one who needed to go through the cellar inventory to check we have enough for the orders placed for the next six months.” Dacian’s dark brows lifted as he gave Thorn a shrewd look.

“I’m not sulking!” Thorn scowled at the truth. He was, he just couldn’t stop it.

“Whatever. Shall we get on with going through the orders so that I can return to the winery and enjoy the company of your Sweetling? Something he seems to enjoy more than being with you, judging by the hours he’s worked this past week.”

The smugness coming from Dacian that he could work alongside Ledger and see him more than Thorn irked a lot. Ledger had banned him from being anywhere near him at work.

“You wait until it’s your turn. I’m gonna be right there in the peanut gallery enjoying the show!” he threatened, meaning every word.

“Fuck, will you pair give over?” muttered Calvert as he came into the office, followed by Bligh, who managed the vineyard’s guesthouse.

“He started it,” said Thorn childishly, hating himself for it.

Calvert rolled his eyes, something that was becoming a common occurrence of late. “Bligh has some issues we need to discuss.”

Thorn shifted gears, having no choice, as Bligh dragged a chair from the corner of the room to sit next to Dacian.

Thorn swallowed a sigh when Calvert did the same, then pulled his iPad towards himself to take notes.

He knew, given how occupied his thoughts were, that he’d forget whatever he agreed to the moment everyone left.

“What's the issue?”

“Whose damn idea was it to build a guesthouse?” Thorn grumped three hours later, the list in front of him considerably longer than he’d thought it would be.

“Yours,” said Calvert and Dacian at the same time, while laughing at him.

“Yeah well, you should have told me to wind my neck in!”

Bligh stood, his lips quivering, but he was sensible enough to not let his laughter free. “I’ll tackle the builder about getting the west wing renovations started and place an advertisement for additional staff.”

“Fine, but make sure to run the applications past me,” Dacian murmured, his attention on the file he held. “I don’t want a repeat of the last lot of hires we had.”

“Got it.”

Bligh left a few moments later and Thorn waited until the door was closed before he eyed his brother with amusement. “What, you don’t want men spending more time chasing you around the winery?”

Thorn’s humor returned as he recalled how persistent two of the last employees they’d had working up at the house had been with Dacian.

The two shifters had worked to outdo the other in gaining Dacian’s attention to the point he hadn’t been able to go into the house without causing a ruckus.

The two guys had actually come to blows on more than one occasion.

After the second time, both men had been sacked.

Dacian rose gracefully, plonking the file on Thorn’s desk, an evil smile spreading across his far too beautiful face. “I wouldn’t throw sticks when you have your own issues with Ledger. When was the last time you had… sex?”

Thorn’s scowl quickly returned because he couldn’t lie and Dacian knew it. Their bond made sure of that, and if there wasn’t that, then their super sensitive hearing would do the rest.

“Why did I have to get lumbered with you two?” moaned Calvert as he too rose, shaking his head. “You’re ancient vampires and still you act like you did as children!”

Thorn gave Calvert a sheepish look, ignoring the snort coming from Dacian. “Sorry. He’s just so irritating and that will never change.”

Dacian released another undignified snort. “Back at you.” Dacian looked at his twin, dark eyes narrowing. “Is it my fault Thorn chased after Ledger to Ranch Down and pissed him off? Not that I blame Ledger. I mean, spying is so unbecoming!”

“To the vampire gods,” muttered Calvert, heading for the door, “give it a fucking rest.”

He slammed the door after him, and Thorn looked at Dacian accusingly. “You’ve gone and done it now. He never loses his temper.”

“Me? How the hell is that all me?” Dacian asked, though Thorn felt the slither of unease that went through him before he masked it. “I’m not the one who was all boo-fucking-hoo over their mate’s cock blocking.”

“Get out!” Thorn seethed, his fangs making an appearance. “Get out now before I do something we’ll both regret.”

“The last time we fought, I believe I won.” Dacian, the cocky ass, was out the door before Thorn could make it around his desk. The fucker was fast.

He took a moment to get himself under control, eyeing the clock and coming to a decision.

He made sure not to broadcast his thoughts as he walked back around his desk to close his computer down.

He was done with work for the day. He needed to get rid of his frustration, and he knew exactly where and who was going to help.

Enough was enough, no more pussyfooting around.

In his part of the house, after going via the cellar to grab a bottle of their oldest champagne, Thorn went into the well-equipped kitchen and found two old wine goblets that Ledger had gushed over. He placed them on a tray with the champagne bottle.

Next, he went to the fridge and eyed the fruit selection. He made fast work creating an exotic fruit salad and placed the bowl on the tray too, along with a small plate of cheese pieces to complement the wine.

Giving himself a mental high-five, he smirked and went to the cupboard where he had hidden something that had arrived just the day before.

The To’ak chocolate was like a vintage wine and aged like a whiskey.

It was sourced from an Ecuadorian cacao, considered the best and rarest cacao variety on earth.

It also happened to be Ledger’s favorite, not that he treated himself often because of the cost. Thorn had bought a considerable amount—he’d bought out the wholesaler—to sweeten up his mate, something he would never tell his brothers.

He picked two different flavors that worked with the fruit, then carried the tray through his home and into their bathroom. He placed the tray on the small table he used to hold a wine glass on those occasions he liked to relax in the bath at the end of the day.

The sun was setting beyond the large window, but the air was still warm, so he opened the doors to allow in the fragrant scent from the vines. Going to the large tub, he sprinkled in the lavender bath salts, another favorite of Ledger’s, and ran the bath.

Calculating the time, he eyed the bathroom and the candles sitting around the base of the tub.

With the flames flickering in the soft breeze, Thorn walked back into their bedroom, removing his tie and throwing it on the bed before stripping off his shirt and toeing off his shoes.

He was down to his boxer briefs when he sensed Ledger enter the house.

He quickly darted into the bathroom, removing his underwear and turning off the water.

Checking the temperature with his hand, he climbed in.

The scented steam wafted about him as he groaned in appreciation, placing his head on the bath cushion as he heard a door to his part of the house open and then close.

He shut his eyes and worked to relax his large body, especially his shoulders that felt like he’d dug stones into the muscles. His senses attuned to Ledger, he knew the second he walked silently into the bathroom. He resisted opening his eyes as he heard the air hiss between Ledger’s teeth.