Page 7 of Blood of the Damned: Thorn (Vaughn Winery #1)
Ledger
Conflicted. It was the only way to describe how he felt when he wanted Thorn to chase after him but at the same time, wanted to be left to get on with his job.
An impossible situation that seemed to be worsening daily. The heightened senses that came from mating with a vampire left Ledger feeling things at an intensity he wasn’t used to. Giving how new everything still was, it was something he continued to grapple with.
He hadn’t gotten his way about starting work on the expected date, and if he was truthful, it hadn’t all been Thorn. They’d spent two weeks fucking and biting each other before Ledger had felt guilt creep in when they’d taken a break and left Thorn’s side of the house.
Thorn had wanted to show him around and they’d encountered Dacian and Calvert, though it was Dacian who bitched about dealing with clients.
Ledger had understood Dacian’s frustration.
They’d employed him to do a job, but he wasn’t doing it, so he put his foot down.
Three weeks in, it remained a challenge to motivate himself to leave their bed.
But Ledger was determined to show Thorn’s brothers he could do what they were paying him to do.
The fact they were already paying him weekly for work when he hadn’t started was yet another bone of contention.
He chose to block out the confrontation he’d just had with Thorn and focused on collecting the bottles of wine and champagne he’d brought out of the cellar.
He’d gone through past Starling orders to figure out what they might like.
Dacian had let go of his arm when they were out of sight of Thorn.
The brothers, it appeared, loved to wind each other up, and Dacian knew Thorn hated anyone touching him.
Ledger pushed that thought aside when he had no family to compare it to and refocused on Starling Enterprises and what would be expected of him.
They appeared to be good customers. He’d gone through all the wines they had in the expansive cellars with Aster, the vineyards viticulturist, who was a sweetheart and a fount of knowledge on the grapes grown.
It assisted Ledger in understanding the notes of the wine and then aided him in pairing them to the occasion.
Being a sommelier meant projecting confidence and communicating with the customer. These were the key to success in gaining sales. He was excited and nervous because this would be an actual test of his skills in front of Thorn’s family.
Ledger was just grateful Thorn wasn’t around because he made Ledger more nervous.
Not because he couldn’t do his job, but because of the possibility of what could happen in front of an audience if Thorn acted possessive.
It seemed Ledger was a complete sucker for it—quite literally.
At the sight of Thorn’s fangs, Ledger found his teeth sinking into the man’s throat every time.
If that wasn’t bad enough, he had also lost his composure and sanity and ripped Thorn’s clothes off his body in front of Calvert.
Doing any of that in front of clients was not what he wanted to happen.
“When we aren’t doing a tour of the winery, we use this room for the tasting. If the client is doing a vineyard tour, we do the tasting down in the wine cellars.”
Ledger stepped into the room behind Dacian and stopped to appreciate the view through the large bi-folding doors. They led out onto a small courtyard surrounded by vines. The soft sunlight filtering through the laden vines was the perfect backdrop to a wine tasting.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, taking a second longer to take in the view beyond the vines, before he glanced around the room.
It was a genuine pleasure to see the care the Vaughn brothers had taken to create a space that Ledger was going to love working in.
Much like the house, it was a combination of modern and old.
The semi-circular table in the center of the room was perfect for wine tasting.
It was above waist level, nearly to Ledger’s chest. This allowed a person to see the color of the wine through the glass rather than from above.
Below the table he could see two chrome and glass fronted wine coolers for chilling the white wines and champagne.
Against the black wood, they were a stark but pleasing contrast.
On the table were several sets of wine glasses and flutes that sparkled in the sun pouring into the room.
Laid out in sets of five, there were enough for a dozen people.
Parties larger than that made it more impersonal, and Ledger could already see that his beliefs jibed with Thorn and his brothers.
It reaffirmed his decision about working for them—excluding the mate situation, if possible.
If he was honest, he couldn’t wait to get started.
Around the stone walls were pictures of the vineyard and winery in its stages of evolution. He wanted to have a closer look, but now was not the time with the clients due any minute.
He glanced at Dacian, who was watching him closely. “You have an expert eye for detail. All of you do.”
Dacian’s gaze swept down Ledger, paired with the smirk that wound up Thorn. “I’d agree with you, except then I’d be talking about you, too?”
“Give over.” Ledger had quickly learned to stand up to Dacian or find himself walked over. The sound of car engines brought Ledger’s attention to the open doorway.
“Looks like it's show time,” he said excitedly, eager to get started. “You go and greet them, I’ll set out the wine.”
Laugher shook Dacian’s shoulders. “Bossy much?”
Ledger paused and grinned at Dacian, arching one brow. “You’ll see just how bossy if you don’t go get my clients.”
The laughter continued as Dacian left, and Ledger walked to the gap in the table.
With practised efficiency, he had the bottles of red wine arranged and breathing.
The three bottles of white he placed in the chiller for the time being, along with the champagne.
He tucked away the box he’d used to carry them in, keeping it out of sight.
Not two seconds later, he heard voices and groaned when he realized one of them was Thorn.
He eyed his mate, who wore a smug expression as he left the group to walk around the table and join Ledger in the semi-circle.
No. This is my space. Either go back around the table or leave. He made sure to be firm as he held Thorn’s gaze. Go on, he added when he felt Thorn’s hesitation.
He nudged Thorn for good measure, his attention returning to the mixed group.
All but one were dressed stylishly, while one man dressed like he’d come from one of the surrounding ranches.
Ledger guessed their age ranged from around sixty to mid-twenties as he considered his audience and who to pitch the wine to.
Dacian hadn’t returned, but Calvert was there. Ledger got the impression, when he gave a warning look at Thorn, Calvert was purely there to make his brother behave.
Ledger swallowed a chuckle at guessing correctly when, a moment later, Calvert elbowed Thorn in the ribs when he glared at a dark-haired, attractive man dressed in jeans and dusty cowboy boots, who smiled enticingly at Ledger.
“You’re new,” a silver fox with friendly gray eyes said as he held out his manicured hand. “I’m Lane Starling.”
Damnation. One of the founders of Starling Enterprises, which meant the silver-gray haired shifter with piercing blue eyes watching them, had to be Derick Starling, Lane’s husband.
Ledger didn’t let any of his nerves show as he took the hand and shook it. “Ledger, the new sommelier at Vaughn winery.”
“And my mate,” Thorn said, cutting in.
Lane’s eyes twinkled as they dropped to Ledger’s mate mark before he grinned at Thorn and released Ledger’s hand. “How marvellous. Congratulations to you both. True mates are such a blessing.”
His eyes widened with alarm. How did Lane know they were true mates?
How does he know that?
I believe he doesn’t mean it in the way you think he does, Sweetling.
Ledger cast a sceptical glance in Thorn’s direction.
There was an unmistakable confidence to Lane and the blessing of Fated mates was quite a rarity.
Ledger had checked. Shifters rarely found a Fated mate.
He was extremely lucky, and Ledger figured it had something to do with Thorn being a vampire, rather than a shifter.
He had no actual way of confirming that when vampires weren’t particularly well known about—if at all!
“Thank you. I take it this isn’t your first visit to the winery?”
Lane grinned cheekily. “Not at all, I’ve been coming for years. We love to stay in one of the houses overlooking the vines for a mini break. So peaceful and beautiful here.” He sighed wistfully. “We don’t often get the opportunity with work pressures.”
Derick eyed his husband with what looked like worry before he returned his attention to Calvert, who was speaking to a woman dressed all in red, with jet black hair that swung around her shoulders as she chatted animatedly.
“Are you in a rush today?” Ledger asked, mind racing. Perhaps they could get the winery restaurant’s chef to cater a meal they could eat out in the courtyard. Ledger had noted the outdoor furniture that could easily be set up.
“No, we have drivers today so we can enjoy the wine tasting,” responded Lane, a light of interest in his gaze as he stared at Ledger.
“Well then, it is such a beautiful day, allow me to organise a lunch for after the tasting, out in the courtyard.”
“How lovely,” Lane glanced at the dark-haired man in jeans. “Did you hear that Silas? Can you spare some time from the ranch to have lunch with us?”
His grin was like Lane’s, and it was then that Ledger figured out the relationship between them. Lane and Derick had eight boys, some of which were adopted. Silas, the oldest, was divergent or so he’d read in the tabloids.
“Popi, you’re just looking for an excuse not to eat in the bunkhouse.”
Ledger wasn’t one for reading the tabloids, but it was hard not to know a little about Derick, who flouted society's expectations around divergent shifters and married Lane, who was also divergent.
Every divergent, like Ledger, understood just how hard it was to stand firm under the pressure of society's beliefs about mating with divergents. What he hadn’t read was Silas owned a ranch in these parts.
Lane gave a snort of laughter, looking unrepentant. “Why, of course I am.” Father and son grinned at each other. “Who wants to be sat next to someone smelling of horses when I can sit outside surrounded by the sweetness of the vines?”
“I’m with Lane,” the beautiful, dark-haired woman said.
“I’d expect nothing less from you, Monica.” Silas glanced at Derick. “Looks like you won’t be able to make that hasty retreat to Hazardville before Popi bankrupts you with all his wine purchases, Dad.”
“I think we’ll survive.”
Ledger winked at Lane before he could reply. “You haven’t tasted the newest editions to the wine list yet.”
Derick groaned good-naturedly as he came and slipped an arm around Lane’s waist, revealing the difference in their sizes. “I’ve a feeling I’m about to be fleeced.”
Thorn smothered a chuckle, but he was laughing in Ledger’s head. “We’ll be kind.”
The snort Derick gave in response said he didn’t believe him.
“Shall we get started? I’ve got a cheeky red, full-bodied and sassy on the palate that I’m sure you’ll love.”
“Why, I do believe he’s talking about me,” Lane giggled, tugging Derick closer to the table.
“No…” Ledger gave Lane a thoughtful look, “I believe you’ll be our vintage Vaughn champagne. Exclusive, expensive, divine on the tastebuds and with enough fizz to brighten anyone's day.”
A deep, rumbly laugh got every head turning to Derick. Ledger noted a couple of shocked looks, suggesting Derick rarely laughed like this. “I think I’m going to have to buy every bottle because I don’t share.”
Everyone laughed, yet Ledger got the feeling Derick wasn’t joking.
Four hours later, he was proven right.