Page 164 of His Boys to Protect

But it wasn't, because he'd forgotten to set it.

Ward rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

When he woke again, he was already late for work.

“Shit!” Ward threw back the covers and sprang out of bed. There was no time for coffee or breakfast. He didn't even really have time for a shower, but he couldn't bear the thought of showing up for work without one. His parents had raised him better than that. He ripped off his clothes and jumped into the shower before the water had warmed up. Shivering, Ward quickly scrubbed himself all over. He rinsed, dried off, brushed his teeth, and ran to the bedroom to get dressed, leaving his dirty clothes and his wet towel on the floor.

He could deal with those later. Besides, there was nobody else there to care.

Ward choked back the emotion at that thought as he snatched up his wallet and keys, pulled on his boots, and ran out to his truck.

Traffic was light, considering he'd missed the morning rush. He parked his truck beside John's and hurried into the office, but it was empty. Ward ran back outside, then checked the barrel room and the storage warehouse before he finally found John talking to the vineyard manager in the midst of a nearby row of chardonnay vines.

The grapes were gone, everything long-since harvested. Now the leaves were turning red and brown and falling away, littering the earth between the rows. As far as the eye could see, green was fading, giving way to red and amber tones. Soon, the vines would all be bare, the naked branches reaching out like twisted claws, standing empty and forlorn until it was time for pruning.

Ward approached the vines and felt the sight like a punch to the gut. He seemed to be fading and falling apart, just like them. Stripped raw. Bare and twisted. Dying.

“I was just about to call you,” John said, approaching him while the vineyard manager took off in the other direction.

“I am so sorry,” Ward blurted out. “I completely overslept. It won't happen again.”

John eyed him. “Everything okay?”

“Not really, no.” Ward ran a hand back through his hair. It was strange to feel it damp. And in the cold morning air, it made him shiver. “Just tell me what you need done,” he said, changing the subject.

John gave him a nod, and they dove right into work.

Ward fought to focus and do as he was told, but his mind kept wandering back to the boys. Back to that crushing defeat he'd felt at the sight of Skylar's note.

By the middle of the day, Ward had dropped more things than he could count, forgotten important procedures, and nearly ruined an entire bottling.

John pulled him aside.

Ward braced himself. Whatever John had to say, Ward had coming to him.

John took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then said, “You're distracted. What's going on?”

Ward blinked, trying to mentally catch up. That was it? John wasn't mad? The man usually got so worked up when things didn't go well. Ward sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I'm sorry.” He tried to make an excuse, but wound up blurting out the truth instead. “Skylar left.”

John's frown vanished. “Oh. Shit.” He shook his head. “I am so sorry.”

Ward tried to wave it off.

“Tell you what,” John said. “Let's run into town and grab a beer.”

Ward frowned. “It's the middle of the day.”

“In this case?” John began with a shrug. “I'd say it's warranted.” He patted Ward on the shoulder, then pulled out his keys. “Let's go.”

Ward could do nothing but follow.

John drove them into town, picking a restaurant that didn't look too crowded. They got a table and ordered a couple of beers and burgers, then waited for the server to leave.

And Ward told John everything. How close he, Skylar, and Charlie had gotten. How he and Charlie had come home to find Skylar gone without a word of explanation.

“You know,” John said after a moment of silence, “I left Adam once.”

Ward nodded. He'd heard the story since the two men had gotten back together.