Page 36 of Blood of the Damned: Thorn
“That may be so, but I want Ledger to wear my ring. For everyone to see he’s mine.” It was how Ledger felt too, so Thorn didn’t care whether it was an archaic institution!
“The big ass bite mark is a clue, brother!”
“That few will ever see, and that’s not the point. I want to have everything with him. This included. He will have my name, as will the babies.” It was important to him for reasons he hadn’t tried to rationalize.
Calvert searched his expression and his softened at whatever he could see. “That’s a lovely sentiment,” he finally murmured.
“Yes, well, let's keep that between us.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “Can you not work with me on this, just for a couple more weeks?”
He rose as he nodded and pointed at Thorn. “Just don’t go springing a honeymoon on us during our busiest period. Got it?”
“Got it.” He kept quiet that he’d no intention of going anywhere until after the babies were born. There were too many unknown variables for Thorn to take the risk. He’d used the workload as an excuse for not having a honeymoon and Ledger hadn’t batted an eyelash at that.
“Good, now can you send me the revised schedule so I can work through what additional men we’ll need to work through the backlog?”
“Will do. I could reach out to Ethan at Darling Ranch to see if they’ve got any casual workers looking for some additional hours?”
“Do that. You never know, we could poach some of his staff.” Calvert wore a big ass grin for the first time in days.
“Don’t let Silas hear you say that!” The owner of the ranch would not be impressed when Thorn and he had talked about how hard it was to retain good employees. Thorn had heard on the town gossip vine just how many of the ranch hands had taken a fancy to Ethan, the ranch manager. The man had a ‘love em and leave em’ reputation, which meant some of their hands didn’t stay long.
“Haven’t you heard Silas’s parents have opted to retire and now Silas is the head of Starling Enterprises and Ethan is shouldering the burden of the ranch?”
Thorn sat back staring agog at Calvert. “I never thought Lane and Derick would retire! Holy shit. They can’t be that old?”
Calvert shrugged, his powerful shoulders straining the seams of his suit for a moment. “No one is as old as us, so who can tell? Anyway, send me the information I need. In fact, do it now before you get wrapped up in wedding stuff and I’m forced to come back and kick your ass.” He was all teeth as he made the threat.
“Behave, you aren’t Dacian.”
“I could be,” he said evilly, laughing as he left.
“Let’s hope not, one asshole is enough to deal with,” he called out after him.
That’s two, actually. You’re an asshole too.
Please, I’m nowhere near as bad as Dacian.
You keep believin’ that.
The laughter filling his head got louder, and Thorn scowled, sending the revised plan to Calvert. He was right, the wedding plans had him forgetting about everything else that needed doing.
Ledger, it turned out, was much better at juggling everything. They’d employed him because of his reputation for understanding wines, and because Thorn had an intrinsic sense that Ledger belonged at the Vaughn Winery. His organization skills rivaled Calvert’s, and that was saying something.
“Are you ready for me?” Asher stood in the open doorway. The wolf moved so quietly he often could catch Thorn unaware, like now, when he wasn’t tuning into his surroundings.
“I am,” he beckoned the wolf in, grinning. “I hope Ledger isn’t driving you nuts over the wine choices.”
They had hundreds of bottles of different wines in the cellars, some bottled on the estate, others bought in over the years. Some were older than most of the staff that worked for them combined. They bought these wines because the brothers had always had a love for wine. Their tastes were so different, and those differences had been the basis of the idea for makingwine. Yet even before they’d started the venture to create blood substitutes, they’d bought wines to add blood to. It had worked with some and failed with others, so their collection had grown. Ledger, when he’d discovered the separate cellar the week before, had lost his mind, gushing like a broken tap.
He'd spent considerable time there with Asher, discussing the merits of the wines he’d never had the opportunity before now to try. He was careful because of his pregnancy, despite Thorn explaining that the wine would have no effect on the girls. It was cute the way his nose wrinkled at Thorn when he’d gotten conflicted by what he wanted to do—protect his babies—versus tasting some extremely rare wines.
Limiting himself to a few sips was his compromise, and Thorn’s affections, if possible, deepened with just how much Ledger wanted to do the right thing for their babies.
“His enthusiasm is contagious.”
“Like a nasty rash?” Thorn said, tongue in cheek.
Asher chuckled, a rosy glow making him rub self-consciously at his cheeks. “He loves wine as much as I love working with the vines.”
