“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 hadactually 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.
