“Spirits are a whole other thing,” Jez said. “When will you start making gin?”
Zach glared at her. “Hey, hey, let Nolan make the beer first.”
Rusty held up his bottle. “Here’s to beer. And friendship, and safety, and leaving diamonds in the ground where they belong.”
Finally, I was able to smile. I held up my glass and the last dregs of the excellent Syrah it contained, and said the words that thirteen-year-old me had never dared to dream.
“To friendship.”
Friendship and more…
I wanted more.
I wanted everything. No, I still hadn’t slept with Nolan, and by “slept with,” I meant fucked. I shared a bed with him each night, and his mouth and fingers knew every inch of me, but he’d been so ridiculously respectful when it came to his dick.
Based on past experience and simple logic—that thing wasn’t small—I knew it would hurt, which was why I hadn’t pushed him. Now, I was both annoyed with myself for being a coward and grateful that Nolan had given me the space he thought I needed.
But enough was enough.
I had birth control pills, wine, lube, and determination.
And I also had a whole box of sex toys, courtesy of the Choir.
I could do this.
CHAPTER 45
NOLAN
Beer. Huh.
This time last year, starting a sideline would have been out of the question—Nolan had been stretched thin, constantly trying to keep his head above water with the admin, the maintenance, and overseeing the entire production process.
Then Alexa came back into his life.
And Alexa was a survivor. In Blackstone House, she’d gone from eking out a living from dark corners of the internet to making more money than the rest of them combined. Even after she left everything she knew and disappeared into the night, he hadn’t doubted that she’d make a success of her life. He’d just never imagined how much of a success. Now, her carefully cultivated friends had become his as well, and he also understood how she’d conquered the corporate world. She made decisions, and she acted on them.
Like at Dionysus, for example.
In the week after the fire, Jay Monroe had come to visit, and together, the two of them had torn into the inner workings of the winery. The finances, the staffing, the fabric of the estate itself. The verdict? Nolan needed an office manager, so they hired one. Her name was Mayra, and she’d recently moved to the US from El Salvador, where she’d worked as an accountant until her husband fell victim to gang violence.
Then they’d hired a maintenance manager to help out. Another woman, which surprised Nolan, but Alexa felt comfortable around her, and that was the only thing that mattered. Rosario had an engineering degree from Universidad Don Bosco and a young daughter named Gabriela who’d taken a real liking to Juno, and vice versa.
The two new hires had taken the pressure off Nolan, leaving him to focus on the thing he enjoyed the most—winemaking. And possibly brewing beer as well, now that he had the time to do it.
As he walked hand in hand through the house with Alexa, he was so busy thinking through the logistics—supplies, fermentation, bottling, storage—that he didn’t notice she’d gone quiet. Suddenly, she stopped.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
A chill ran through him. What was “this”? The socialising? Having at least three different jobs? Their relationship? Fuck, had he screwed up there?
“Do what?”
“Keep avoiding the sex.”
Was that all? Thank goodness. “I can live without sex. I can’t live without you.”
“Yes, I know, but it means Uncle Porter still has an element of control over me, and I hate that.”
