by Shea Balik
If he ever wanted to show them he could do this job, Lowen needed to step up. As his father used to say, it’s the squeaky wheel that got the oil. Now was the perfect time to make some noise.
“I never should have let his mother convince me to give him a job,” Brogan grumbled. “Much as I hate to disappoint Natalie, it’s time to let him go.”
That was an understatement as far as Lowen was concerned. Not that anyone had ever asked his opinion, or cared about it, for that matter. They would be probably be shocked by what he had to say about that particular employee. Paul was usually stoned out of his mind outside of work. Well…the few times he’d seen his coworker outside of work, Paul had been high as a freaking kite. At least at work, he was somewhat coherent.
Once, Lowen ran into Paul at the grocery store. He was in the cereal aisle staring at the display of Lucky Charms, or it could have been the Fruity Pebbles. It was hard to say. When Lowen tried to get Paul’s attention, the guy didn’t acknowledge him, just continued to stare at the cereal as if it had the key to life.
“We have the engagement party for Autumn Woods and Esme Hart in an hour,” Kaylee told Brogan. “Selena’s daughter is having a sleep over that she can’t cancel this late and Hettie is hosting the Greenbrier-Shultz wedding in the Cloud Nine room.”
Ready to toot his own damn horn since neither of his bosses seemed inclined to, Lowen walked right up to them and said, “I’m available.” He could see the dubious looks on their faces and instantly started to list the reasons he felt he was able to handle an engagement party.
“I know this would be much bigger than anything I’ve done before, but I’m up for the challenge.” He put a finger up to start his list. “I’ve studied really hard and know all of your wines since you started producing them in 2007.”
Then he held up a second finger. “I’ve gotten excellent scores from all of my customers. Even the bigger parties. Yes,” he rushed to say when he noticed Kaylee opening her mouth. “I haven’t done anything as big as this engagement party, but, from what I understand, there will be two waiters helping to pour, while I concentrate mostly on the two brides-to-be as well as their families.”
Hoping it would add a little push in his favor he added, “Plus, I have heard Kaylee mention to Paul this couple is extremely quirky, which,” he stepped back and waved his right hand from his dark black hair, streaked with strands of electric blue, purple, and little wisps of a pink/purple mix to add a bit of contrast, down his body to show off his left arm with a mostly filled in tattoo sleeve, even pointing out his hand-dyed shoes that matched his hair, “is exactly the word most use to describe me.”
Kaylee shot a glance to Brogan, even raising an eyebrow in question of the man who basically ran all of The Twisted Vine. Lowen had to hold himself back from jumping up and down when Brogan lifted a shoulder halfheartedly. “I’m not sure we have another option,” he told Kaylee. “Unless you’re going to do it?”
Kaylee was already shaking her head. “Can’t. I have a date with my in-laws and they already hate me.”
Brogan chuckled. “I’m sure they don’t hate you.”
Kaylee let out a snort of derision. “For my birthday this year, they bought me a plane ticket to Thailand.” It was obvious from her tone that she was daring Brogan to say more.
He didn’t disappoint. “That’s a pretty nice gift.”
“It would have been,” she admitted, “if they had bought a ticket for my husband.”
Lowen curled his lips in, doing everything in his power not to laugh at the absurd slight. “Maybe it was just an oversight,” he finally managed to say when he was fairly sure he could speak without issue.
“That’s what they said when I mentioned the ticket was one-way,” Kaylee deadpanned.
Brogan let out a low whistle at the same time, Lowen said, “Damn, that’s cold.”
“Tell me about it,” Kaylee said. “That was four months ago, and I have refused to see them until my husband, Gene, insisted they wanted to take us both to dinner to mend fences.”
“Good luck with that,” Brogan told her before turning to Lowen. “Looks like you’re doing the engagement party.” His gaze told Lowen he wasn’t expecting much but Lowen planned on showing him he not only could do it, but he was able to take on more responsibility.
“Thank you,” Lowen said respectfully, as he didn’t want to come on too strong. “I promise, I’m ready for this.”
***
He so hadn’t been ready for this. Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to put him in charge of a wine tasting with a hundred people? And why in the fuck were there a hundred people?
Once more, he glanced down at the sheet in front of him. Woods-Hart engagement party – forty-eight guests. His gaze went back out to the very crowded Just Breathe room that was only capable of handling fifty people. With there being twice that many in attendance, it would explain why he and the two waitstaff helping him couldn’t move to fill the glasses before them.
The only silver lining, if there was one considering he’d most likely be fired for this fiasco, was the cute guy he couldn’t take his eyes off. The man was clearly trying to be as inconspicuous as possible tucked between the wall and a fake olive tree in the corner.
Lowen wasn’t sure how the man thought to stay hidden considering he was wearing a shirt that could blind anyone who dared look at him. In uneven stripes of vibrant colors from red, oranges, and blues, that somehow faded into just as vibrant colors of pink, purple and green, the shirt couldn’t be missed, even through the foliage of the fake tree.
The bright yellow pants didn’t help. Considering how miserable he looked, there was no way this guy dressed himself. Lowen would bet his entire overtime pay for this event on that.
Admittedly, the outfit was hideous. Not even Lowen would be caught dead wearing it, and he was someone who tended to lean toward the outlandish. But on this night, he was thanking his lucky stars for that shirt, because he wasn’t entirely sure he would have seen the beauty through the massive crowd otherwise.
His dark brown hair really brought out the blue of his eyes, which was surprising since the shirt did a good job of trying to diminish all color on the man’s body. Lowen hadn’t been able to get close enough to be sure, but the pretty man appeared to be about one or two inches taller than his own five-nine height.
Everything about the awkward man called out to Lowen on a visceral level he hadn’t experienced in…well, to be honest, since he’d went to college and truly understood what playing the field meant. That was before his parents had decided to sell everything they owned and volunteer in Africa, leaving Lowen with no way to finish paying for school without a job.
He was still working toward his degree but instead of four years, he was currently on his sixth, with at least another two years to go. The thing was, he honestly wasn’t sure why he was attending. Currently, he was working for his business degree, but Lowen had no idea what he wanted to do with his life.
All he knew was that he loved talking with others. Good thing, since this job, as well as him driving for a ride share company, meant he met a lot of new people. Of course, he could do without the fellow college students who felt the need to puke in his car at the end of the night, but if it meant paying his bills, Lowen would put up with even them.
“Did everyone taste the difference between the steel vats and the oak barrels in that last wine?” He asked as loudly as he could, to be heard over the crowd without sounding like he was shouting. “Our sparkling wine is the only selection that we process both ways. All others are either by steel vats only, which, as I mentioned before was with our white wines. Our reds are stored in steel vats in the beginning, and are eventually transferred to wood barrels where they are stored for a minimum of three years.”
A hand went up near the front of the room, which was probably the only reason he could see it. “Question?” he asked.
“Are all your barrels oak?” A younger man, who Lowen had notice
d had been trying to impress several women around him by going through the motions of a wine connoisseur, asked.
Admittedly, Lowen was far from a sommelier, but even after only a month, he could pick one out of a crowd, and this guy wasn’t one. Half the time his comments were absurd, bordering on downright hilarious.
“Yes. The Twisted Vine has all their barrels made from a local source in a nearby town.” That was something Lowen was proud to admit. He honestly loved his country, so to work for a company that insisted in dealing with not only America made products, but local whenever possible, meant a lot to him.
“Any other questions?” he asked as he reached for the next bottle, which was a chardonnay. He poured the two ounces into each of the happy couple’s glasses. When no one asked anything, he went on with his spiel while making his way to the man in the corner.
He was determined, this time, to be the one who reached him first, instead of Iris or Javier who were helping him to pour. “This is our Chardonnay from 2017. As I mentioned, our white wines are held in vats for one year before they are bottled and released to make room for the next harvest.”
“And when is that?” Autumn, one of the brides-to-be asked.
He grinned as he reached the man he’d been trying to get close to since the event began. He turned back to Autumn, but basically blocked the man from being reached by either Iris or Javier. Now that he’d finally gotten to his side, no way was Lowen missing his chance to speak to him.
“We harvest the grapes in the fall. Other areas of the country have different timing based on their weather patterns. For us, we have to ensure we have allowed the grapes to get as much sun as possible, yet not allow the first frost to touch them.” He held up the bottle in his hand. “We bottle shortly before harvest so we can empty and clean the vats.”
Then he turned to stare into the prettiest blue eyes he could ever remember seeing. They were a mix of blues, like the shallow tropical waters around the Bahamas when he’d been lucky enough to be invited to join his college roommate and his family during his freshman year. It had been a trip of lifetime even if he hadn’t realized it at the time, since his parents had announced at the end of his freshman year their plans to stop paying for his education.
“Hello,” Lowen said after he was once more able to think straight. Even that one single word had come out a bit high pitched, but considering how hard his cock had become staring at the beauty, he counted himself lucky to speak at all.
Damn, but the man was even more alluring this close up. Not even the gaudy shirt or pants could begin to take away from his raw sensuality. Lowen wasn’t sure if he stood a chance with a guy like this, but for the entire first half of the wine tasting, he’d been hiding in this corner, with no one joining him. Taking that as a good sign he wasn’t involved with anyone, Lowen reached his hand out after filling the man’s glass. “I’m Lowen.”
Fuckity fuck fuck.
If he didn’t have one hand enclosed in the strong grip of the man before him and the other hand holding the bottle of wine, Lowen would have shifted his cock as it was pressing rather insistently against his zipper. Not that Lowen could blame it.
As impossible as it seemed, the gorgeous man became even more handsome as a soft blush flamed across his cheekbones. It was so damn adorable, Lowen desperately wanted to lean in and kiss each one just to see if he could feel the warmth against his lips.
“Blue,” the guy said.
“Huh?” Lowen said before he could think about it.
Damn if that pink didn’t turn several shades darker. “My name is Blue.”
Lowen gave him his best smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Blue. I’m hoping after I’m done here, I could maybe get your number.”
Those pretty blue eyes widened as if he were a deer trapped in a set of headlights. If Lowen wasn’t sure someone as drop dead yummy as Blue wasn’t hit on all the damn time, he would think Blue wasn’t used to being asked out. Then again, maybe he was just surprised to be hit on while being served wine at an engagement party.
“Oh, um, I mean…” Lowen had to grit his teeth to stop himself from reaching down to adjust himself when the pink turned a lovely shade of red as Blue stammered a bit. As it was, Lowen was going to have a hard time continuing his job with a hard on.
His only saving grace was the apron around his hips. It helped to hide what was happening, but if anyone really bothered to look, it would be pretty obvious he had a boner.
“He’d love to.” A woman, who was wearing quite the reveling outfit, came up and grabbed Blue’s phone from his back pocket. “In fact, why don’t you give it to me now and I’ll shoot you a text. That way, if it gets busy after the tasting you won’t miss each other.”
Lowen was a little startled by the woman’s brazenness, but based on the way Blue stared hard at the ground at his feet, it appeared as if he was wishing for it to open up and get him out of there as quickly as possible. That meant this women was most likely a relative. If he had to guess - mother. Not that he’d ever ask, for he didn’t want to insult her if he was wrong.
Instead he rattled off his number. Sure enough a moment later he felt his phone buzz in his pocket as she sent him a text. Then she put Blue’s phone back in his pocket and held out her glass. “Would you mind? No one’s gotten around to me yet.”
Remembering he was supposed to be doing his job, Lowen quickly gave her the two ounce pour. Then he turned and winked at Blue. “I’ll talk to you later, cutie.”
Groaning at the way Blue continued to blush brighter, as well as the ghost of smile he could see trying to form on those lush lips, Lowen got back to work.
CHAPTER 3
The last thing Blue had thought would happen when his mother made him wear the most hideous outfit in the world to his cousin’s engagement, was to be hit on. Then again, being asked out when at a… mostly family event, hadn’t occurred to him, either.
“I told you that shirt would catch you a man,” his mother said when Lowen walked away to start filling more glasses.
“He probably pities me for my bad fashion sense and only asked for my number to take me shopping,” Blue told her.
That made his mother laugh as she tapped him on the upper arm with her hand. “A date is a date. Even if it’s to pick out a new wardrobe, which, I hope he does, because you need something more than bland shirts and khaki pants.”
Tipping back his glass, Blue downed the wine, wishing it had been a full glass. “I own more than khaki and you know it.”
His mother raised an eyebrow at him and tilted her head to the side. “Really?” Then she pointed at the blindingly yellow pants he was currently wearing. “Not counting those, what other colors do you own?”
Blue didn’t want to say because he already knew she’d only mock him for it. It was his own fault for bothering to say anything. He loved his mother. And, in her own way, he knew she loved him. The problem was, her love came in backhanded compliments, assuming there was a compliment in the statement at all.
When she continued to stare at him waiting for an answer, he let out a long frustrated sigh, which only caused her to smile in triumph, because she knew exactly what he was going to say. “Let me guess,” she said. “You have khaki, blue, and black as well as…” she tapped the tip of her short fingernail against her bottom lip. “One pair of jeans in a normal, medium blue, with no whitewash, holes, frays, or anything else that might make them other than boring.”
These were the times he really wished he had a normal mother. Hell, a normal family. Because his sister and brother weren’t any better. At least they were smart enough to get the hell out of Dodge when they turned eighteen.
His sister, Amber, had gone to Alaska of all places. In the ten years since she’d left Georgia, their mother had only visited her once. Smart. Although, his twin brother, Grey, had been the smartest of them all. He’d joined the fucking army and has managed to keep himself stationed in other countries.
Between the horror of him being
a soldier, or as their mother called it, a pawn of the governmental regime, and residing in mostly third world countries that their mother wouldn’t be caught dead in, Grey had ensured their mother had never visited. Lucky bastard.
“What difference does it make?” He tried to keep his voice low, but he was getting pissed at the way his mother did her best to get under his skin. “They’re clothes, Mother. What I wear shouldn’t make a difference.”
That just made his mother sigh as if he were letting her down. But that was the story of his life. Blue was never enough for her. The only one who could do no wrong was Amber. It was like his sister was the perfect one, even if she did move as far as possible in order to get away from their mother.
Not that their mother would ever even hint that might be the reason. Usually, she ended up blaming Blue for Amber’s need to stay away. He wasn’t entirely sure how she made that connection, but in her twisted mind, that’s how it often came out.
Nothing in the world was ever her fault. Not her six divorces. Not the fact that she had never been able to hold down a job for more than a few months and lived off her family’s wealth. Not even the fact that her children felt the need to get as far from her as possible.
Blue should have done the same, but he’d felt obligated to stay close. Why? He asked himself that every time she got divorced and wanted to spend time with him. Although, if he were being honest, Blue had desperately wanted his mother to like him. She didn’t have to love him, he was over needing that. But it would be nice to at least be liked by his own mother.
He was beginning to realize that was never going to happen. If only he could force himself to stop trying. Maybe then he could find a modicum of happiness. Or at least be content with his life.
Was that a thing? Blue sure hoped so.
“Okay, now we’re going to switch from white wine to the red,” Lowen announced.
Blue couldn’t stop himself from glancing at their host as he explained the next selection. It was a merlot, which he claimed was a bit fruity. The wink Lowen sent his way had Blue’s blood heating as his dick twitched at the attention.
