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WILD WOLF: Werewolves of Montana Book 12

Page 8

by Vanak, Bonnie


  Cool air wafted over her as she entered the winery store. Behind the cash register, Erica glanced up, saw her and her eyes widened.

  Jordan gave a merry wave. She went to the counter, studied the collections of corks for sale. Customers milled about, examining T-shirts, wineglasses and other accessories. Most smelled like Skins, but there were a few shifters amongst them.

  “I thought you’d be lounging in bed, exhausted, since you’re a new bride,” Erica snipped. She peered at Nolan striding through the parking lot. “You must not have satisfied him much if you’re this chipper and energetic.”

  The insult had the effect of a slap. Jordan winced. Then she smiled to make up for it. “We’re both young and have lots of stamina. Who says you can’t have amazing sex at night and work the next day?”

  She wandered off to examine a wine purse when Nolan found her. “You could have waited,” he gently scolded.

  He brought her back to a room filled with giant stainless steel tanks. Two men ran the bottling machine, taking the filled bottles and boxing them. Another ran a forklift, lifting pallets of boxes onto a truck in the loading dock. Hoses snaked over the tile floor. Nolan took her elbow, steadied her as she treaded through water on the floor. His touch made her shiver with awareness.

  As he talked, the numbers astounded her. Six years ago, the winery was small, earning revenue from the tastings at the bar and from supplying local retailers. Now they shipped across the country, thanks to having an agricultural exemption. The huge steel tanks held a total of 75,000 gallons of fermenting wine in various stages.

  “Most of what we produce are the sweet wines, the muscato and the muscadine. They’re in high demand.”

  He pointed to the machine in the corner. “We use that for sparkling wine. Machine puts 3,000 pounds of pressure on the oversized corks to stuff them inside. It seals the fermentation. Know why we don’t call our sparkling wine champagne?”

  Jordan rolled her eyes. “If this is a test, stop underestimating me. You taught me when I was six about champagne and how only the region of Champagne, France, produces real champagne with natural sugars and a secondary fermentation that results in natural carbonation. Here, you use CO2, so it’s not natural.”

  Nolan gave an approving nod. “You remembered.”

  “Easy enough to recall.”

  “I thought you wanted to forget everything about this place after that note you left my father.”

  Jordan winced again. Damn, it was barely ten and already she was off to a bad start. “That note was for his eyes only.”

  “As his beta, I knew everything he knew.”

  Not everything. Not what Craig had told her after she’d gone to him, hoping for justice. Instead, she got dismissed.

  Her note had been scribbled before she’d shoved her few belongings into a backpack and slipped out the back door. In it, she called his father an alpha who cared more for his sterling reputation and ego than the good of the pack. She’d accused him of pandering to family and listening only to them, instead of respecting those who had no voice.

  You’re a sorry excuse for a Lupine, you bastard. You and your family are corrupt liars with no sense of common decency or care.

  Bristling defensively, she put her hands on her hips. “I called your father out on something he neglected to do.”

  “What?”

  Elaborating now would only dredge up the past and this was a fresh start. “It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past.”

  Expecting him to defend his sire, she was stunned to see Nolan slowly nod. “Craig wasn’t perfect. Let’s move on.”

  Nolan continued the tour. He gestured to a layer of ice on a steel tank. “We kill the yeast off naturally instead of using chemicals. Cold stabilization is much better for the wine. Six times every fifteen minutes water goes through the chiller and then is pumped into these holding tanks to kill the yeast when the wine is ready. Water’s between 24 and 22 degrees.”

  Jordan studied the huge tanks, impressed with how the business had grown. “You still give sweet wines six weeks to ferment to get the supply out faster?”

  Nolan blinked. “Eight now. After dad died, I slowed it down a little to give it extra time. We make our own pinot grigio here as well. Pinot takes about two months. Less sugar in the grapes means it needs more time. ”

  Pinot grapes didn’t fare well in the Tennessee soil. “Where do you import the grapes?”

  “Washington.”

  It clicked. “You get most of your grapes from other producers. Farmers? Is that how you got the state to give you an ag exemption?”

  Nolan finally cracked a smile. “You always did get it. Locals sell us grapes. The vineyards produce a much smaller amount, and of course, the premiere vintage exclusively for the Fae.”

  He showed her the press, which could hold 10,000 pounds of grapes. “After half an hour, you get skins looking like raisins. Aim is to squeeze out as much juice as possible. We give the skins back to the local farmers to use as fertilizer.”

  She liked that. Craig had tossed out the skins. “No waste.”

  Jordan leaned against the wall, scrutinizing her new mate. “You’ve improved the business and expanded it, Nolan. Been busy since I left.”

  He picked up a cork, rolled it between his hands. “Most of it was after my father died. Had to do something to throw my mind off…everything. Hard to deal with the fact he was gone.”

  How well she understood that. In his own way, Nolan had also run away from his troubles, only added more responsibility instead of trying to escape his problems.

  Nolan’s gaze grew distant. “Always wondered what would have happened if you stayed, Jordan. How you would have been here, helping out…”

  He went silent, then pitched the cork back into the box. “No point bellyaching about the past.”

  “I’m here now. What do you want me to do first?” Jordan didn’t want him brooding about what they once shared, her mistakes, and his father.

  She wanted him looking to the future with her.

  And knowing Nolan’s penchant for hard work and devotion to his duties, pitching in would help cement the idea that she was here to stay.

  Nolan eyed the wine bar, which was already getting busy with customers. Summertime and tourists looked for fun activities, maybe doing a tasting or two.

  “How good’s your pour?”

  Jordan flexed her fingers and grinned. “Almost as good as your palate. Almost.”

  He gave a gentle, affectionate swat on her butt. “Git. Give Galen a hand with the customers at the bar. I have to check on a new batch of Concord grapes that just came in.”

  Working at the wine bar wasn’t her first choice because in the past, pack members had to earn that privilege.

  “You sure you want me there and not someone else? I don’t want to take it away from someone who earned that right.”

  “You’re good. Listen to Galen a spell, see how he does it and then follow his lead. It’s the best way for you to see our clientele.”

  If Nolan needed her at that station, she’d be there. First she wanted to check out the cute wine purse she’d eyed in the store. Merchandising sure had changed in the six years since she’d been gone.

  As she entered the store, she saw Adam, the Harlow beta wolf, walk in from the street. Jordan ducked behind a display of wineglasses, not wanting to engage in polite conversation.To her surprise, the Harlow beta headed straight for the cash register, leaned on the counter and smiled at Erica. They put their heads together and talked, too low for Jordan to make out.

  Even though she was Lupine, her hearing wasn’t as sharp as other Lupines. She’d have to get closer to listen and that would give away her position. Not for the first time, Jordan wished her wolf senses were as honed as Nolan’s.

  No other Mitchell pack Lupines were in the shop. Only three or four Skins milled about, examining the wines for sale and the merchandise.

  The Harlow beta glanced up, looked around furtively, and then p
icked up Erica’s hand and kissed it. Jordan nearly knocked over a stack of glasses in shock.

  What the hell?

  Then the beta walked out quickly. From her vantage point, she saw him climb into his truck and drive away.

  Unease shot through her. She backed away quietly as Erica waited on a customer and rang up her order.

  As she fled into the wine shop, Jordan wondered why the Harlow beta was flirting with Erica and what that meant.

  Surely it couldn’t be good. She’d have to tell Nolan later, much later when no one could overhear them.

  Clients piled high and deep at Jordan’s station, eager to sample the latest blueberry vintage special. Jordan sweet talked them all, pointing out the delicate fruit flavors and hints of spice. From the glass wall separating the tasting room from production, Nolan watched her as he helped box bottles fresh off the line.

  She took her time, paying attention to each person as if he or she mattered more than anything else. Always had that way about her, Jordan. She had a habit of bringing sunshine into a dark day with her cheerfulness and spark.

  Certainly she’d brightened his night when he’d taken her, hard and fast, in the dark night for a third time. Then again this morning as the sun peeked over the hills, streaking the sky rose and purple.

  He’d rolled atop her and found paradise.

  Where had she gone wrong? What made her leave so abruptly, saying such awful things? Nolan couldn’t figure it out.

  He’d asked his father, who’d shrugged and said Jordan was a free spirit.

  It bothered him that he might have been a bad judge of character, plagued him so much that when he took over leadership of the pack, he vowed to stick to tradition.

  How could he make new rules, enact change, when he remained clueless about the one person most important to him?

  Nolan left the bottling area and headed into the store to check on Erica. She’d told him earlier she needed to speak to him.

  Behind the cash register, the younger Lupine sulked. With her brown hair, round face and brown eyes, Erica could be downright pretty. But when she pouted it made her unattractive. Shortly before he and Jordan became lovers years ago, Erica had flirted with him. When he gently dissuaded her, she kept her distance. Respectful, always following the rules.

  Unlike Jordan, who always broke them. Couldn’t help a grin as he remembered the time Jordan came to this very store when she was fourteen, and stole a bottle of their cheapest vintage. Nolan had found the empty bottle in the hayloft.

  He’d figured she’d have puked her guts out. Instead, he found his younger brother, Bryce, vomiting in the grass as Jordan stood by, shaking her head.

  “Pathetic. Never met a Lupine who can’t hold his liquor,” she’d declared.

  His dad had spanked her good that day with the leather belt. Nolan’s smile died as he recalled Jordan’s stubborn refusal to cry. He’d suggested to his sire that Jordan should scrub out the bathrooms for a whole week instead, which she’d always hated. Craig had refused.

  Beatings with leather belts were all some stubborn, wild ones understood, his father had declared.

  Yet Craig decided against punishing Bryce because being sick was punishment enough.

  His father always put his blood kin first.

  Erica rang up an order for a happy Skin couple who’d been Jordan’s customers.

  “That girl, Jordan, she sure is fun! She convinced us to buy a case of the new blueberry hill,” the woman told Erica.

  Erica grunted and took their credit card, ran it. She muttered thanks as the couple finished the transaction.

  They left, looking puzzled.

  This was so not good. Usually Erica was cheerful, a good example of the positive customer service the winery exuded. Always leave them with an uplifting experience.

  Not with her sourpuss face.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked her. “Smile at the customers.”

  “It’s not fair! Jordan’s barely back one day and you have her pouring, waiting on customers. I’ve worked in the store five years and you never gave me a chance to serve at the bar. Why are you playing favorites, Nolan? Same as your father did?”

  The accusation stung. He growled low, and she paled. “I am not.”

  Erica stared at the counter. “I’m sorry.”

  “Stay at your station and I’ll send someone to relieve you. I’ll give you an hour at the bar, but you listen to Galen and if you start confusing people on the vintages again, you’re out.”

  She brightened. “Thank you!”

  Removing his radio from his back pocket, he called another Lupine from the back to help at the bar. Erica was slow and the bar bustled today.

  Nolan headed into the tasting room.

  Maybe he’d needed to find a strong mate to appease the Fae leader, but he risked alienating his pack.

  It was his fault, putting Jordan in a position coveted by other Lupines. He’d forgotten how Erica clamored to learn to pour from Galen, their wine expert. Even though Erica could sometimes mix up the vintages, she had done well at the last tasting party held at the lodge.

  Nolan returned to the bar, where ten people lined up with glasses, most in front of Jordan. Light shone in the auburn and gold streaks in her red hair, and her smile was pure sunshine.

  He waited until she finished with the first set of clients and leaned across the counter, beckoning to her. As she bent over with a questioning look, he gestured to the store. “Go relieve Erica on the cash register.”

  His new mate blinked. “What gives?”

  “Erica needs to tend bar.”

  “Ole lemon sucker? She’ll scare away the people. She’d scare away a pack of starving wolves.”

  Damn if she wasn’t right. Nolan wanted to laugh, but this was too serious. “Do it.”

  “She’s a jealous bitch.” Jordan turned away.

  Nolan skirted around the counter, took the wine from her and set it down. He offered the waiting customers a wide smile. “Excuse us, folks. Galen will pour for you.”

  The male hastened to wait on the customers as Nolan grasped Jordan by the elbow and steered her away.

  “What?” Jordan demanded. “I was just telling it like it is.”

  He didn’t stop until reaching the store room in back. Jordan scowled. “Now what?”

  “Clean the bathrooms.”

  Jordan scowled. “You brought me here to sell wine, not be a janitor!”

  “You need a touch of humility.”

  “Who are you to order me around?”

  “Your alpha. Get to work. Next time you call someone in the pack a bitch, I’ll make you use a toothbrush on your hands and knees.”

  She couldn’t believe Nolan was ordering her to do manual labor. Mated only for less than a week and this was her marriage?

  “What happened to love and respect?” she demanded.

  Nolan narrowed his eyes. “When you show courtesy for the pack and all in it, you’ll see the same. Name calling isn’t acceptable.”

  Resentment bubbled inside her. She clenched her fists. “I call them as I see them.”

  Unsmiling, he folded his arms across his chest. “Erica is a loyal member of my pack. Your pack now. You need to get along with her, treat her with respect. Sooner you learn that, the better.”

  “I’ll treat her with respect when she respects me.”

  He blinked. “Did she say something to you?”

  Jordan shrugged. “She’s always been jealous.”

  Best not to mention about that little jab. She didn’t want Nolan fighting battles for her, make the others think she needed the alpha’s help. In a pack, that was a surefire way for other Lupines to label her as weak.

  And fragile Lupines, especially an alpha’s mate, became targets in a struggle for power.

  Nolan’s expression remained guarded. “It’s Erica’s turn to tend bar. Everyone does every position around here. Now get to work.”

  Rebellion rose up inside her. “No.”


  They squared up like two gunfighters. Everything that had happened to her in the past nudged her to stand her ground.

  Maybe if she had stood her ground back then, she wouldn’t have had to leave.

  Nolan glowered at her. “You disobeying a direct order from me, your alpha?”

  “What are you going to do about it?” All her resentment against his father nudged her to defy him.

  Alpha wolves never had her best interest at heart. Even her mate, it seemed.

  “You were given a choice. Prison or mating me. Maybe Tristan should have given you a taste of prison.”

  Before she could utter a word, he scooped her up over one shoulder in a fireman’s hold. Too shocked to speak, she beat at his broad back with her fists.

  Nolan didn’t stop until opening a small storage closet. He dumped her on the floor, not gently, but not exactly rough, either.

  Jordan stared up at him.

  “Think about it, Jordan. A prison cell is not a good place to live.”

  Her mouth opened and closed as he closed and locked the door. “I’ll be back in an hour. Maybe by then you’ll change your mind.”

  She was alone in the darkness. Fury swirled inside her. Jordan took a few deep, calming breaths.

  Fumbling for the light switch, she wrinkled her nose at the smell of cleaning fluid and dust.

  Finally she found the switch. A single light bulb flicked on. Well, okay. The closet was tiny, enough room for her to stretch out her arms and touch the shelving on either side. Huh. It was a mess. Bottles of cleaning fluid and dust rags, old accounting ledgers, even piles of clothing, it resembled a hoarder’s treasure trove.

  So Nolan wanted her to work, eh?

  Soon she was busy, singing as she worked. Time flew by.

  When footsteps sounded outside, she was stunned to see an hour had passed.

  The door opened. Bottle of water in hand, Nolan stood outside.

  “Well, are you ready to….”

  It was his turn to drop his jaw. Nolan actually rubbed his chiseled jawline, staring at her as she dusted her hands off on her jeans.

  “Took a whole sixty minutes, but there you are. Done.” She smirked at him, folding her arms.

 

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