Blurb:
After a six year absence, Kale Stone returns to Australia to
inherit his father’s vineyard, Vine Mountain Winery, but finds a shocking
requirement to the will. His homophobic father set an impossible condition: he
must marry or reach age thirty-five before he can inherit the family business
and fortune. Unable to run the winery without the money, he has no choice but
to sell.
The only light in the darkness is his childhood friendship with the winery
manager, Tyler Duram, which grows into a secret love affair. When an offer
arrives for the vineyard, it includes a contract for Tyler. Unwilling to lose
Tyler, Kale searches for another solution— until he catches Tyler kissing
another man.
Excerpt:
KALE STONE dropped his bags on the glossy tiled floor and stared
out the thick glass windows of Brisbane Airport into the shimmering Australian
heat. The place had changed in the past six years. Lord, he hardly recognized
the landscape. Set apart from the Domestic terminal, the new glass-and-chrome
International Airport rose from the gray blacktop in a feat of modern
architectural brilliance. A young couple bustled by. He smiled. Hell, it’s
good to hear the Aussie accent again.
Turning away from the window, Kale recognized Tyler Duram’s
lean, muscular frame resting casually against the Arrivals doorway. He drew a
deep breath. Tyler reminded him of the beach; his blue shirt hung open to
display a yard of golden tanned skin, stretched over an impressive six-pack.
Tousled, sun-streaked brown hair tumbled past his collar, and those eyes… deep
and dangerous as the ocean.
Kale lifted his bags and headed toward him. Oh Lord, the sight
of Tyler made him hard. He grinned at him. His hunger for Tyler reignited at his
friend’s frank sexual appraisal and slow, sultry smile. The emotions he thought
long lost awakened and swirled inside him. Kale swallowed hard.
Tyler pushed away from the wall and sauntered toward him.
“Welcome home, Mr. Stone. I’m sorry about your dad.” He tucked his thumbs into
the loops on his jeans and wet his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.
Kale met his gaze with a smile. When Tyler reached for the bags
and brushed the knuckles of one suntanned hand against Kale’s thigh, his heart
pounded. Settle down.
He sucked in a deep breath. How could Tyler send his libido into
overdrive after such a long time? He forced his words to remain casual. “I’m
not upset in the least, and it wasn’t ‘Mr. Stone’ when we were kids, Tyler.”
“You weren’t my boss then.” Tyler ran a hand through his hair.
“It’s still Kale, same as always. My father was Mr. Stone.”
Kale chuckled. “So, Tyler, do you really work for me? You’ll have to tell me
how that happened.” He reached for the suitcases. “Thanks, I can carry my own
things.”
“Well, then, welcome home, Kale. It’s good to see you,
man.” Tyler released Kale’s bag and slapped him on the back. “I thought maybe
things would be different between us now that you’re a big-shot French
vintner.”
Everything had changed. Tyler’s body, for one. Kale wanted to
push him against the wall and slip straight into his fine ass. He swallowed
hard and averted his gaze. One look into those hooded blue eyes and he’d say
something stupid.
“I’m older and I know a lot more about wine, but I’m still the
same person my old man threw out. I’m still proud to be gay, and I don’t give a
damn who knows. Now what about you? How did you come to work for the old man?
He obviously didn’t discover your orientation.”
“Me? No, your dad never found out about me.” Tyler gave him a
slow smile. “I came with the ranch. Part of the deal when he purchased my
parents’ property. I have no complaints. I’ve always had an interest in
winemaking. Hell, I practically grew up at your winery. I went to college,
worked my way up to manager, and now I work for you.” He smiled. “Hey, do you
remember old Bluey? And the day we filled up his work boots with cement and his
hat with horse shit?”
Kale grinned “Sure, and I remember the whipping I got too;
better still was the day we filled his hubcaps up with shrimp shells. The poor
old bastard was trying to find out where the smell was coming from for weeks.”
“Yeah, those were the days.” Tyler chuckled and led the way to
the exit.
“Sure were, the summers went on forever. Two wild,
out-of-control kids raising hell. I’m surprised we didn’t end up in prison. We
were lucky. Is old Bluey still alive?”
“Oh, yeah. The old coot is waiting by my rig. He insisted on
coming. I guess he thought I might go to the pub or something. He still thinks
I’m eighteen.” Tyler laughed.
“Do you spend a lot of time in the pub?”
“Nah, not really. I prefer a nice, intimate meal at a
restaurant—and wine. Most of the guys at the pub would tar and feather me if I
asked for a glass of chardonnay.” He flicked a long-lashed glance at Kale.
“That would be my kind of perfect too. It looks like we’ve a lot
of catching up to do.”
“Uh-huh.” Tyler winked. “A good place to start is why you left.
Hell, I woke up one morning and you were gone. My best friend had fucked off
without a word. You didn’t bother to contact me or send an e-mail, in what—six
years?” His forehead wrinkled in a frown. “That hurt.”
Kale stopped in midstride and spun to face him. “Left? My father
threw me out with nothing but the clothes on my back! I didn’t have your e-mail
address or phone number, and with the shock of the old bastard kicking me to
the curb, I’m surprised I remembered my own name. I wasn’t allowed to take
anything, not a photograph of my mother or even a fucking clean shirt. No
phone, nothing, and I lost everyone’s damn contacts. It’s not like you had a
Facebook page, is it? I did write to you, though, but it’s hard to
keep up a one-sided conversation. If you didn’t receive my letters, I can only
assume your parents withheld them. Maybe they discovered the reason my old man
chucked me out. I called too, but the number had been disconnected.”
“I’m not sure what happened to the mail. My parents moved out a
week after you left, so all the mail went to the big house.” Tyler rubbed his
chin. “I guess your dad had a hand in destroying your letters. How did you get
to France? It’s a bit far to hitchhike.”
“I had a small legacy from Mom and went to live with my uncle in
France.”
“So, tell me why.” Tyler’s eyes narrowed. “Or is it a state
secret?”
“My dad found out I’m gay.”
“Yeah, like that was a secret.” Tyler continued toward the exit.
Kale chewed on his lip, painfully remembering the last argument
with his father. There could be no reasoning with him. God, he had only embraced Sam
Jones in the crushing shed, and that would not have been enough reason for his
father to disown him. Someone must have informed his father about his
sexuality, but who? He lifted his shoulder, wincing at the pain still present
after six years of physiotherapy. Truthfully, his father’s passing had brought
a feeling of relief rather than sorrow.
The glass doors leading from the airport slid silently open, and
a blast of scorching air rammed into Kale. Holy cow, he’d forgotten how high
the temperature got in Queensland in January. He dropped his bags by his feet
and wrenched off his jacket, then rolled up the sleeves of his long-sleeved
white business shirt.
“You might want to lose the tie; it’s forty degrees centigrade.
That’s over one hundred degrees Fahrenheit, in case you’ve forgotten.” Tyler
chuckled, bending to lift one of the bags.
Kale ripped off his tie, stuffed it in his pants pocket, and
picked up his other bag.
“Wonderful.”
Following Tyler to the parking lot, he grinned when he saw Bluey
leaning against a sparkling black SUV.
“Good to see you, Bluey. You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Well, you sure have filled out. Grown a might too. I wasn’t too
sure I’d recognize you. It’s been… what… six years since you left? Are you glad
to be back?” The old man’s dark brown face wrinkled into a smile, his pale blue
eyes a sharp contrast against his tanned skin.
Kale threw his bag in the backseat, then turned to the old man.
“To be honest, I would rather stay in Provence. I didn’t intend
to return to Australia. This will only be a short visit. We finished pruning
the vines before I left, and the manager is quite capable of organizing the
frost watch.”
“So you never had the chance to mend fences with your dad? Shame
that, but I admit he was a cantankerous old bastard. You’ll be glad to know
Vine Mountain is doing well, but your expertise will help it along. The
Riesling vines have a great crop of fruit, and it looks like we’ll be right on
schedule to pick end of March. The place has expanded some since you left. Your
father bought the Durum cattle ranch and planted right up to Blackstone Mountain.
Those vines should be productive next year. Yeah, and two years after you left,
the Tourist Commission put Vine Mountain on the damn winery tour. We have a
tasting twice a week. Stone Brothers’ Riesling is one of the top-selling wines
in the state.” He climbed into the backseat of the SUV. “No harm done if you
want to go back to France. Tyler here is a damn good manager. He runs the
place, from harvest to bottle. He’s got a fine palate, knows his stuff, does
Tyler.”
Tyler rolled his eyes and Kale grinned. “I’m glad to hear the
place is in good hands.” He met Tyler’s gaze. “Does Sam Jones still hold the
transport contract?”
Tyler stiffened and his lips formed a thin line. “I only give
him work when we can’t get anyone else—the guy is trouble, Kale, a fucking
predator.” He gave Kale a knowing glance. “Or have you got a short memory?” He
cleared his throat. “You were lucky to be in France, away from the asshole—and
don’t ask me for details. Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
Kale walked around to the passenger side of the rig, climbed in,
and dropped into the comfortable black leather seat. Memories of Sam Jones
filled his head. He had been young and vulnerable, and Sam had taken advantage
of him. He understood that now, but at the time, Sam had taught him the savage
delight of man love. The thought that Tyler shared a similar memory unnerved
him. He dismissed the thought when Tyler slid in beside him. Hell, his heart
raced with the mere closeness of this man. Lord, the scent of him—pine and warm
man—made his mouth water. His cock twitched in anticipation the moment Tyler
leaned toward him, reaching over his shoulder to gather the seat belt.
“Buckle up. It’s a $300 fine. You too, Blue.” He turned his head
to grin at the old man in the backseat.
Tyler brushed his long, tanned fingers against Kale’s crotch to
fix the seat belt. Looking at his transparent reflection in the windshield,
Kale tried to think of something, anything, to slow his erection. He stifled a
groan. Peppermint breath brushed his cheek and their eyes met. A memory
long-suppressed eased to the surface, sending his libido into overdrive. His
want for this man overflowed, and he swallowed hard, pushing desire to the back
of his mind. The effort to disguise his interest had not fooled his friend. The
knowing look Tyler gave him made his words come out in a rush. “Where are you
living now, Tyler?”
“I’m living in the big house. Do you mind?” Tyler started the
engine, and they moved off into a line of traffic exiting the parking lot.
Heat shimmered off the blacktop, but nothing came close to the
heat curling around his balls. Kale swallowed and kept his eyes ahead. He
shrugged, hoping to display an air of nonchalance. “No, of course not. I’d
really enjoy your company.” More than you’ll ever know.
“Good. I prefer to be away from the live-in employees. I believe
to keep order I can’t be one of the boys. Did you know your old man built a
block of self-contained units, fourteen all together?” Tyler flashed him a
too-white grin. “We’ve been busy in your absence.”
Kale racked his brain. He had picked up an Australian newspaper
that mentioned the winery’s revamp a year after he’d left. “Ah, yeah, I heard
something ages ago. So how many live-in employees do we have? I’m guessing we
still have permanent staff and the casual workers for the harvest?”
“The casual workers vary, but with the new building and the old
bunk house, you have twenty-five men onsite, a secretary—sweet little Joanie
Smith—then there’s buxom Betty, the cook, and her four daughters, all as hot as
hell.”
“You’ll have to watch him with the womenfolk, Kale. It’s like
having a stud bull around.” Blue leaned forward and grasped the back of Kale’s
headrest. “He can’t keep it in his pants for more than a day. You should hire
him out and make some extra cash.” He chuckled deep in his chest.
Kale grinned and turned in his seat to face the old man. “Is
that so? Well, don’t worry, Blue, I’m guessing the old man’s stock whip is
still hanging in the study.”
“Yep, it’s still there.” Blue slapped Tyler on the shoulder.
“But I’m guessin’ he runs fast too—has to with all the husbands in the valley
after him.”
“Be careful, Blue. Kale’s got a reputation too.” Tyler glanced
at Kale and raised a dark brow before returning his gaze to the road. “I hear
you’ve handled a lot of horny men in your time.” He chuckled and turned his
head to wink at Kale.
Concentrating on just taking the next breath, Kale shrugged.
“No, not a lot… just a select few.”
JET LAG and sheer exhaustion claimed Kale on the journey home.
He rested his head against the padded seat and dozed. The dry Queensland
countryside flashed past. The changing landscape never failed to amaze him.
Lush green trees and pasture in the rainy season turned to crisp brown scrub in
days under the summer sun. A familiar scent of fire filtered into the cabin,
and he opened one eye to catch a glimpse of a charred forest blackened by a
recent bushfire. Nothing had changed; life in Australia had continued without
him.
Three hours later, he caught sight of the homestead. The
one-hundred-year-old house had received a new coat of white paint and shimmered
like a confection of white meringue in the sunshine. A small fenced garden
filled with vegetables sat in the shade of a new water tank. The abundance of
lettuce and tomatoes was the only splash of color in the dusty earth.
He opened the door and slid from the seat. A burst of heat cut
through his shirt and stopped his next breath. Jesus, he had to get inside
before his blood boiled. He moved swiftly toward the house and taking the steps
two at a time, reached the front door. He paused beneath the wide awning, a
mixture of revulsion and regret churning his gut. He’d left this place and
swore he’d never return. Tyler moved to his side, his face creased in a grin.
Kale turned to him and raised a brow. “Spill it, what happened with Sam?”
“He wanted me to be his boy.” Tyler shrugged. “I guess he missed
you.”
“And… did he get you?”
Color pinked Tyler’s cheeks, but anger flashed in his eyes.
“That was a long time ago, and like I said, it’s better you don’t know, and I’d
rather keep the details to myself, okay?”
“What the fuck did he do to you?”
“Let it go, Kale. It’s better this way.” Tyler bounded up the
stairs and pushed open the front door.
God, the musky scent of Tyler washed over him, driving him
insane. What had happened between Tyler and Sam to cause such a reaction?
“Ah, Barns will be waiting for you. I noticed his car outside.”
Tyler waited for him to enter and shut the door. “He’ll want to speak to you
about the will. I’ll let Betty know we’re back. She’ll have made something
special to eat. She likes to make a fuss.” He strolled toward the kitchen.
Blissfully cool inside the air-conditioned house, Kale glanced
around the home. Strange after being away that the house appeared smaller than
he remembered. He stared at his father’s office door with trepidation. He
didn’t want to deal with this right now. His head ached with exhaustion. He drew
a deep breath and walked into his father’s office to greet the family
solicitor. The aged, balding lawyer, in an impeccably tailored brown suit, rose
from behind his father’s carved mahogany desk and peered at him over the
glasses perched on the end of his nose.
Kale ran a hand through his damp hair and met his gaze. “My
apologies, Mr. Barns. I understand you’ve been waiting some time?”
“Not to worry, plenty here to keep me occupied.” He tapped the
papers littering the desk. “I thought it best to get all the legal documents
out of the way so you could get yourself settled.” He offered his hand.
“Welcome home.”
“I appreciate you coming. I’ll need to acclimatize before I
venture too far. It was snowing in France when I left, and I’d forgotten how
hot it gets here.”
Kale shook his hand, turned, and collapsed into the chair
opposite the desk. The smell of cigars and sweat brought back a rush of
memories. His father standing over him, fists clenched, his eyes blazing with
disgust. His stomach became jittery just thinking about it. How his father had
changed after his mother died. He’d become a ruthless bastard in less than a
year. Once Kale had loved him, but now it had become too late for forgiveness.
The papers rustled on the desk, bringing Kale’s attention back
to Mr. Barns. He forced his mind to concentrate on Barn’s soft voice.
“It’s all pretty straightforward, Kale, but there is a condition.
Vine Mountain goes to you, lock, stock, and barrel with $100,000. The rest of
your father’s fortune, amounting to about $27.5 million, will be held in trust
until you reach the age of thirty-five, unless you marry. He was very aware of
the recent High Court ruling against same-sex marriages, and although I did
insist the government’s position could change, he would have none of it. He
insisted Australian politicians were too ‘old school tie’ and set in their ways
to change the law in the next millennium.” The lawyer rested his glasses on the
desk, his face creased in a deep frown. “I did explain the difficulty this
would impose on you at the time the will was drawn, but your father refused to
budge. He was of the opinion with enough incentive you would change your
sexuality. The terms will stand up in court.”
Anger straightened Kale’s spine. He dragged in a deep breath,
trying to absorb the implications. “But it doesn’t specify I must marry
a woman?”
“No, the term is not gender specific. There is a loophole. It
does not state a requirement for an Australian marriage license either. You
must simply produce a certificate of marriage to inherit the estate.”
Kale scrubbed his hands over his face. His father expected him
to fail—$100,000 would not pay for the running of Vine Mountain Winery for a
month. He sighed. What’s new?
“Is that for me, personally? Did he leave anything to run
the bloody company?”
“That’s it. I used my powers as executor to pay the employees
until the end of next quarter and to cover any outstanding debts. You’ll have a
few months grace before you need funds. I’m sorry, Kale. He insisted this
was for your own good. He couldn’t accept the fact you are gay.” Barns held out
his father’s last will and testament.
Taking the offered document, Kale set his gaze on him. “How long
will it take to get the transfer of ownership for all of this?”
“Two weeks.”
Running a hand through his hair, Kale glanced at the calendar.
January 15.
“Well, my only course of action is to sell the winery. I’m not
planning on marrying in the next three months.” He chewed on his bottom lip.
“How long will it take for a sale to go through?”
“If all the funds are available, usually the transfers and other
paraphernalia take about six weeks.” Barns raised a brow. “But you have to get
someone to buy it, and the market is down at the moment. It won’t be easy.” He
let out a long sigh. “What about the people who work here and have made it
their home? Some of them have been employed here for twenty years or more, or
does loyalty mean nothing to you?”
Kale pressed his lips together. Disbelief rode heavy on his
shoulders. His father’s homophobia would destroy a very lucrative business that
had been in the family for generations. As if he’d marry anyone under false
pretenses to suit his father. He leaned back in his chair and sucked in a deep
breath. Selling was the only option. He rested his elbows on the arms of the
wooden chair, steepled his fingers, and turned his attention back to Barns. “I
might be able to get someone to take on the crew if the price is right. If not,
I’ll contact the other wineries in the state and try to get them employment,
but you’ll have to guarantee the two weeks’ severance pay.”
“I’m sure that’s within my duty of care. Nevertheless, Kale,
this is a multimillion-dollar business. If you could hang on for one year, last
year’s vintage will be ready for sale, and if you need cash, there’s plenty of
vintage stock in the cellar.”
“Yes, but if I liquidate that, I’ll lose the hook to sell the
winery. It will look like the business is going bad. I need a quick sale so I
can return to France. I like my work there, and a third share in a small
business suits me fine. I’ll manage. I have for the past six years without my
father’s help.” He grimaced. “I’ll get the money when I turn thirty-five. It
will be something to look forward to.”
“Very well. Do you want me to handle the sale?” Barns collected
the paperwork and pushed it into a folder. He peered over the top of his
glasses with an expression of weariness.
Exhaustion seeped into Kale’s muscles, and the grit from
travelling scratched his eyes. He wanted to find a bed and sleep for a week. He
forced his lips into a smile. “Yes, thank you. I will consider all offers.”
KALE STAGGERED up the stairs to his old bedroom, only to find it
completely stripped of all his personal belongings. Nothing remained of his
childhood; the furniture, the gifts his mother gave him on his birthday before
she died, all of them were missing. Everything had changed and recently too.
The room had a sterile, newly painted odor. A new king-size bed sat against one
wall, mirrored wardrobes had replaced the old cupboard once crammed with
memories. His father had tried to wipe out his existence.
He threw off his clothes, too weary to care, and flopped down on
the bed. Sometime later, he awoke in darkness, coated in sweat. He reached for
the bedside lamp and rubbed his eyes. The alarm clock gave the time of 5:00 a.m.
He wiped sweaty palms down his thighs. “Jesus fucking Christ, what idiot turned
off the bloody air-conditioning?”
He pushed to his feet and stamped across the room. He flicked
the switch on the wall thermostat, turning the temperature to the lowest setting.
The machine hummed into action and sent a wave of hot air into his face. “Fuck!
Get a move on and cool down this place.” He pushed sweat-soaked hair from his
face and headed into the bathroom to take a long cold shower. I hope we
have water.
A short while later, he moved out into the dark hallway and made
his way downstairs. The wonderful aroma of breakfast wafted up from below. His
stomach growled in appreciation. It had been a long time since he had eaten the
meager meal offered on the plane. A glow shone under the kitchen door, making a
triangle of light in the hallway. He could hear voices coming from inside. He
strolled down the corridor and pushed open the door. A middle-aged woman stood
at the stove in deep conversation with Tyler. His friend sat at the table,
drinking from a mug, a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. He raised his
blue gaze, and his full lips quirked up in a smile.
“Hey, boss, must say I’m surprised to see you up this early.” He
grinned. “Has your jet stopped lagging?”
“Very funny. Shame you don’t dress as sharp as your wit.” Kale
flopped down in the chair next to Tyler and yawned. “What day is it? I’m
starving and I feel like I’ve just walked across the Simpson Desert.”
“You’ve been asleep for about fourteen hours. This is Betty, by
the way. Betty, meet our boss, Kale Stone.”
Kale raised his head and smiled at the tidy, round woman. “Nice
to meet you, Betty. Can you make me some of what he’s got?”
“No worries, Mr. Kale.” She filled a cup with coffee and pushed
it toward him, then turned back to the stove.
“Sleep well?” Tyler ran his hand slowly up Kale’s thigh.
What the fuck? His impression of Tyler’s sexual orientation
slipped a few notches. Hope rose in his chest, hungry with expectation. He
sucked in a deep breath and willed his cock not to react to his friend’s
inquisitive touch. Too late. I’m going to be hard all day. Kale met his
gaze and searched his shattered mind for a few coherent words. “I slept like
the dead. How about you? Do you usually get up this early?”
“Oh, you can get me up any time of the night.” Tyler squeezed
Kale’s leg. His touch became bolder by the second, moving up his thigh to rest
on his groin. “Do you still ride?”
Kale choked on his coffee and met Tyler’s amused gaze. “Sorry?”
“I have a couple of horses, and I like to go for a ride before
work. Thought you might like to come—of course, after you’ve
recovered from jet lag. There’s been a heap of improvements since you left. We
can ride up to the new plantings. I’ll show you around.”
Kale accepted a plate of hot food from Betty and then turned his
gaze to Tyler. “Sounds good, but I have a pile of paperwork to go over, so give
me a couple of days.” He sipped his coffee. “Tell me, are you still doing the
rodeo circuit?”
“Nah, no time, but I do enter the local events. I won a thousand
bucks last year, bull riding.”
Kale raised a brow. “Bull riding? Hell, that’s dangerous.”
“Depends on the bull.” Tyler grinned wolfishly.
