Nelly
The vineyard is the last place I expected to end up.
I'm just not a wine person. I'm not really a drinker at all, if we're being honest. But after striking out at the hotel in town, it's apparently my only option.
The lobby had been packed with people when I arrived.
Families displaced by the flooding. Travelers stranded by the storm.
Contractors and insurance adjusters rolling into the valley, ready to make some money.
No vacant room.
Not a single one.
The woman behind the desk had taken one look at me and said, "You might try the vineyard. Sometimes they keep a few rooms available."
So now I'm sitting alone at a table in the restaurant, staring at the cheapest thing on the menu.
I really need to stop spending money. But when my stomach growls, I know I have to do something.
Unfortunately, my body doesn't seem to care about my budget.
What was the last thing I ate, anyway? I close my eyes and take a moment to remember, but all I see is them.
Nash, with that cocky grin and Levi with his rut-addled eyes. Beau and that kind smile…
The last thing I clearly remember having is a milkshake.
But I have no idea how long ago that was.
A sigh escapes me.
"Bad day?"
I glance up to find a tall man in dress pants and rolled up sleeves standing beside my table. He's got a plate of food balanced precariously on his fingertips, and it smells divine. Probably something I can't afford.
I peep his name tag, and it says "Walker."
"Just a little," I say as I go back to looking at the menu.
Instead of responding, however, he whips that massive plate of food in front of me. Is he teasing me? Is this some kind of joke? But then he sets it down and removes his hand.
My brow furrows. "What's all this?"
"Food," the man says as he walks away.
I stumble over my words before I find them. "But I didn't order anything?"
When he disappears into the dim lighting of the restaurant, I look back at the food. It's a great-looking plate. The steak sandwich is damn near the size of my head. There's a small bowl of fruit as well as potato salad.
"Don't want to forget dessert," the man says as he sets down a cinnamon roll the size of a plate.
My jaw drops. "That thing's huge."
"Compliments of Milk & Honey Pastries," he says, as if that explains it all.
"Do you guys always give your customers free weapons?" I ask as I look back up at the man. "I could frisbee that thing through the air and smother someone with it."
He just gives a polite chuckle. "Lemon poppy seed is the flavor of the season. Enjoy."
I look back down at the cinnamon roll and, sure enough, it's not a traditional one. I allow the smells to assault me, and my mouth waters.
"Wait a second," I say when I realize the man's just walking away, "I didn't order any of this. I can't—"
"On the house," he says without stopping. "Enjoy."
I have no idea what to do or say. The food smells incredible and looks even better. My gaze falls back to the plates, and my stomach lets out another raucous growl.
"Don't bite the hand that feeds you," I murmur to myself.
I'm not sure what's going on, but I'm not turning down free food.
Not by a long shot. So, I pick up my fork and dig in.
The first bite nearly makes me cry. The potato salad is perfectly seasoned, and the fruit is crisp and fresh.
I have to use a fork and a knife for the thick strips of steak slathered with horseradish on the sandwich.
"My God," I groan before I cut off a chunk of the cinnamon roll with my fork.
"Lia says these cinnamon—"
"Oh my god!" I exclaim breathlessly, whipping my head back up to the man named Walker.
He just nods before he sets down the small glass of milk. "How is everything?"
"Do you make any noise when you walk?"
He blinks. "No."
I look down at the glass of milk. "Thanks."
"Lia wishes to know how the cinnamon roll is."
I look at the bite on my fork. "Haven't tried it yet."
Walker just stands there, waiting.
All right, guess I've got an audience for this.
I place the bite of cinnamon roll into my mouth, and the lemon drizzle ignites my tongue. It's ooey, gooey, and chewy, and I don't even reach for the milk.
"Jesus," I whisper as I swallow. "You know who made this?"
"Lia. She's our head baker who runs Milk & Honey Pastries here on the grounds."
"Tell her it's divine."
"Will do. Enjoy the rest of your meal."
"And marry her if she's available."
That gets the stoic man to let out a laugh as he walks away. Before I can even think of thanking him again for all of this, he's disappeared into the crowd. I catch him a bite later chatting it up with another table and I briefly wonder if he runs the restaurant portion of this whole shindig.
No matter.
I've got free food to finish.
And apparently, my body desperately needs it because I demolish the entire meal within minutes.
I sit back in my chair afterward and groan. "Okay." I pat my stomach. "That might've been a mistake."
But at least I feel human again.
Mostly, anyway.
I look down and find a key card has been slipped onto the edge of the table. It's wrapped up in a piece of paper, and when I pick it up, I see it's just my reservation. One night at the vineyard, room 202, but the total?
Almost two hundred dollars.
For one night.
"Thank God the meal was free," I murmur to myself.
My eye twitches as I stare at the receipt.
Two hundred fucking dollars. I immediately do the math in my head.
Repair costs for the roof flutter around in my head, along with material costs for whatever water damage happened upstairs during the storm.
Then there's labor, though I'm sure Ford and Knox will, at the very least, let me do that on a payment plan.
Before I know it, I'm running projected profits and losses. I'm thinking about emergency funds and how mine is dwindling. Then the potential delays over selling the house overwhelm me as the numbers chase each other in circles.
I pull out my phone instinctively before I stop.
Normally? I'd call Beau in a situation like this.
He always knows how to calm my brain down when it comes to swirling numbers.
He'd pick up the phone and immediately tell me I'm catastrophizing, and then he'd spend the next fifteen minutes pulling up my spreadsheets and calculating things down to the penny.
I don't get to call Beau this time, though.
"Fuck," I whimper as I shove the receipt into my hoodie pocket.
Nash's hoodie.
The one I forgot to take off when I bolted.
I leave a bit of a tip on the table. It's not much, but I don't want to be a complete and total mooch.
I turn my head and stare out over the vineyard, which I have a pretty good view of from this window at my booth.
Part of my view is just the front gravel parking lot, but off to the right, rows and rows of grapes fill a third of the window.
I bet this place is beautiful at sunset.
I can't believe I'm here alone.
Beau would love this place.
"Should've made more friends in high school," I murmur to myself.
"Mind if I sit?"
I flinch at the random voice before I whip toward it and find a woman about my age settling into the booth across from me. She's got on a skirt and a cardigan with one of the most innocent smiles on her face I've ever seen. My gaze drops to her name tag, and it reads "Lia."
"Sure thing. I'm Penelope, though most people just call me 'Nelly.' Your cinnamon rolls are amazing, by the way," I say as my attention turns fully to her.
She smiles. "Lia. And, thank you. We do a flavor every season. Got a good deal on some lemons at the store here recently."
It's only then I realize she's carrying two mugs. She places one on the booth table and slides it toward me, and the smell of coffee wafts up my nostrils.
"Oh, you're a doll," I groan as I grab it.
"We got cream and sugars on the table if you want some."
I pause. "We?"
She nods. "I help run this place with my Alphas."
I blink. "So, Walker's…?"
She smiles. "Taken, I'm afraid."
That makes me laugh. "No wonder he smiled at me telling him to marry you."
She giggles from beyond the rim of her mug. "You did what?"
"I told him the cinnamon roll was so good that he should marry you."
Her head falls back with effortless laughter. "I'm glad you like them."
"Does he treat you right?"
Her head tilts. "Why's that your first question about my pack?"
My eyebrows raise. "You're packed up?"
She just nods.
I reach for some cream and sugar. "How much do I owe for the coffee?"
"Mm," she says as she licks her lips, "it's on the house."
I chuckle as I stir my coffee. "Is everything on the house around here?"
"When you book a room for the night, you get a warm dinner and a pastry."
I slowly nod. "That's… a brilliant loss leader."
"Ah, so you're a businesswoman."
I shrug. "Depends on how you feel about people who flip houses for a living."
She gasps. "Are you the girl who just worked on that home behind the chapel?"
My brows lift. "You're familiar with the property? Yeah, that was me. I finished that project up about three months before taking on the one I'm working on now."
"The one by the apartment complex, right?"
"Yep," I say with pride, "that's the one."
"You know, me and my Alpha, Knox—"
I straighten. "Wait a second, you're mated to Knox!? As in, Ford and Knox?"
Her smile is so bright and proud. "The one and only."
I scoff as I lean back in the booth. "I knew he had gotten mated off recently, but I didn't know the details."
"That honor goes to me."
"Good for you. He's a good man. Walker seems to be, too."
Her smile is genuinely happy. "Eli's mine as well."
I tilt my head. "I'm not sure I know the name."
"He works up at the school with Lo."
I blink. "I don't think I know that name, either."
Her brow furrows. "Not a local? I could've sworn you were one, working on these houses with that much passion."
"Oh, I am," I say as I take a sip of my coffee. "I just… don't get out much."
She giggles. "Same here. It's work and home for me, I'm afraid."