Page 13 of No Rhyme or Riesling

“You sure?”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I know you won't relax otherwise,” he teased. “Yeah. I'm sure.”

“Okay.” John stood. “Why don't you do the dishes while I start some laundry?”

Adam jumped up and grabbed their plates. “Yes, sir.”

John winced as Adam whirled away.Christ. He loved the way Adam always obeyed him, but thatsirhurt. Every time. It didn't help that he heard the lowercaseswhenever Adam said it. Other than the first time Adam had used the term, testing it out, it had always come out as a mere word instead of anything remotely resembling a title. Not that Adam didn't respect him. John knew better. But it was like even Adam knew thatsirwas the wrong word.

But John knew Adam would never use the title he really wanted.Fuck. He ached to hear Adam call himDaddy, but that was never going to happen.

Adam had made that very clear.

John lost himself in his chores, trying to distract himself from things he couldn't have. When he finally stopped to take a break and noticed the time, he realized the party was about to start and that they were going to be late.

“Hey, sorry,” he told Adam, who was pulling a load of laundry out of the dryer. “I completely lost track of time.”

“It's okay,” Adam said, giving him a sweet smile.

John watched him for a moment. Adam hadn't pointed out the time or said a word of complaint about spending the whole morning doing chores. “I can finish that tonight–”

Adam shook his head. “We're almost done.” He closed the dryer and hefted the laundry basket up onto his hip as he headed for the bedroom.

John watched him go, then hurried to follow.

They wrapped up the chores, got dressed, and loaded Adam's things into the truck. Since the party was clear on the other side of town, John could easily drop Adam off on his way home afterwards. John paused and ran back inside, snagging a couple of sealed wine bottles from his collection. Beau was always very generous, using his own inventory for the parties he threw, but John felt the need to contribute something.

He chuckled to himself as he pulled on his seatbelt and started the truck.

“What's so funny?” Adam asked.

“Just hearing my mom's voice in my head,” John replied. “You know.'Don't you dare go to a party without bringing something for the host.'”

Adam laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like her. Your mom was cool, though–” Then he let out a gasp and cranked up the radio volume as he sang along to “My Church” by Maren Morris.

John smiled the whole way across town, listening to Adam sing. When they reached Living in Zin Bed-and-Breakfast, his smile faded right into a grimace. The parking lot was full.Fuck. That meant way too many people, and he'd had enough of that for one week.

But Adam practically vibrated in his seat, excitement written all over his features. So John braced himself for Adam's sake, grabbed the wine bottles, and followed his boy inside.

A storm of noise assaulted him the moment they opened the front door. The foyer was empty, but the sitting room to the left—to say nothing of the tasting room beyond that—was crowded with people. Adam burrowed straight into the chaos, hugging and greeting his friends as he went.

John trailed along more slowly, cradling the bottles of wine with his left arm, freeing up his right to shake hands as he encountered each new person. He didn't see Ward anywhere, but there were plenty of other people to greet as he moved through the house. John bypassed people he didn't recognize, keeping his focus zeroed in on those he knew, hoping it would make the crowd feel less intense.

He saw his boss, Everett Scott, and the man's fiancé, Morgan Brewer, who worked with Adam at a coffee shop downtown. Next up was Maverick Jones, one of Beau's partners. Nearby were Beau and Maverick's two boys, Dakota Pratt and RyderSorenson. Dakota was chattering away with someone while Ryder huddled closer to the wall, talking to one of his friends, Nicky Parker. Ryder and Nicky worked together at the local warehouse that distributed John's wines across California.

Not far from Nicky were the boy's two daddies, Griffin Mitchell and Laurie Scott. Laurie was Everett's younger brother and was relatively new to the role ofdaddy, but it suited him. He'd definitely grown into it since he and Griffin had moved into town to be with Nicky.

In the tasting room, John spotted Adam hugging his roommate, Haven Winters. Just behind Haven was his boyfriend, Theo Armstrong, the tasting room manager at Vista Robles and probably the closest thing John had to an actual friend.

And, of course, standing behind the tasting room counter, surveying his domain with a subtle yet proud smile on his face, was Beau Renaud.

Beau spotted him and spread his arms. “John! You made it.”

John approached the counter and shook Beau's hand. “Thank you for inviting us.” He set down the bottles. “These are for you.”

The Frenchmantsked. “You did not have to do that, but I do appreciate it. Thank you. May I get you anything to drink?”

John barely hesitated, eyeing Adam a few feet away, then said, “Yes, please.” He was going to need it if he were to have any chance of getting through this party.

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