Page 19 of No Rhyme or Riesling

_________

JOHN

JOHN EYED Adam at the other end of the bar.

Adam was drinking? Why? Since when? The boy had always adamantly refused any offers of alcohol whenever the two of them were together. Even up until last night. But Adam always looked like he was fighting some serious temptation whenever there was a bottle in front of him.

So why now? What changed?

“And so I told Daddy–”

John winced. He had no idea who had spoken, but that one word stood out above all others. The one word that Adam would never use.Christ. Was that the problem? Was Adam being reminded too much of the day he lost his dad?Hell. Was Adam's friend flat-out talking about his dad? Bringing up painful memories without realizing it?

He was about to go investigate when someone came to a stop beside him, startling him out of his thoughts. John found Everett standing there, chuckling as he looked at something across the room.

Shit. Every time he'd spotted Everett since he'd arrived, all John could think about was having to tell the man about theriesling vines. Thankfully, this was neither the time nor the place for that conversation. Not that John wanted to have it at all.

John knew he needed to man-up and say it, but the very thought of ripping out that section of the vineyard made his skin crawl.Christ. John took a sip of his syrah and glanced at Everett again, then waited. The man had clearly approached for a reason, yet Everett remained silent. John finally followed the man's gaze and spotted Ward still sitting in an armchair with some boy in his lap.

“Something tells me,” Everett began, “Ward just discovered a new side to himself.”

John looked from Everett to Ward and back as he processed that amongst the tumult of other thoughts running through his head.Oh.That must have been what Ward had been hinting at yesterday. Maybe the man was feeling bi-curious.

Everett chuckled. “I think we might even gain another daddy in our group.”

Christ. John took a big gulp of his wine to stop himself from cursing aloud. Was everyone going to get to be a daddy except for him?

Before John could come up with a suitable, polite reply—something that didn't sound harsh and bitter, let alone rude—Everett turned to him and clapped him on the back.

“Your boy is incredibly talented, by the way,” Everett said.

John couldn't help smiling at that. He had nothing to do with Adam's inherent gift, of course, but the compliment still filled him with pride, all the same. “Thank you.”

“Morgan's very excited to have him sing at the wedding,” Everett went on. “Though I'm sorry your date will be occupied for the whole thing now.”

John shook his head. He wasn't sorry. Not even a little bit. He'd agreed to go to the wedding as Adam's date, but he hadn't been looking forward to the social niceties and chitchat. Dancingwith his boy would have been fun, but he could take or leave that. But now that he could look forward to sitting and listening to Adam sing? John would gladly go to any number of weddings so long as he'd get to hear that mesmerizing voice.

“This chardonnay is excellent, by the way,” Everett said, holding up his glass. He chuckled. “Beau was right. I do enjoy your signature cab, but this one is easily my favorite. I'll never figure out how the man just knows things like that.”

John breathed a laugh and shook his head.No shit. The man really was oddly intuitive.

He eyed Adam again, watching the boy and his friend as they laughed hysterically about something.Christ. Adam was actually drunk! The boy was practically falling off the stool.

“I should go sayhito Ward,” Everett said.

“Yeah, of course,” John replied distractedly, glad for the excuse to walk away himself.

He waited until Everett left his side, then turned and made his way down the bar. John paused halfway, his gaze drawn to where Beau stood behind the counter. The man was washing a glass while watching Adam out of the corner of his eye, a curious look on his face. John frowned and changed course, heading for Beau instead.

Beau looked up from the glass in his hands and gave John a smile. “May I get you a refill?” the Frenchman asked.

John's frown deepened as he glanced from Beau to Adam and back. “Why did you serve him?”

Beau's smile vanished. His expression wasn't grave, exactly, but something close to it. “That boy needs to let something out. Something to do with drink. I do not know what it is, but it is clearly there, below the surface, needing to be released.” Beau paused, giving John a direct look. “I know you see it, too.”

John clenched his jaw. He did see it, but if it had anything to do with Adam's dad, as he suspected, it would only lead to moredramatic outbursts and heartbreak. And the last thing he wanted was for Adam to suffer more than the boy already had.

“He could have refused a drink,” Beau pointed out before John could voice any kind of protest.

---