Page 133 of Rare Blend
Am I acting like a caveman, staking a claim to my girl? Yes, I fucking am. Do I give a shit? Nope.
“I was looking for you,” I murmur against her temple, still holding her close.
Her eyes meet mine and the relief she expresses knowing I’m by her side makes my chest swell.
An obnoxious throat clears, forcing me to acknowledge him.
Having been on the job a few months now, I actually have picked up some useful customer service skills. I extend my hand to him. “Ethan Ledger. Welcome to my winery.”
We shake hands, and he is very obviously trying to grip my hand with all of his strength, but it still feels limp and weak, like the bitch he is.
“Brandon Beaker.” He looks between Marisa and me, his eyes lingering on her too long for my liking. “I see you have a type, Risy. Tall white guys with money.” He chuckles, as if his joke is really fucking funny.
“Do you two know each other?” I ask, my voice overly bright. Maybe I have a little more of my dad’s charm than I thought.
His jaw ticks, his eyes narrowing at Marisa before he plasters on a smarmy smile. “We used to date. Even lived together. Not sure if she mentioned it, but it was only a few months ago.”
I shrug, shaking my head. “I can’t say I recall hearing anything like that. She mentioned a piece of shit ex who cheated on her and fucked with her career, but never even bothered to tell me his name.”
Marisa’s lips roll, holding back a smile.
“Nice little winery you got here, by the way. Reminds me of a similar winery in Sonoma, but they’re larger scaled, international. You know the kind.”
He thinks what he said is a dig, but all that did was reveal how stupid he is. Like I give a shit about some winery in another state.
When I don’t indulge him with an answer, he sets his sight on Marisa. “So, this is where you ran off to? The discount version of Napa.” He laughs again, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. This guy is a fucking tool, and I can’t imagine a world in which he was able to land a woman like Marisa.
“You’re drunk, Brandon,” Marisa says with a dull voice. “Go back to your party.”
It didn’t occur to me that he’s drunk, but that’s when I notice his glassy eyes and the way he’s slightly swaying. I was too blinded by my simmering rage. I didn’t see the signs.
“You moved on quick, huh? But I know the truth. You miss me, don’t you, Risy. I bet it takes everything in you to not scream my name while he’s fucking?—”
“That’s enough,” I bark. Stepping away from Marisa, I grab him by the collar and pin him against the wall. A man can only be so tolerable, and I won’t have him speaking to her that way. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“You think she’s yours, but she’s not,” he says through his strangled breath. “She’s always going to think of me. You should’ve seen her face when we broke up. Fucking devastated, it was pathetic.”
I yank him forward and slam him back against the wall. “She can’t even remember her own name after I’ve had her, let alone yours. Now, unless you want me to rough up that pretty boy face of yours, I suggest you leave. And if you’re not off the estate property within the next five minutes, I’ll have you arrested.”
“Yeah,” he huffs. “For what?”
I laugh a humorless laugh, shoving my face to his. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a small town, and I know every single person on the force. I’m sure they’ll think of something to charge you with.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. The fuck is going on?” Shane asks, with a devilish grin, Gavin behind him looking like Jack Reacher. Elyse must’ve grabbed them.
Gavin’s gaze meets mine, and I slowly let up on Brandon.
“Why don’t you go be with your girl and Shane and I will take care of our special guest?” Gavin nudges his head, and I look to see Marisa, watching everything with her face twisted in concern.
My hands release Brandon completely, and he slumps against the wall. Before I hand him off to Shane and Gavin, I can’t help but get in one more dig.
“Might want to look into getting some plugs for that bald spot, looks like shit.”
I leave him, letting my brothers handle the rest. An audience has gathered, guests from both events watching the drama unfold. But for once in my life, I don’t give a damn. Because all I see is Marisa. She’s all that matters.
CHAPTER 48
Marisa
