Whiskey to Wine Read online

  Floyd was immediately back in work mode. He responded to Bleu pointing him toward the main house, then steadily led Bleu around impediments.

  He could feel the snowflakes kissing his cheeks, and it made him laugh, the tiny little touches. So cold, and yet so easy to melt with the heat from his skin. Floyd shook his head, his ears flapping.

  “What are you doing out by yourself?”

  The words surprised him, and he tilted his head. “I’m sorry?”

  “You need some help? I thought you had a man to help out.”

  Oh, Ryan.

  “I’m good.” The house was forward and to the left.

  “You sure?”

  “Floyd is better at this than Ben ever was.” Ben had been his college assistant.

  “Okay. I just—”

  “I’m good. Seriously.” And even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t admit it.

  “The dining room is the other way.”

  “I’ve got a meeting with the owners.” He kept moving.

  “Oh.” Did Ryan sound disappointed? “Well, have a good night.”

  “Ditto.” Please God, don’t let me fall. Don’t let me…. Floyd stopped him short, and he reached out, finding the house. Okay. Left. Follow the house to the left.

  Floyd stopped him again at the steps, which he felt with his foot. Okay, railing. Oops. They were facing the railing. “Steps, Floyd.” Floyd got that one six out of ten, and this time it worked, Floyd squaring him up with the stairs by leading him in a half arc.

  Thank God.

  “Hey. You made it. Come on in, y’all.” His hand was placed on Stoney’s warm arm, and he was moving again, going into a toasty room that smelled of… “Chili dogs?”

  “Quartz had a craving.”

  “You can also have what Geoff is serving in the main dining room,” Quartz said, sounding very serious. “Daddy will send me for it if you want.”

  “God no. Chili dogs are proof there is a God and He loves us. Are there chips too?”

  “Yep. And coleslaw. Geoff and Uncle Ford are all weird about veggies at every meal.”

  Both Quartz and Stoney groaned in unison.

  “Potatoes are a vegetable.” Bleu reached out when Stoney stopped, touching the back of a chair.

  “That’s what I say. Let me take your coat.”

  “Does your dog need water?” Quartz asked.

  “He could use some, I bet. How can it be snowing and dry as a bone?” He pulled out the old joke, because that was something they could commiserate over, New Mexico and Colorado, even if the Texan in him didn’t get it.

  “I know, right? Come on, pup. I have some cookies in here too.”

  Floyd’s nails clicked on the floor. He never panicked when Floyd left him here. This was a good place.

  “Come on, let’s get you settled. You sure chili dogs are cool? Sometimes we just like to be… well, not fancy.”

  “If you promise not to stress if I spill on my shirt.”

  “Hell, buddy, I do that and I can see.” That was Doogie, the sound of him pulling back his chair loud. His footsteps must have been lost in Floyd’s and Stoney’s.

  “Hey, man. How goes it?”

  “Good. Good. Ford playing host tonight?”

  “Yep. Tomorrow’s my turn.”

  “Fun.” Doogie cackled. “Better you than me.”

  Stoney snorted. “You know I love the guests. Some days I just need to have chili dogs.”

  “I’m all over it.” Doogie cleared his throat like he always did before he spoke to Bleu. “Hey, Bleu. Didn’t expect to see you up for ski week.”

  He almost blurted out the surprise, but he caught himself just in time. “Ford invited me. I’m going to try skiing, have a few snowball fights, and relax for a little bit. Let the clay dry off my hands.”

  “Oh, cool.” Doogie made him laugh, because that was it. He lost interest.

  “I like to ski,” Quartz said.

  “Do you?” Of course Quartz would. He was a mountain kid. “Have you been doing it your whole life?”

  “No. Just since I was three.” Only a tween could sound so offended.

  “I haven’t learned how yet.”

  “Well, no. You’re blind. What if you hit a tree?”

  “Quartz!” Doogie sounded all offended. “You can’t ask things like that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s… damn Sam.”

  Bleu shook his head, chuckling softly. “It’s cool. Better to ask and find out, right? I’m going to have someone teach me. There are people that are trained to help guide blind skiers.”

  “Really? Like for real? Daddy! Daddy, did you know this? I want to do this. I want to be a guide.”

  Stoney’s laugh was warm with pleasure. “Sure, son. Let’s research how to get you the training you need.”

  “Cool! I could help people.”

  “You could. Your drink is at twelve, Bleu.” Stoney was moving around.

  “Thank you. What am I drinking?”

  “Oh! I got iced tea, but would you rather have coffee or something else warm?”

  “Iced tea goes great with chili dogs.” He was just tickled Stoney allowed him to come eat.

  “Thank goodness.” Stoney laughed right out loud. “I get to know someone a little, and I think I know what they want.”

  “That’s your job, isn’t it, man?” To ascertain what people needed. Ooh. Ascertain. Ten-cent word. Go him.

  “I guess? It’s what I do.” Stoney set the best-smelling plate in front of him. “There are onions, mustard, ketchup, and relish because Ford taught my son how to eat like someone not from Texas.”

  “Oh good Lord and butter….”

  They started laughing together, and then Doogie joined them.

  “What’s so funny?” Quartz asked, which just set them off harder.

  The door opened and closed, the smell of woodsmoke strong. “Did I miss something?”

  That was Stoney’s best wrangler, Tanner.

  “They think chili dogs are funny.”

  “Ooh. Weenies. Is there enough for me too?”

  “You know it, buddy. You know Bleu.”

  “I do.” Tanner pressed a hand to his shoulder. “Glad you’re here.”

  “Hey, Tanner. Did you have a good Christmas?”

  “I did. It surprised me, because my girl dumped me at Thanksgiving.” Tanner was chuckling, so clearly it wasn’t a horror.

  “Oh man. I’m sorry. I mean, I get it. I moved out of Dan’s in November.” It hadn’t been sad, though. It had been liberating.

  “Aw, man, that sucks. Did you find out his people were scary Oklahoma, uh, devout folks?”

  “I found out he was allergic to Floyd. More importantly, I found out that I was… bored.”

  “Oh, I’m not sure if that’s better or worse.” Tanner hooted. “Her folks kicked me out. Her daddy didn’t even bother to offer me a check or nothin’.”

  “Wow. Impressive. ’Twas the season.” He found his iced tea and drank deep.

  “Well, I didn’t have to get any of them Christmas presents.”

  “Hand me the mustard, Quartz?” Doogie asked.

  No one wanted to know if he was okay, or if he needed help.

  “You want relish too?”

  “God no. Freak of Nature Boy.”

  “Uncle Ford says relish is love.” Quartz didn’t sound worried at all.

  “Your Uncle Ford also says that your daddy is pretty, little man. I can’t trust his word.”

  Bleu began to chuckle around his hot dog. Oh man.

  “He’s not?” Now Quartz was all exaggerated surprise. Sarcasm, thy name was an almost teenager.

  “Bleu, back me up here.”

  He opened his eyes comically wide, staring toward where he hoped Stoney was sitting. “He’s the finest thing I’ve ever seen!”

  Stoney chortled, and this time Quartz joined in. God, this was fun.

  And chili dogs with relish? Not bad. Not bad at all.

  Chapter Four

  RYAN had put on a clean shirt for supper, mainly because he didn’t want to upset Ford, who could be a snazzy dresser. It certainly wasn’t for Bleu, especially since the man wasn’t coming to supper. Or seeing Ryan even if he did.

  Not that he was let down or anything.

  There were about a dozen men in the dining room, the main communal table set with heavy stoneware, no delicate china here.

  “Hey! Did you want a table to yourself or did you want to join us all at the big table?” Ford grabbed his hand and shook it.

  “I’ll sit at the main table, absolutely.” He had to admit, Ford looked happy and totally at home here, wearing a pressed button-down and Wranglers, gorgeous ostrich boots.

  “That’s the best choice.” Ford guided him to a chair next to a burly man with a shock of white-blond hair, and across from the guy who was here with Bleu.

  “This is Sam Johnson. He’s up from Austin. He owns a design company. And this is Dan Klah—he’s in fine art.”

  “Hey.” He nodded at Dan and then shook Sam’s hand. “Ryan Shields. I’m from Vail for the time being.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’ve seen you on the slopes. Impressive.”

  “Thanks.” Business he understood, and skiing and snowboarding was business. “It’s what I’m good at.”

  Sam was adorable—tow-headed and sweet, young and clearly interested.

  Dan, on the other hand, watched him intently, as if trying to figure him out.

  “Bleu didn’t come to supper?” Ryan asked, just to see what Dan would say.

  “Hmm? No. He’s staying in tonight. He wasn’t well.”

  Ryan tried to school his face. Huh. Bleu wasn’t talking to this guy already?

  “Oh no! That’s awful. Your
first night here too. Maybe it’s the altitude?” Sam seemed so sincere.

  “He lives in Santa Fe,” Dan said. “I think he just didn’t want to be in a dining room.”

  Wait. Mr. I Can Do It was scared to eat? He’d eaten with Bleu for five years—in restaurants and at home, in the cafeteria and in bars. He had always been so easy in his skin.

  Maybe that was why he was going to the family area instead of here….

  Double huh.

  Geoff’s assistant, Tiny, started bringing out bowls of stew in his huge hands. The stuff smelled like heaven, and his mouth actually watered. “Thanks, Tiny.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll bring cornbread shortly.”

  “Smells amazing,” Dan said. “I love the food here.”

  He wanted to ask why Dan wasn’t eating it with his hubby, but he bit it back. Maybe he was just bitter that his relationship hadn’t worked out with Phil so he had no one to show off to the ex.

  “Have you both been here before?” Sam asked. “This is my first time.”

  “Yeah. I come back every chance I get.” Ryan smiled for Sam, knowing how hard it was to be new, and apparently alone.

  Sam blushed for him, grinning back, the expression going eager.

  He’d have to be careful, because he wasn’t looking to hook up, but he could always use more friends. “So, what do you do in Texas, Sam?”

  “Commercial art—you know, album covers, book covers, advertising, packaging, websites.” Sam smiled at Tiny as he offered a piece of cornbread. “Please, thank you, sir.”

  Tiny gave the guy a slow once-over. “You’re welcome.”

  Oh, look at that little shiver. Tiny was something else, huge and tattooed, with long, silky black hair pulled back in a tail and a beaded, braided beard. He would probably turn Sam inside out.

  Ryan was jealous.

  He turned to smile at Dan, who chuckled. “So you knew Bleu in college, he said? Hopefully you two can carve out time to catch up this week.”

  “Oh, yeah. Uh, sure. We could catch up.” He didn’t roll his eyes.

  “I’d love to hear stories about when he was just a kid. I can imagine he was adorable.”

  “He was a voracious learner and a great debater.” He chuckled. “Adorable? Maybe.”

  Bleu had been wild, had been eager to try everything, had been utterly ready to play. Just like him, come down to it.

  They’d hurt each other good, but they’d loved like crazy too.

  “A debater? Really? How interesting. I don’t know that I’ve heard him have an opinion on anything but what to charge for his work.”

  He blinked. Surely Bleu hadn’t changed that much. “Did he have a terrible accident or something?”

  “Not that I know of, no. I mean, he does have his moments, but usually he’s fairly graceful.”

  “Oh. I guess he just used to be more… outgoing.”

  “He’s very focused on his work these days. Between commissions and his original pieces, he’s quite in demand. Our job is to keep him focused.”

  “Our?” Sam raised his brows. “Like, more than one of you?”

  “Me and his agent, Rob. We handle him together.”

  “Ah.”

  Handle. Lord have mercy, this guy was a piece of work.

  “I employ ten artists for my design company, so I get that. Managing creative people is a… well, an art form.” Sam looked happy to be in on the conversation.

  Ryan snorted. “My manager says it’s like herding cats. I am not a cat.”

  “No? More like a sled dog?”

  He looked at Dan, eyes narrowing. Well, hello snarky. “Arooo.”

  Sam chuckled softly. “Very nice. I have bassets at home. I know from howling.”

  “Oh, I love hounds.” He did. He’d had a bloodhound when he was a kid. “All that personality.”

  “And drool. There’s some drool involved.”

  “Always.”

  Dan shuddered. “Hair. Dogs are so hairy. Makes me sneeze. I’m just not a fan.”

  Wait. Wait a minute. Bleu had a Seeing Eye dog. Was this guy the biggest asshole on earth or what? He shook his head. “That must suck, what with Bleu’s Seeing Eye dog.”

  “God yes. Floyd sheds everywhere.”

  Sam was looking back and forth at them now, so Ryan put on a smile. “The stew is amazing.”

  “Isn’t it? I’m loving the cornbread. I wonder if there will be more.” Uh-huh. Sam was wondering if there would be Tiny.

  “I bet there will. We’re a bunch of hungry guys.” The whole platter of cornbread was gone.

  Sure enough, Tiny came out about two minutes later, bearing cornbread and crescent rolls too.

  One platter was left on one end of the table, and then the second platter was offered to Sam.

  “Thank you.” Sam took one of each.

  “You’re welcome, honey.” Tiny’s voice was deep, rumbly, and really, really inviting. To Sam.

  Sam reached in his wallet, pulled out a business card. “I’m in cabin five.”

  “Are you now?” Tiny winked before placing the tray in front of them to head back to the kitchen.

  “It’s worth a try, right, guys?”

  “You know it, man. I can tell you Tiny is a nice guy as well as a hot guy.” Ryan clapped Sam on the back.

  “Thanks. I want to take my chances.”

  Dan nodded sagely. “I say go for it. Life is short.”

  “Exactly.” Okay. That was a totally reasonable response. He clinked his glass of tea against Sam’s beer bottle. “Go you.”

  Sam’s grin was wicked, wild.

  Ford came over to pull out a chair next to them. “All right, why are you all grinning like fools?”

  “Sam here is coming on to Tiny.”

  Sam flushed deep, but he laughed, and Ford hooted. “He’s something, our Tiny.”

  “Yessir.”

  “Oh, Lord love a Texan.” Ford leaned against his shoulder, casual and relaxed. No stress.

  Ryan was the one to laugh out loud this time. “You do.”

  “I do. I apparently have a long-term craving for the cowboy type.”

  “I get you.” He nodded firmly. Not that cowboy was his thing, really. Texan? Oh, yeah. He had been known to get all over that.

  He waited for Dan to agree too, but he didn’t say a word. This man was strange as hell.

  He raised a brow at Ford, who shrugged. God, was Bleu safe? Was he okay?

  “So where’s Stoney tonight?”

  “In the family part of the house. The wranglers and Quartz really prefer to eat in the old dining room, which is like it was when I grew up.”

  “Ah, nice and casual, hmm?” So, no meetings with the owners. Just dinner with the working class. What the hell was going on with Bleu and this Dan guy? What?

  It sounded like Bleu, though. Having the casual supper instead of the more formal.

  He got it. He did. Luckily, nothing at the Leaning N this week was going to be fine dining but the Ski Weekend party.

  And this stew was heavenly, and he’d been the one to request it. He crumbled more cornbread into it, then grabbed a roll to dip. He did love bread in and with his stew.

  He yammered with Ford about the snowpack, about the best coffee in Aspen, about the amazing belt buckle Stoney had made for him.

  Dan watched him carefully, which was a little unnerving, so he didn’t linger over coffee and dessert. He asked Tiny to wrap up his apple pie for him.

  “Here you go, Ryan. You call the kitchen if you want ice cream for it later.”

  “Thanks, guys. I’ll see you in the morning sometime.” Maybe he’d have breakfast in the kitchen with Geoff.

  “Night!” Sam waved, so Ryan winked.

  “Good luck,” he said before heading out. He started for his cabin, which was still only his for the time being. On the way past the family wing of the house, he glanced over, looking through a window where light glowed.

  Bleu was sitting there, half of a chili dog stuck to his cheek, laughing his ass off with Stoney and a couple of the drovers.

  Ryan paused, blinking. This was the man he knew, not the one Dan had described.

  Stoney’s son stood there, eyes wide, and then he began to laugh too, like he wasn’t sure he ought to.

  Oh, Lord. Bleu was doing that shocking blind guy thing. How many times had he seen that? Bleu making fun of himself to make someone else feel more relaxed?

  A lot. Some of the time with him. Ryan smiled, feeling kinda interlopery. He should move on.