by Aiden Bates
“What’s that, the New York version of a restraining order? They’ll never give you one.” Adrian folded his hands behind his back. “I’m your brother, I’m the oldest alpha in your family, and I have your alpha on my side. We’re arguing with an omega who is clearly mentally deficient. They’ll give me legal custody of you, and of everything you own.” Adrian grinned, savage and wicked. “First thing I do is sell off this place.”
Austin’s mouth went dry, but he kept his outward cool. “Did you last look at a law book from the 1870s? Because seriously, you can’t legally get away with that anymore. You haven’t been able to legally get away with that for decades. Go back to the Pleistocene where you belong. And yes, I’m taking out an order of protection.” He dialed nine-one-one, and he hit send. “Hello, this is Austin Baines at Skaneateles Vine and Rind. I have two men in my store harassing me, one is threatening to force himself on me, if you could please send someone to remove them that would be fantastic.”
The dispatcher promised to send someone right out.
Adrian’s jaw dropped. “I can’t believe you just did that. You really are crazy.”
Kirby scowled and pointed a finger at the door. “Is this about that guy your brother said you were dating? Because I have the better claim on you. You know that.”
“You have no claim on me. No one has a ‘claim’ on me. People aren’t property. I don’t belong to you. Go away.” Sirens wailed in the distance. “Maybe the cops can put this into terms you can understand, since I’m obviously not getting through.”
“You’re going to have a great time trying to convince the courts of that.” Adrian’s face twisted into a sneer. “You’ll be begging to have Kirby claim you, just to get you out of the places they put you.”
A squad car pulled to a stop in front of the shop, blocking another car in. Two cops got out. Austin could see other squad cars nearby, providing backup. “You first,” he said, meeting his brother’s eyes.
The cops entered the store, hands on their guns. “What seems to be the problem here?”
Austin rose to his feet. “Hi. I’m Austin Baines. These men have come by the store several times in the past week or so to harass me about a claim that I’m not willing to accept. This man—” he pointed to Kirby “—told me that he would force himself on me if I didn’t accept. That does meet the textbook definition—”
The officer on the left, a woman, was already putting the cuffs on Kirby. “Damn right it does.”
“I’m his brother! Austin’s been promised to Kirby for a decade. Don’t you think that Kirby’s waited long enough?” Adrian could speak very persuasively when he wanted to. That helped him in his role as an investment banker, after all.
The male cop hesitated. “Don’t you think it’s time, son?”
The woman glared at the man. “Higgins? Shut up. That’s not how the law works and you know it. Did Mr. Baines tell you that you were unwelcome?”
“Well, yes, but he’s just an omega. He can’t possibly know his own mind. He needs an alpha—like me, or like Kirby—to help him to make those kinds of decisions for him.” Adrian smirked at the cops.
The woman took the cuffs out of Higgins’ hands and put them on Adrian herself. “I’m writing you up when we get back to the station, Higgins.” She called for one of the backup vehicles to come bring Adrian down to the station, and then she turned to Adrian. “I’m going to need for you to come down to the station to give a statement. I’m sure you’ll get your order of protection, but you need to come downtown to do it.”
Austin closed up shop without much regret. With that many cops around, he wouldn’t have gotten many more customers anyway. He also texted his lawyer.
Larry Wilde, Austin’s lawyer, met him at the sheriff’s department without delay. “Jeez, Austin. You almost never call me for work, but when you do it’s always a doozy.” He shook his white head and listened to Austin’s description of the case. “Fun times, buddy. Fun times. Also, I think your twin might actually be psychotic.”
“He didn’t used to be. Maybe I was a good influence on him.” Austin made a face. He didn’t know, or care, if he’d been a good influence on his brother. He only cared about keeping his freedom.
“Probably. You’re a good guy. Good for Skaneateles. You’ve got the emergency order of protection, and I’ll take care of everything with the longer-term order. I’ll let you know when and where to be. I can’t promise you anything, though. If the judge convinces them to head back to Texas, you might not get anything binding that will force them to stay away. Alternatively, if the judge is some kind of dinosaur that goes along with the whole ‘omegas need to be protected from themselves’ way of thinking, you’re hosed.”
Austin sighed and slumped against the bench. “Awesome. What about the other stuff Adrian was threatening me with? Can he actually have me declared incompetent and seize the shop?”
The thought had occurred to him before. He’d sometimes woken up in the middle of the night with it, but he’d pushed it away. He’d figured that Adrian, and the rest of his family, were content to leave him be and that the dreams were just expressions of his paranoia.
Now he wasn’t so sure.
Larry sighed. “It would be a very long shot. They would have to be able to prove extremely erratic behavior. We’re talking a whole lot more than just not wanting to be claimed here. We’re talking about not being able to run your business, hold a job, maintain basic grooming, or care for yourself. The way I see it, you don’t show any of those symptoms. You’ve turned that business from a hole-in-the-wall liquor store to a multi-million-dollar business, and you did it in a rust belt area too. You keep yourself up, you keep up your home, and you’re active in the community. I think you’re good.
“I think that it’s something that worries you, though. So I think that if you wanted, you could do something to protect your assets. I can draw up a living trust to protect your assets in the event that you’re ever found to be incompetent while unmated. I’ll send you some information now, and then I’ll draw up the document with the most recent information I have and get it to you in a couple of days. Does that sound okay?”
Austin nodded and sighed. It sounded fantastic, to be honest. “Thanks, Larry. I really appreciate it. If nothing else, it keeps them from getting at everything I’ve worked so hard for, you know?”
Larry snorted. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I’m sure that your brother does care about you in his way, but I’ve never seen family members threaten to have other family members committed when there wasn’t money involved. Mark my words, that’s why he’s really doing this.”
Austin grimaced, but he couldn’t argue the point. He hadn’t tried to hide, for crying out loud. He’d been right there, the whole time, for Adrian to find. No, it had to be about the money.
As he drove back to his own house, he felt his heart sinking. How could he have been so foolish? Skaneateles Vine and Rind had been featured in a major wine publication only a month ago. That would have been how Adrian got wind of his success. That would have been the prompt that brought two alphas to his door in the night. It had nothing to do with Kirby’s “lingering feelings” for him. How could it? Kirby didn’t know him at all.
The alpha who wanted him only wanted his money, not him at all. The alpha that he wanted treated him like he had a communicable disease. Austin locked every door behind him and crawled into bed. It was time for more Home and Garden Television, with maybe a little bit of Martha Stewart for his reading material. The more distractions, the better.
***
Cody hung his head and massaged his temples. Mrs. Svoboda probably wasn’t the actual, literal devil. The actual, literal devil wasn’t a thing. Was he? She? Was it possible that the Prince of Darkness was actually a Princess? A short, thin, middle-aged princess from Dewitt with a wooden spoon and language that would make a pirate blush?
It had been Austin who’d pointed out that the lady probably saw something in her future son-in-
law that she just didn’t like. After yet another meeting—at seven o’clock on a Monday night—Cody couldn’t say that the old bat wasn’t right. Something about Noah Mueller wasn’t quite right. He talked over everyone in the room and had an opinion on everything right down to the bride’s and bridesmaids’ dresses. “Fashion isn’t really Suzie’s jam,” he’d explained with a wave of his hand.
Neither, apparently, was the menu, the bar, the playlist, the reception hall, the guest list, or the people in her wedding party. No wonder Mrs. Svoboda was so upset.
Of course, being upset and concerned for her daughter was not a legitimate reason to sit around and try to throw a roadblock in front of everything related to the wedding. She should be handling her issues with the wedding more directly.
After all, little Suzie had said yes. She’d said yes and not much else, but she’d said yes. She hadn’t raised the slightest objection to any of Miller’s plans, not once in all of their meetings. She’d just sat there, nodding and accepting everything her fiancé said. Maybe they’d agreed to everything ahead of time, how was Cody supposed to know?
Maybe Mrs. Svoboda’s issues were legitimate, and maybe they weren’t. What Cody did know was that nothing was being helped by the old bat’s interference. Mueller was footing the bill, so Cody couldn’t take her objections into account. The fiancé just steamrolled right over everything in his path, raising his voice to try to be heard over the old lady. It all gave Cody a headache.
He wished that he could call Austin. Cody had friends, of course. He had family. None of them were people he could really call on in a situation like the one he was in. Austin had an ability to cut right through to the heart of a problem, to see what was really going on. Cody would bet money that Austin would find a way to fix the situation too, and one that didn’t involve a baseball bat and two bleeding stakeholders.
Cody had really shot himself in the foot there. He hadn’t just screwed up by kissing him and most likely wrecking a professional relationship that should have been fairly lucrative for both of them. No, he’d chased off a potential ally. Syracuse was getting better, or so people kept telling him, but the whole Central New York area was still deeply conservative. He had to be careful when he made friends, just to be on the safe side. An ally like Austin would have been invaluable.
An omega like Austin would have been a miracle.
Cody got up from his desk in disgust. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t in the market to claim an omega. He’d gotten his heart broken once, he didn’t need to let it happen again. And Austin would be the worst. Cody would be impossibly arrogant to think that he, of all the people who had tried and failed, would be the one to bring the wild and free omega into domestic life.
He could tell Austin that he didn’t want to cage him. Cody could say it until he was blue in the face, but Austin wouldn’t believe him. He’d heard it before, or so he said, and he didn’t have a reason to lie about it. He could tell Austin that he didn’t want kids either, but he’d be lying about that. He wanted kids, but he’d give that up for Austin.
Austin wouldn’t listen, and he had no reason to. He didn’t see that submission had anything to offer an omega.
Cody needed to get control of himself. Austin wasn’t going to accept him. He’d taken the kiss like a good sport, but that had been all. He hadn’t wanted more. Cody would never get to taste those soft, delicate lips again. He needed to harden himself, to avoid Austin, and to keep every interaction strictly professional. That meant no friendly emails to go along with orders for wine.
It absolutely meant no calling Austin for help with his clients’ family drama.
He opened his email. Austin had apparently received his order of wine for the De Fiore wedding. He replied with a few simple words: Order received. Pickup Nov. 10, 3 PM. That was all. There were no warm, funny little notes. There weren’t any personal messages. It felt as cold as the ground outside.
Of course Cody had started it, hadn’t he? He’d sent out his order from the Blue Bells account, with nothing more than the order and the terms. That was all. Cody could see it right in front of him; Austin had simply responded in kind. Cody had meant to be professional, but it had been brusque and rude instead, and now he was stuck.
He’d gone and kissed Austin, and when he’d tried to correct course he’d overcorrected and capsized. Austin never replied like that. Should Cody nudge, maybe ask if everything was all right? Maybe that would help to mend their fences.
Or maybe that was exactly what Cody needed. He wasn’t looking for a new omega. He’d lost out on a new ally, but that was all. Austin wasn’t lost to him; he’d never have been part of his life to begin with. Cody made an appointment on his calendar, including travel time, to head out to Skaneateles and pick up the wine. He’d never make any kind of overture to Austin again. It was too much of a risk.
He needed to find ways to avoid Austin. The best way to keep their relationship purely professional, and to keep Cody from trying for more than either of them really wanted, was to minimize the relationship. He tried to think of ways to accomplish that, and the best way that he could think of to pull that off was to find other ways to get his hands on good wine.
He’d lose out on getting Austin’s recommendations, of course, but he was willing to take that risk. He had to be.
He went to a wine store near his apartment, a place that called itself a wine gallery. He’d never been inside, but he figured that it was as good a time as any. Their selection wasn’t huge. The choices were pricey and they all seemed to come from Italy, France or California.
Cody frowned. He didn’t know wine, and he didn’t pretend to know wine, but he definitely remembered Cody telling him that there was more to the world than those three places.
He approached the guy at the register, a portly man with thinning red hair who turned out to be the owner. Trent seemed nice enough, and he wasn’t nearly as pretentious as Cody figured he would be given that he ran a wine “gallery.” When Cody asked Trent about Pinotage, though, Trent’s shoulders slumped.
“I don’t really carry South African wines. I just don’t know enough about them to sell them, you know? And it’s a shame, too, because what I have tried I’ve liked. You know who’s got a decent selection of South African wines? Skaneateles Vine and Rind out in Skaneateles. The guy who owns the place is incredible, and I’ve never met a guy who knows wine half as well as he does. If you want something easy, I’m your man. If you want something that’s a little more up-and-coming, though, he’s the one you want.”
Cody didn’t need to be told that he wanted the owner of Skaneateles Vine and Rind. “We’ve met,” he said. “He’s an interesting fellow. Texan, I guess.”
Trent chuckled. “Yeah. I don’t hold that against him. Hey, he’s hosting the monthly wine tasting next week, on Wednesday. You want to come with? It’s always a good time, and this time he’s actually having hors d’oeuvres instead of just cheese. It should be a blast.”
“I’ll pass, thanks.” Cody held up his hands, close to his body. “I’m not really a wine guy. I’m a wedding planner, and I’m just looking for some new sources, you know.” He took Trent’s card and thanked him, but he didn’t hold out much hope that Trent would be able to get him what he needed.
He tried another place, the Discount Liquor Superstore out on Erie Boulevard. The Discount Liquor Superstore had named themselves the way that they had because they hadn’t wanted to leave anyone with any illusions about their business model. Cody was able to find some good deals on hard liquor for the bar, but the wine selection was only marginally better than what he’d found at Trent’s. The owner, a greasy-haired woman with piercing blue eyes and freckles, gave Cody the same advice that Trent did. She just wasn’t as conciliatory about it.
“You know, when I opened this place up twenty years ago, I was the only game in town. At least I was the only game in town if you wanted anything that wasn’t a gazillion dollars. Then Texas Pretty Boy comes along and all of a sud
den everyone wants to go and gush at him, and his wine and cheese parties, and all of his weird-ass wine. It ought to be illegal. I’m telling you, no one should be able to get a liquor license unless they were born in the state.” She harrumphed and crossed her arms over her ample bosom.
Cody negotiated his deal for hard liquor and left as quickly as he could. He didn’t want to linger.
He tried a couple of other places, but they didn’t have anything different to tell him either. They were willing to sell him wine, of course, and to cut him an industry discount. They just all thought that going to Austin was a better plan.
Every wine vendor that Cody went to, all rivals of Austin’s, all told him to go to Austin for his needs. That said a lot. Austin was so well respected, even by his rivals, that they all recommended that a customer go to him. Why could Austin’s brother not see that stuff? Why couldn’t he just sit back and admire that kind of respect, and maybe leave his brother alone to be in charge of his own life?
On Wednesday, Cody went out to Skaneateles to pick up the wine he’d ordered. Austin looked exhausted, and he didn’t look all that thrilled to see Cody. He just looked up at Cody and managed the tiniest of smiles. “Jamie will help you out today.”
Jamie slouched over, an oversized Igor to Austin’s oenological Dr. Frankenstein. “Here, follow me, man.” Cody obeyed, at a safe distance since he didn’t want to have to breathe the fumes. He didn’t want a contact high, for crying out loud.
“Is Austin okay?” The words blurted themselves out of Cody’s mouth before he could stop them. “He looks a little under the weather.”
“I think he’s kind of down, man. He could use a good bong hit. That would set him up right, you know?” Jamie led him through the familiar warehouse. “He just had to take out an order of protection against his brother and that alpha guy who follows his brother around, so that’s got him down. It would have me down.”