by Marika Ray
Backroom Boy
All-American Boy Novella
Marika Ray
Marika Ray Publishing
Contents
Foreword
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Also by Marika Ray
About the Author
BACKROOM BOY
ALL-AMERICAN BOY NOVELLA
by Marika Ray
Copyright © 2021 by Marika Ray
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
First Edition: February 2, 2021
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
Ebook ISBN:
Paperback ISBN:
Foreword
The All-American Boy Series
Welcome to Merlot, CA, an idyllic all-American town in wine country where love is in the air, the boys are grown as fine as the wine and the town is a breeding ground for second-chances, weddings, and brand-new beginnings.
The All-American Boy Series gives you a taste of 15 of your favorite bestselling authors’ brand new stories in this shared world experience. All books are standalone but may include cross-over in characters or scenes.
Grab a glass of wine, put your feet up and let us whisk you away to wine country.
The series includes the following books:
Sierra Hill The Boy Next Door
Poppy Parkes Boy Toy
Evan Grace The Boy Scout
Emily Robertson The Boyfriend Hoax
Kaylee Ryan and Lacey Black Boy Trouble
Kimberly Readnour Celebrity Playboy
Marika Ray Backroom Boy
Leslie McAdam Boy on a Train
KL Humphreys Bad Boy
Nicole Richard Hometown Boy
Remy Blake That Boy
Stephanie Browning The Boy She Left Behind
Stephanie Kay About a Boy
Renee Harless Lover Boy
SL Sterling Saviour Boy
Introduction
Getting mixed up with the boss’s daughter was never advised, but this winery heiress has a rebellious streak that makes me want to break all the rules.
Lukas
With dreams of owning my own winery, I moved to Merlot, California for the summer to learn about the winemaking business from a local winery. I would need to seize this opportunity if I stood a chance of succeeding on my own. Then the owner’s beautiful daughter came home from college. Her job? To work alongside me. Suddenly I have problems remembering my priorities.
Delta
As the heir to Black Bishop Winery, I was expected to take over soon, which was why Daddy forced me to work all summer, learning the ins and out of the winery. What he didn’t count on was me learning the ins and outs of a small town boy named Lukas—someone Daddy would never approve of.
When our young love gets tested, I'm left wondering if we can overcome the challenges our different worlds present…or were my parents right after all?
1
Lukas
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate you taking a chance on me.”
I shook the man’s hand, a trickle of doubt creeping in at how soft his palm felt against mine. Growing up just barely clinging to the middle-class lifestyle in a small town, I put a lot of stock into a man having some callouses on his hands to show me his character. But Mr. Bishop was giving me an opportunity I couldn’t pass up: the chance to work the back room of a winery in Sonoma Valley, learning the ins and outs of a successful business.
This was step one of achieving my dream, and a lack of callouses wasn’t going to stop me.
“You bet, Lukas. Here’s the key to the pool house and I’ll see you tomorrow at eight sharp.” Mr. Bishop placed a shiny gold key in my hand and sat back down behind his fancy desk, already moving on to his next task.
I hustled out of the room, and nodded goodbye to the various employees milling around the impressive winery that had been featured in architecture magazines over the years for its modern lines of glass and concrete. Starting tomorrow, I’d probably be getting to know those same people while I learned my position behind the scenes. At twenty, I was old enough to work the tasting room, but that wasn’t how things worked apparently. You started at the bottom rung and worked your way up. Good thing I had absolutely zero problem with that. In fact, I wanted to learn every single thing that went on with running a successful winery.
So I could copy it and open my own one day.
Wild dreams for a poor kid from a small town, but I had the American dream buried in my heart, pumping through my veins, and filling me with the motivation to prove it could be done. Some might say being hired to wash dishes for almost minimum wage and living in a rich man’s pool house wasn’t exactly living the dream, but I could see beyond all that to ten years down the road.
Hopping on my motorcycle, I surveyed the vineyards as far as the eye could see before strapping on my helmet and heading over to Mr. Bishop’s house. I’d applied for the job online, but my brother-in-law had put in a good word for me, having been a successful businessman for years up and down California. I secretly hated that I hadn’t gotten the job on my merit alone, but I was too desperate to begrudge the help. The summer loomed ahead of me and I was ready to put the work in to realize my dream.
“Well, holy shit,” I muttered to myself, making a left just down the road at the two cement pillars Mr. Bishop told me to look for. I pulled into a long driveway lined with tall green shrubs. “It’s like the West Coast’s version of a plantation.”
A castle of a house loomed ahead, the rock façade almost hidden by bushes and trees and all sorts of shit flowering in the warm summer sun. I slowed to take it all in, wondering who the hell cleaned all those windows. I couldn’t see Mr. Bishop putting in the elbow grease. A smaller path to the right of the property looked like the one Mr. Bishop had described. I cringed at the engine noise that bounced off the stone house, interrupting the serene gardens that flanked the acre lot. There, behind and to the side of the infinity-edge pool, sat a miniature version of the front house, vines growing up the front and everything. That would be my new home away from home for the summer and I was damn grateful.
I cut the engine and put the kickstand down, climbing off the bike I’d worked on almost every day the last year until it looked brand new. The small duffel bag strapped to the back was a pitiful display of how little I truly owned. I just didn’t care about clothes. Not when that money could be saved up for the plot of land I had in mind on the far southern outskirts of Auburn Hill, the town I grew up in, just a two-hour drive south. I threw the bag over my shoulder and pulled my new house key out of my jeans pocket.
Damn, the pool looked like an oasis I wanted to explore with its blue tile and gently rippling surface of cool water, but I didn’t think that part of the property was available to a lowly employee like me. Instead, I headed into the pool house and surveyed my new home.
The air inside was stale, reminding me of the old church Dad would open up every morning. Growing up a pastor’s kid hadn’t been easy, but helping my dad in the summers had been one of the highlights. Throwing my bag down on the hardwood floor, I went through the kitchenette and
opened the sliding window, then into the single bedroom and did the same. A chrome ceiling fan in the middle of the main room off the kitchenette was a nice find. Once that sucker got cranking, the whole place aired out just fine.
I spent the rest of the day putting clothes and toiletries away, hopping back on my bike to visit the closest grocery store for supplies, and reading up everything I could find about Black Bishop Winery. I may only be washing dishes, but I’d know that winery backward and forward from day one.
An owl hooted outside the kitchen window, pulling me out of a riveting description of the red varietals Black Bishop Winery had started with back in 1920. I blinked and realized it had gotten dark out. A quick glance at my watch showed it to be well past my usual dinnertime. I put down my research and headed for the kitchen to slap together a turkey sandwich. That was the extent of my cooking knowledge and what I’d lived on since Mom quit making my lunch sometime in high school. She’d hoped my lack of a good meal would spur me on to learn how to cook some basic dishes. She’d been sorely disappointed.
After gulping down my sandwich and a soda, I stretched my hands above my head and decided to get outside for some fresh air now that the temperature had cooled down. I grabbed the black leather jacket I wore when riding my bike and headed out. All the lights were on in the main house, lighting it up like a realtor would be coming by to take glossy pictures of what several million dollars could get you in Sonoma Valley.
The vineyards lay south of the house, so I headed in that direction. If I walked long enough, I knew I’d hit the main drag of Sonoma where the tasting rooms got closer together and the restaurants and shops sprouted up. Not being the most social guy, I had no plans on walking that far and seeing actual people. It was just me and the budding grapes on row after row of gnarled grapevines. By late summer or early fall, the grapes would be harvested, but for now, the vigneron would be watching the growth carefully. The wind swept through the plants, perfuming the air with a scent of sweetness and earth. I inhaled deeply, caught up in the differences between Sonoma and home, loving every minute of my alone time.
A flickering light up ahead caught my attention, but it was the giggle that had my ears perking up. Around the slight bend of the vineyard, a young woman came staggering up the dirt path, nearly wiping out multiple times in her platform shoes.
I sneered at the sight. What the hell was she doing walking on a dirt path in the dark in heels? As she approached, her nose stuck to the screen of her cell phone, she wasn’t even looking around for strange men who might pounce at the sight of her short skirt and oblivious nature. I kept walking, her lack of concern for her own safety none of my business.
We were only ten paces apart when she startled and looked up, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the darkness around us. A strand of her long blonde hair fell across her face, covering what looked to be pretty features. Which only made me more angry. Merlot wasn’t exactly a big town with a high crime rate, but a pretty girl walking home alone in the dark seemed like asking for trouble. I had a sister who I’d lecture for days if she pulled that kind of stunt.
“Oh!” she gasped, bobbling her phone and coming to a screeching halt.
Her bubblegum pink dress, far too skimpy for a late night walk even in early summer, twirled around long, tan legs. She tilted her head to the side, a flash of earrings sparkling in the moonlight.
“Do you need help?” I asked, staying where I was so as not to startle her further.
Her mouth changed from a cute little circle to a grin so wide it showed off identical dimples on either side of her face. “No, I’m good, handsome. Just heading home.” Her confident reply was ruined by a hiccup.
I frowned, trying to study her eyes in the dark. “Have you been drinking?”
The girl scoffed and waved her hand through the air like she was batting away a fly, but she listed to the side a bit. “Okay, Dad. It’s just me and the grapevines out here. Perfectly safe.”
She had been drinking. That much was obvious. As obvious as the fact that I’d have to walk her home if for nothing else than to prevent any guilt if she showed up in tomorrow’s newspaper as a dead body. Definitely not because she was the hottest girl I’d ever seen, but because it was the right thing to do. Didn’t appreciate the dad reference though.
“Just you and the grapevines and yet I found you. How about I walk you home, princess? Make sure you get there safely.” I still didn’t come closer though she showed no signs of being scared of me.
She shrugged and even that looked cute on her. “Suit yourself.” She gave me the once-over and I could feel her gaze linger across my chest. “You don’t happen to have a spare pair of shoes under that jacket, do you?”
The question was so absurd I couldn’t hold back the bark of laugher. “No, definitely not.” I came to my senses and shrugged out of the leather jacket, finally approaching her. “But here, why don’t you wear that so you don’t get cold.”
It may have been the moonlight playing tricks on me, but I could have sworn she blushed. She let me get close enough to drape it across her shoulders, the scent of something sweet and fruity drifting up to my nose. I leaned in closer when I should have backed away.
“Wow, a real live fucking gentleman, huh? Daddy would love you. Too bad all he got was a worthless daughter.”
Her words hit me and I jolted back, giving her space while we started to walk. I kept my pace slow in deference to her ridiculous choice of footwear. The girl was sweet to the eyes and nose, but she had a mouth on her. Color me intrigued.
“Nothing gentlemanly to want to make sure a girl gets home safe. I don’t want to be a suspect in a murder case having been the last one to see you alive.”
She chuckled and then tripped on a rock. I grabbed her elbow and pulled her back up, her soft skin registering even as I wanted to roll my eyes at her. She adjusted my jacket on her shoulders and kept going.
“I don’t know about that…” She paused and then squinted up at me. “I don’t know your name.”
I looked straight ahead, guessing we had another half a mile to the Bishops’ house. Who knew how long we had to walk to this girl’s place?
“It’s Lukas. You?”
“Delta. Not princess.”
I smirked. Ah, she had a sense of humor. “And how far are we walking tonight?”
She pointed ahead, her arm ramrod straight. “To the castle!”
“Um, and for people new in town, where would that be?”
She dropped her arm and wrapped it around mine, snuggling in close. I certainly didn’t mind, though taking advantage of a girl who’d been drinking was on my list of things never to do. I’d had right and wrong engrained in my head for too many years to cross that line.
“The Bishop estate. The one with all the stone.”
Warning bells clanged in my head, and suddenly I didn’t want her wrapped around me like that, as nice as it felt.
“Are you Mr. Bishop’s daughter?” I asked quietly, glad there was no one around to hear this conversation or report back to my new boss that I was walking around in the dark with his only daughter. My research into his winery had revealed that while the winery had been passed down to the Bishop sons for several generations, there was only one daughter in the current generation, raising speculation on if she’d eventually sell it all or take over the business herself.
“Yep! The one and only daughter to the great Black Bishop Winery empire.”
I sensed dark sarcasm and a whole truckload of daddy issues. I was also highly aware of each part of her soft body that pressed against mine as we walked. That fruity scent—was it mango?—floated all around me, driving me crazy. Why did girls have to smell so good?
We came up on top of a hill, the lights on in the Bishop house illuminating the rest of our walk. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say back to her. Part of me wanted to stop time and turn her toward me. Maybe take her face in my hands and memorize everything about her right before I kissed her. Find ou
t if she tasted as sweet as she smelled.
The other part of me wanted to run away as fast as I could. I wasn’t here to get messed up with a girl. Especially not this girl. I was here to learn everything I could so I could eventually open my own place. Be my own boss. Start my own empire.
A kiss with a drunk girl under the moonlight wasn’t worth tossing away this opportunity.
I came to a halt beneath an old oak tree, the branches blocking out some of the light streaming out of the Bishop house. Tugging gently, I pulled my arm away from her and stepped back. My hands went into my pockets where they wouldn’t make the mistake of reaching out and touching that soft skin.
“This is the end of the line for me. I can watch from here to make sure you get in okay.”
Delta tilted her head again, her eyes unfocused. “Okay, handsome.”
She lifted up on her toes, her hand bracing herself on my chest. Her lips puckered and my whole body froze. Shit. She was going to kiss me.
I turned my head at the last second, her kiss glancing off my cheek before she rocked back on her heels, unsteady as usual on her feet. She frowned at me and then winked, a combination that probably made sense in her alcohol-fuzzy brain.
She spun and walked off down the path. I watched her go, my gaze unable to focus on anything but the way the ends of her blonde hair swung right above her gorgeous ass with each step. I scrubbed a hand over my face and glanced around, making sure no one saw me. Halfway home, she turned back around, my leather jacket still on her shoulders.