At First Hate by K.A. Linde

Wright Rival

Chapter One — Piper

“It’s not that I hate Wright Vineyard,” I said, gesturing to the interior of the barn I was currently drinking in with my friends. I shot a pointed look at Jordan and Julian Wright, the owners of said establishment.

Jordan just quirked a smile. “I appreciate that considering you’re here for our one year anniversary event.”

I held up my wine glass. “See, Julian, I don’t hate it here.”

Julian held his hands up and said, “Hey, I didn’t say that you hate us.” He slid his arm around his girlfriend, Jennifer. “That’s just what Hollin has been spouting.”

I seethed at the very mention of his name. Hollin Abbey was…trouble. He was a thorn in my side on a good day, and a huge pain in the ass every other day. It was unfortunate that he was the hottest guy in town. He swaggered around like he was some Greek god to be worshipped. And worse, he knew how to push every one of my buttons

“Hollin is an asshole,” I spat.

Julian laughed. “Obviously.”

Jordan nodded. His girlfriend, Annie, flipped her long red hair off of her shoulder and leaned forward. “Yeah? You’re not new here.”

“It is kind of his specialty,” my roommate and best friend Blaire said. She’d ditched her signature baseball cap for the night, and managed to look just as stunning in jeans with her dark curtain bangs falling into her blue eyes.

Bradley shot me a dopey grin. “You should just ignore him, sweetheart. Don’t let him get under your skin.”

I gritted my teeth at the words coming out of my boyfriend’s mouth. It had been six months since Bradley and I had decided to try this for real. After years of on-again, off-again, it was now or never. He was perfectly nice and normal and everything. The kind of guy I should want happily ever with. Then why did every word out of his mouth make me want to cringe? Why did the thought of continuing this another six months seem more like a business arrangement than anything with passion? Why was I even doing this?

“Sure. Ignore him,” I said. “That’s a good idea.”

Blaire hid a smile behind her wine glass. Jennifer coughed to try to cover her own laugh. The three of us were roommates, and they’d heard the long diatribe of should I or shouldn’t I dump my boyfriend.

“Hollin isn’t great at being ignored,” Julian said with a smile of his own.

Jordan took a sip of his wine. “We kind of have the entire winery because he was that persistent.”

Jordan and Julian had all of that Wright charm with the dark hair and eyes, enough charisma to spare, and the dominance of someone who always got what he wanted. But the knowing look on both of their said that they’d heard about the worst of my relationship too. Wonderful.

“Just ask every girl he’s three date ruled,” I said with an arched eyebrow.

“Three date rule?” Bradley asked in confusion.

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. What he said isn’t true. I like it here. It’s just not Sinclair Cellars.”

“Touché,” Julian said.

My father had worked at Sinclair Cellars since he’d immigrated from Mexico in the ‘70s. After the owner’s kids had shown no interest in the property, my dad had worked his way up and been rewarded with ownership of one of the best vineyards in West Texas. I’d been working there since I was a kid—putting up Christmas lights for our annual display, serving hot chocolate, and giving tours—and now managed the entire property. It was in my blood.

“You have to admit the barn is great here though,” Bradley said obliviously.

“Sure,” I ground out. Whose side was he on? “But the wine is better at Sinclair.”

Jordan winced. “Hey, our new vintage is impeccable.”

“And yet we’re not drinking that.”

“Take that up with Hollin,” Julian said with a smirk.

Blaire snorted, Jennifer kicked her foot, and Annie looked like she was going to interrupt. I didn’t want to hear it from them. It wasn’t fair that they knew all my problems when they were all so happy. Well, not Blaire. She was single. But the other two!

“Whatever,” I got out before Annie could speak up. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

“Hey,” Bradley said. He leaned forward and planted a sloppy kiss on my cheek. “Come back soon.”

Then he tipped a little farther forward. Everything happened in slow motion as he lost control of his wine glass. I tried to jerk back but wasn’t fast enough. The glass slipped out of his hand, and the red wine splashed out…all over my white shirt.

“Fuck,” I cried.

I jumped backward and threw my hands into the air. The glass fell onto the hardwood floor and shattered into a thousand pieces.

“Oh shit,” Bradley said.

I stared down in horror at the huge red stain spreading across my favorite shirt. There was no way it was salvageable. Not with this much blood red wine all over it. I’d have to toss it. Fuck.

I was still staring down at my shirt as everyone went into motion. Julian and Jordan ran for something to clean up the mess. Annie pulled the chairs out of the way of the mess. Blair and Jennifer pressed napkins to my ruined shirt. And Bradley…he just sat there, his mouth hanging open, utterly helpless. This was far from the first time that wine had spilled on me. It was sort of an occupational hazard considering I worked at a winery. But this had been avoidable. My anger was threatened to boil up and unleash on him.

Blaire stepped between us as if she could see what was about to happen. “I think I have a jacket in my car.”

“I…I have a shirt. A gray shirt in the side of my gym bag,” Bradley said with a cough. It was as if he had suddenly realized he should do something. “I can go get it.”

“No,” I said. I stepped away from my friends. “I’ll get it. I don’t want to stay here any longer.”

“I can go with you,” Bradley offered, a little manically.

But then Julian was back with a broom in hand. Jordan threw a towel at Bradley. I’d never been so thankful for the Wrights.

I didn’t so much as flee as stomp angrily through the crowded barn and outside into the chilly night air. My hands were clenched into fists. I wanted to kick something. Mostly my boyfriend.

Bradley’s truck was parked at the back of the lot wedged between two other giant trucks. I jerked open the back door and grabbed for the gym bag. His shirt wasn’t going to fit me, but it would be better than wearing something soaked in wine. Maybe Blaire could work her magic and make it look okay. After all, she was the famous influencer.

I’d just ripped my blouse off when I heard a low whistle and then a low gravelly voice said, “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

My head jolted upward as Hollin Abbey came into view. Just the sight of him made my knees wobble. I wasn’t short by any stretch of the imagination and still he towered over me. He had on jeans and a white T-shirt, revealing the black inky lines of his full sleeve. His beard had recently been trimmed. His hair was a soft blonde and eyes so blue as to reach the endless depths of the ocean. When they caught sight of me shirtless, my breasts half-spilling out of the nude bra, they rounded wide.

I was too angry to be self-conscious. I balled up my shirt, threw it into the cab of the truck, and then put my hands on my hips. “Like the view, Abbey?”

He smirked, the cocky annoying look he always gave me. “Yeah, I do.”

I huffed. “I don’t want to deal with you tonight.”

He leaned against the truck next to Bradley’s, which I belatedly realized was his. He crossed his muscled arms across his chest. I averted my gaze so I wouldn’t stare at the bulging biceps and incredible chest. “Why are you naked out here? If you wanted more people to come to Sinclair, this probably isn’t it.”

“Fuck off, Hollin.” I yanked out a gym towel and patted down my skin. “Bradley spilled a glass of wine all over me. I’m getting a shirt.”

He snorted. “Smooth.”

“I didn’t think you were coming out tonight. Missing the one year anniversary of your own winery for a date.” That was what Julian had said. It seemed low, even for Hollin.

He took a few steps toward me. Always in my fucking personal space. “Jealous?”

“Not in a million years.” I glared at him and then went back to rummaging through the bag to find that damn shirt. “I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to be graced with your presence.”

“Don’t worry, Medina,” he said, his voice silky smooth. “I’ll always be around for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Save it for your next conquest.”

When I didn’t find what I was looking for, I pulled open the side of the bag. I sank my hand into it, and it closed around a box at the bottom. I froze.

Hollin must have read my change in body language. “What?”

With a gulp, I withdrew the box from the bag, praying to all things holy that it wasn’t what I thought it was. In the parking lot light, the black box was very clearly for a ring.

“Oh fuck,” Hollin said with a wide eyes. “Is that…?”

I gaped and popped it open. A glittering diamond ring peered back up at me. It was…not at all something that I would have picked out for myself. I’ve always liked simple things. I wasn’t one for big displays or crazy jewelry. This thing was almost gaudy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I breathed.

“Bradley’s proposing?” Hollin asked, his voice low with an edge to it that I’d never heard before.

“He sure as fuck better not.”

I closed the ring and threw it back into the bag like it was a grenade with the pin pulled. I shook my hands out. Fear blossomed in my stomach.

“Sure looks like he’s going to.”

“And why do you care?” I snapped at him.

Hollin chuckled. “Still got three dates with you, babe.”

“You’re going to get three dates with me over my dead body.”

“We’ll see.” All confident as if it was inevitable. He nodded his head at the bag. “What are you going to do about that?”

“None of your business.”

I found the gray shirt I’d been looking for and pulled it over my head. It smelled like Bradley, and for a second, I felt nauseated. He’d bought an engagement ring. He must have thought that I’d say yes. I couldn’t even fathom it. Was this his now or never?

Hollin frowned down at my shirt. “Not that.” He popped open the passenger door of his truck and tossed me a shirt from inside. It was a white button-up clearly three sizes too big for me. It smelled like musky cologne that made my toes curl in my boots. Hollin. It smelled like Hollin.

For the first time in our long acquaintance, I didn’t argue. I slipped Bradley’s shirt back off and pulled Hollin’s onto my curvy frame. I worked on the buttons, and when I was done, he stepped forward. I stilled, wondering what the hell he was doing. He took my arm in his hands and then slowly rolled the sleeves up to my elbow. His eye caught mine for a split second, and I stopped breathing. Then he switched to the other arm, drawing the fabric up inch after precious inch. My body tingled at every brush of his skin against mine. And I swore that he knew it too.

He grinned. “Tuck it in in the front.”

I did as he instructed with an eye roll. “This?”

He appraised me with a hungry glint in his eyes. “You look good in my clothes, Medina.”

I stepped forward, and his eyes rounded slightly in surprise before settling back to his arrogant know it all look. “When we get back inside, you’re going to keep your mouth shut about everything that happened out here.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll take a baseball bat to your Harley.”

He hissed. “Cold blooded, babe.”

I arched an eyebrow. Then I sauntered back inside as if I hadn’t just seen an engagement ring or been completely frazzled by Hollin Abbey of all people.