Alastair: Bacchus Hill Boys, #1

By Dahlia Rose

Alastair grew up on those streets, played soccer on the Golden Mile, and did a lot of other things that would make his Da box his ears and his Ma blush. Still, that neighborhood thrived under his family's name and since his father died, he did the same thing that had been done for generations. He took care of the people in Bacchus Hill and that included her, their new resident, Eden King. His dolt of a cousin caused her a scare, and when he met her, Alastair's world shifted.

 

Eden was gorgeous, she was a spark that ignited his soul, but the big hurdle was a stark reality. He was fifty years old and she was sixteen years his junior, the same age as his oldest son. Trying to deny his attraction, only made it worse and Alastair seemed to gravitate toward his Eden… his desire. Would his sons accept Eden and that he needed her in his life? Did he look like a fool with a crush on someone so young? And who was trying to use her to destroy him and his family name?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Billie Arscnneaux
• Release date: Jan 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224372096

Dahlia Rose

Dahlia Rose is the best-selling author of contemporary, military and paranormal romance with a hint of Caribbean spice. She was born and raised on a Caribbean island and now currently lives in Charlotte, North Carolina, with her five kids, who she affectionately nicknamed “The Children of the Corn,” and her biggest supporter and longtime love. She has a love of erotica, dark fantasy, sci-fi, and the things that go bump in the night. With over six dozen books published Dahlia has become a reader favorite. Not only because of her writing but her vivacious attitude in talking to her fans online and at various events. Books and writing are her biggest passions, and she hopes to open your imagination to the unknown between the pages of her books. http://hearttoheartwithdahliarose.blogspot.com www.facebook.com/author.dahliarose www.twitter.com/dahliarose1029

Book preview

Chapter One

The air was already sweet inside the house. Fife was a riverside town right outside of Edinburgh. With River Forth meeting the North Sea, Fife was far away enough he could get some peace and quiet. It was also close enough he could get to the main house in Bacchus Hill and the family business. Alastair came downstairs past the cozy living room with the fire already lit and into the kitchen. Moira had already come and gone, fresh bread and cheese was on the table, two separate plates were in the warmer over the stove and his French press for coffee was laid out.

Alastair’s sigh was gruff, but not in anger or irritation. He had a deep voice, so any sound that came out of him could be perceived as aggression. Right now he was contented and set about making his breakfast. Sitting with the window open to his back yard, from there he could see the water and the fishermen out with their boats. His week alone had started and unless it was an emergency none of them should even consider calling him. The Bacchus name had built the neighborhood where they grew up and everyone in the ten-street area was loyal to him and his family.

When his Da died, he took over, to protect the people of that neighborhood. Any interlopers knew not to even try the Bacchus Hill Boys and some accused them of some shading dealings. Nothing could be farther from the truth. From the distillery to the bakery, anything that had the Bacchus name was sure to make a profit, and also made sure its workers had the same.

Alastair and his family made sure everyone was taken care off. Their money was made legally and sometimes even the police came to them for help with matters that needed handling in a certain way. They weren’t criminals, they just made sure things went right in their little slice of the universe. Being the patriarch of the Bacchus family was one of the biggest stressors in Alastair’s life. His brother had married and moved away, then came home and died, but the rest of the family chose to leave the hill to him. They just collected their profit from the business, a smaller portion of course, as per his Da’s directions in his will.

If you weren’t helping with the business or living in the area, you weren’t going to get an even share. Alastair did all the heavy lifting and took sixty percent, and the rest was shared between his family. He, himself, had three adult sons and four cousins who were all part of the family business. There were also others who became family by marriage, along with other workers that went down the line loyal to them.

This was one of the times when his cup runneth over with keeping everyone happy. Yet he was alone, no one to turn to, vent to and feel next to him at night. His wife had died early in their marriage and he raised his boys alone. All the thoughts about his responsibility swirling through Alastair’s mind was one of the reasons he needed this time alone every once in a while. No matter what decision was to be made, the final word came from him. Except this week, this was his don’t-fuck-with-me reprieve of peace... The landline rang and he chose to ignore it, then his cell rang. Alastair ignored that too and they both rang simultaneously.

Fuck. He looked at the read out and it was his oldest son.

Saul, Alastair’s tone was clipped. You know this is my time, son.

Yeah, I know, sorry, Da. Saul was his oldest son and at thirty-four, his right-hand man. We’ve got a problem here. The new girl that moved in on the hill, well, Cousin Junior got sweet on her and tried to ask her out.

Pick up the pace of the tale, son, Alastair pinched the bridge of his nose.

She doesn’t want Junior or his affection and politely tried to extricate herself from the situation, Saul replied. She lives over Darby’s Pub and Junior took it upon himself to follow her upstairs and try to charm his way inside her flat. That didn’t work and he started trying to shove the door open and she had to punch him in the neck and face to get him away from the door so she could lock it.

Jesus fucking Christ, if it’s not one thing with that fool, it’s another. Alastair ran his hand through his hair.

"The gommy tried to break in after that. Darby heard her screaming and pulled Junior down the stairwell and cuffed him upside the head a few times, before shoving him down the stairs. Saul continued. Needless to say it’s a mess and Darby wants Junior arrested. So does the girl, mind you, she’s a fiery one. We might have to talk her out of it with reparations for her trouble..."

No, we’re not talking anyone out of anything, Alastair snapped and sighed. One week of peace, that’s all I asked for.

Have all parties involved waiting at the house, then? Saul asked.

Being his first son, Saul could take care of it, but Darby was old-school and he still demanded, well, expected old traditions to be in place. Alastair wanted the rules of his father and grandfather gone. There was no place for them in the empire he had built. Saul was smart as a whip, strong and ready to do whatever it took for the family name and business. But he didn’t have finesse. His impatience and anger were well known on the hill. Darby would annoy the hell out of Saul, who would then throw him out on his ass, thus making the situation even worse.

Yes, include Junior and his Ma there as well, but in a separate room. I don’t need his greedy eyes on the girl any more than necessary. Alastair took a drink of his coffee, hell, he wasn’t skimping on that.

You’re going to tell Junior and his mum that he needs to turn himself in, Saul sighed. Shit, Dad, you know Carlotta is going to go postal, the screaming...

She’ll have to scream, Saul, I’m tired of his shit coming back on the family, Alastair answered. I’ll be there in two hours or so.

See you then.

Alastair disconnected the call and jogged back upstairs to get dressed. At fifty, he was still as spry as at twenty-five. He took care of himself, stayed fit and didn’t feel the need to have a midlife crisis like other men his age. He liked the calm life, and when he acted, people knew it was fucking serious. Like right now with the mess Junior got himself into. When his brother died, Alastair set Carlotta and Junior up nicely, but that boy seemed to think he was owed something and she never corrected her son.

He'd grown up from being a spoiled child to being an even worse man child and Alastair couldn’t look past it any longer. The man was going to have a hard lesson today, his mother as well. Driving back to Edinburgh was one of the most beautiful scenic routes a person could take, through the rolling emerald hills. The pristine landscape had one or two smaller villages that added a bit of color like a quilt. Alastair grew up seeing this landscape and it never got old. He’d traveled the world over and nothing ever compared. This was home and right now he couldn’t enjoy it because he had a nephew who used the family name like a credit card.

Bacchus Hill came into view. Of course its real name was Leith and it wasn’t technically on a hill. But the neighborhood had become vibrant, great for tourism because of his work, and his people thrived on it. The family houses faced the port and there were three now. His home sat in the center, his boys on each side of him. Callum and Rohan had decided to divide one house into a duplex so they could share.

From their homes, the nighttime view over the water was magnificent and they were on the more affluent side of the neighborhood. The rest of his kin were peppered through the town and in Fife, that was the gypsy side of the family that hated the city. Carlotta and Junior would be coming off High Street. Of course Alastair steeled himself against her banshee wailing when he pulled up outside his home. Inside were his boys. Saul, almost a head taller that him with his broad shoulders. That one took after his mother’s side of the family down to his smile that looked just like hers.

Rohan took after Alastair. He was thirty-two, tall but leaner, with the dark blond hair that favored his father. Callum, or ‘the baby,’ as the boys liked to tease him, was thirty-one, with sand-blond hair that was cut to suit his personality, short as the sides longer at top. He had a quick laugh and a charming demeanor. They lounged in the foyer by the family room and the office. Alastair didn’t need to ask where Carlotta was. Her voice was shrill coming from one room.

How long has she been at it? Alastair asked his sons.

A good twenty minutes, Rohan said. She alternates between yelling and crying.

Uh-huh, Alastair shook his head. Let me talk to Darby first. Callum, get me two stacks please.

That’s a lot for no damage, Saul commented.

Damage has been done to his female renter, plus I want him to update the locks on the apartment doors and the outer door that leads up to said lodgings, he told his son.

You know he’s going to do the bare minimum and pocket the rest, Rohan added.

Not when you check it and made sure he did the work, Alastair’s reply was firm with a snap. I won’t have the Bacchus name soiled with sexual deviancy, so instead of questioning my motives, watch and learn because I won’t be around forever to clean up the messes this family can get into.

Rohan grinned. You say that at least twice a week.

One of these days, I’ll mean it, Alastair patted Rohan on the cheek as he passed to go into his private office. Get me Darby, then I’ll deal with the others. Call the police for Junior.

Darby was easy. Alastair listened to him rant about his business reputation being sullied by Junior’s action and he didn’t want any sexual assaults on his property. Alastair could understand that. He nodded sagely at each point Darby made, letting him talk until the wind left his outraged sails.

It’s no good, Alastair, that boy is getting worse and his mother is bloody well useless, Darby sighed.

On that we agree.

Alastair nodded when Callum poked his head around the door and he came inside. His son handed him the two stacks of one-hundred-dollar bills, which Alastair slid across the table to Darby. The old man in the beat-up wide-brim adventurer’s hat almost drooled looking at the money.

I think this should cover what we discussed, Alastair spoke mildly and as Darby reached for it, he pulled it away and pinned the pub owner with a direct stare. You will be making those changes, yes?

Darby nodded. Yes, sir, Alastair.

Good. Because Rohan will be checking in next week and there better be top-of-the-line locks and a key code system, Darby. And a camera outside the door. Your renter better feel safe, and I will ask her.

There will be. Darby stood and Alastair shook his hand. I don’t lie to you, probably anyone else but not to you.

Alastair chuckled. Thanks for that.

Next was his brother’s wife and Junior. Alastair steeled himself as she came into the room, a whirlwind of faux fur coat, red hair and way too much makeup. Junior trailed behind her, hands in his pockets and a cocky look on his face. That will soon be changing, Alastair thought.

Before you start, Alastair, Carlotta said loudly. Do you believe that drunkard, Darby, and some girl that we don’t know?

Yes, Alastair answered. Sit down, the both of you.

Come on, Uncle, seriously, it was no big thing, she overreacted. Junior took his hand from his pocket to make sure his red hair was smoothed and neat.

Alastair slammed his hand on the table and they both jumped, fear instantly in their eyes.

I said, sit the fuck down.

Both Carlotta and Junior sat quickly.

So you’re telling me that you didn’t follow this girl through the entrance to Darby’s apartment upstairs. Then when she tried to get away you didn’t try to manhandle her and she didn’t mess up your stupid face before locking the door, and then you didn’t try to break it down? Alastair asked.

Well, that all happened but... Junior began.

That was assault, he pointed out. Sexual assault to be more precise, no is fucking no.

When, now? Carlotta sneered. That wasn’t the case when you and Hamish were young.

Alastair’s tone became hard. What did you say to me?

Carlotta swallowed. You and Helena had Saul as teenagers... and Hamish was certainly no angel.

So you think my brother and I assaulted women? Alastair sat back. Was that before or after you trapped him in a marriage he wanted to get away from so badly that he crashed his fucking car that night to get away from you? And still out of honor and respect I take care of your... Alastair took a deep calming breath.

Uncle Alastair, just pay the girl off and she’ll be quiet, Junior offered his brand of a solution.

No, she is going to file a police report and a warrant will be issued for your arrest.

Junior looked at him in shock. Are you crazy?

I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but my son is not going to jail, Carlotta cried out. You fix this, Alastair, or so help me God, I’ll...

Do what, Carlotta? Alastair shot back. Stop taking the money I put in your account each month to honor my brother? For a son that isn’t his?

That’s not true... Ma? Junior looked shocked.

Don’t believe him, Junior, she said hurriedly.

You wanted to tell truths, Carlotta, so here it is, Alastair leaned forward. "On God, believe me when I say, Junior, your mother’s timeline for your birth is very much... off. Hamish was in America when she said she got pregnant. You were overdue, but somehow your birthday was right on point to when she was mucking around with another man, an American who soon saw her ways and stopped the relationship. Da had her followed more than once because he didnae trust a word from her mouth. But my brother loved her to distraction and slowly she ate that away until there was nothing left. So here’s what is going to happen."

I swear to you, Alastair... Carlotta’s eyes filled with tears and she changed tactics. Don’t take my son from me, he is all I have left.

Alastair ignored her and turned to Junior, who was still digesting new truths that