Page 14 of Turning Up the Heat

Lila laughed. “And since when do you listen to anything they say?”

Gemma considered it. She’d never been one to follow instructions. “Hmm, good point.” As Lila and Celia laughed, Gemma thought about that. Maybe she would see Tom again. She didn’t have to listen to everything her brothers said.

“Thanks, guys. Good work today,” Gemma said to her crew as they finished bottling a large batch of dark rum and others were loading it onto the delivery trucks. She unzipped her coveralls to her waist and freed her arms from their sleeves and the bottom half caught on the more-than-ample curve of her hips. Her tank top was sticking to her clammy skin. She fanned herself with her hand. The interior of the distillery was stifling.

Her crew was about to leave for the day, but Gemma still had a few things to do. Back in her office, she heard someone step into the building. It was probably one of the workers coming back in. But Gemma just about fell over when she saw who was standing in the middle of her distillery.

“You know, none of my guys look as good in coveralls as you,” Tom told her.

“I’m assuming you have no women on the floor, right? Maybe that’s where you’re going wrong.”

“Perhaps you’re right.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.”

“You can’t just show up in my distillery—” She stopped. “How did you even get in here?” They normally kept the facility locked up tight.

“One of the guys out front let me in.”

“Our truck drivers aren’t exactly the doormen.”

“Oh, well. Listen, don’t get mad at them, it wasn’t their fault. I talk a pretty good game.”

Oh, she knew. “Do you know what my brothers will do if they see you here?” Tom didn’t have to know that they, and everyone else in the building, had gone home for the evening.

“I have some idea. So I guess you’ll have to make it worth the risk for me then.”

She could see the devilish glint in his eye, and she wondered why he was there. “What do you want?”

“Dinner. That’s it. I just want to talk to you.”

Gemma knew she shouldn’t. Going anywhere with him would be a bad idea. But with all the talk of dinner, her stomach growled. She couldn’t deny that she was hungry, and she had to eat anyway. “If I say yes, will you get the hell out of here?”

“Yes.”

She sighed dramatically, looking like she was putting up a fight, indifferent to his charms. “Okay, fine. I’ll meet you for dinner. I’m almost done here anyway, so I’ll just go home and change.”

“The coveralls and white tank top are a great look, though,” he told her. His gaze started at her feet and traveled upward, and it felt like the temperature in the distillery rose another ten degrees.

“I’m all sweaty, though.”

“Not the first time I’ve seen you get sweaty.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Get out, will you?”

“Fine, I’ll go. Where should I pick you up?”

She almost told him that she would take her car and meet him somewhere, but she knew that if she did that, she might talk herself out of the dinner date. She gave him her address. “Where are we going?”

“You promised me some of the best seafood I’d ever had.”

“It might be a little late to make a reservation.”

“I’ve heard you know the right people. You can get us in. Unless you aren’t the real mover and shaker down here that I’ve been led to believe.”

He was goading her—challenging her again. She had no doubt of his ability to get a table at any place in New York City, and she wanted to show him that she held a little sway, too. “Oh, I know a place.”

“Okay, great. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

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