Page 64 of Turning Up the Heat

She poured herself a glass of water, but she also took a small glass from the cupboard and poured herself a finger of rum. Bringing the glass to her nose, she inhaled. She hadn’t tasted it yet, but she could tell it would be good. She picked up both and walked to the living room. She sat on the couch, looking into the short glass. The amber liquid caught the light, and she sighed.

She put the glass on the coffee table and picked up her phone. She opened her contacts. Her thumb hovered over Tom’s name. She closed her eyes and put her head back, as her thumb depressed on the screen, dialing him, as she felt every ounce of willpower wither and die.

He answered just after the first ring, not even giving her a chance to chicken out and hang up. “Gemma?” His voice was low, sexy as hell, as he said her name.

She had no idea what to say, no idea why she’d called him, just that she was lonely and sad. “Hey,” she said, her voice trailing up as she dragged out the one-syllable word. “What are you doing?”

“I’m in bed. What’s up?”

“Uh, nothing. I was just out with the girls.” She knew she was slurring a little, so she worked harder to enunciate each word. “We had some wine and watched movies.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Yeah, it was.”

There was a silence before he spoke again. “It’s late.”

Her eyes squeezed shut, embarrassed. She checked the time. It was after 3:00 a.m. She felt like an idiot. Why had she called him? “Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”

“No,” he interrupted her. “It’s good to hear from you. How are you?”

She sighed and thought about lying and telling him how well she was doing. But she went with the truth instead. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“I’ve got a glass of our rum in front of me.”

“Did you like it?”

“I haven’t tasted it yet. Have you?”

“Not yet.” She could hear movement on his end of the line. “Hold on a second. I’ve got you on speakerphone,” he told her, and she could hear a glass hit his granite countertop. She could hear liquid being poured. “I’ve got some rum, too. Want to taste it together?”

She smiled. “Yeah, sure.” Smiling, she reached for the glass on the coffee table.

She raised the glass to her lips and tasted it. It was delicious, and her stomach curled with his moan of appreciation in her ear. It brought back their nights together, and she wished he could have been there with her then.

They drank their rum in silence for a while. “We did good,” she said.

“It is good. It’s got me thinking...”

“Thinking what?”

“This rum is good. But it’s nothing compared to your recipes, though. I think I brought you down.”

“Aw, you’re just a little rusty. How are you?” Talking with Tom was so easy. She’d missed him this past week.

“It’s been a frustrating week. This is a conversation I would have liked to have with you in person,” he explained. “My father is finally retiring.”

Gemma blinked in surprise. But the sadness followed. Even if she and Tom hadn’t had that fight, their relationship would never have survived this recent development. “That’s great news,” Gemma said. “That’s what you wanted. Now you can do things your way.”

“Yeah. If he would have even given me the chance.”

“What do you mean?”

“I quit.”

“What?” She wasn’t sure if she’d fully comprehended what he’d said through the haze of the wine. “Why? Running Cain Rum was the most important thing to you.”

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