Page 39 of Sugar Coated Secrets

Easton: Want me to bring any food home from the farm?

Why did I send that? That means I have to go home instead of meeting Delaney. Not that she confirmed with me yet, but she replied and said she’d text me after work.

I guess I could leave again after going home. I could tell Sadie I’m meeting up with some friends. What if she wants to come, or worse, feels left out? She’s been dealing with that from Dash for their whole relationship. I can’t do that to her, but I don’t want to admit I’m going to get laid, either.

She replies.

Sadie: No thanks. I ate with Everleigh.

So that’s what she’s been up to all day. I’m glad she wasn’t home alone.

I climb into the helicopter, strap in, and let the pilot know I’m ready.

We make it to the farm in forty-five minutes. I figure if Sadie is with Everleigh, I can head home, shower, and figure out my plans from there.

It’s a short drive to the lake house. Sadie’s car is gone. She must still be at the estate with Everleigh unless they’re hanging out at the farm. The helicopter pad isn’t visible, hidden by trees and out of sight from visitors. It’d be a hike to walk from it to the country store and café. Daire and I drive or take a UTV.

I’m checking out the case of liquor in the trunk when Sadie’s car appears around the bend.

She parks to the side, so she’s not blocking the garage access.

Her eyes are bright, and her smile is cheery, like she had a good time with Everleigh. Her jeans are a relaxed fit, and her sweater shows off a bit of her flat stomach.

She whistles when she sees me. “Looking good Mr. Livingston. Looking real good.”

She likes it when I’m dressed in a suit. Not that I’m wearing my jacket, and my sleeves are rolled up. She complimented me at Daire’s wedding and at their engagement dinner. On both occasions, I went all out, as did everyone.

“Sexy.” She circles me from behind. “Day wedding?”

I laugh. “Nope. Work.”

“Where?” She glances around as if to point out there aren’t any companies that can’t be run in jeans around here.

“Atlanta.”

Her brows tighten with question.

“I took the chopper.”

“Oh. That was fast.”

“That’s why Daire got it.”

She looks in the trunk. “Are you opening a bar?”

I laugh again. “It’s something else.” I touch the trunk to close it, but she removes a bottle of bourbon before I can.

“Pecan bourbon brought to you by Livingston Pecan Farm,” she reads the label aloud. “You guys make bourbon?”

I sigh. “This has to stay between us until I present it to Daire.”

“Wait. This is the secret project you’ve been working on?”

I nod and gesture for her to put the bourbon back in the case.

She doesn’t. “You had this made?” If she didn’t sound so impressed, I’d take the bottle from her.

“I collaborated with a bourbon company.”

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