Page 16 of The Distiller's Darling

She shooed Iain back downstairs before he could ask any more questions, not wanting to disrupt the bubbling creative energy she could feel still lurking in the studio. The clay would need at least a day to dry before she could touch it, and she didn’t want whatever mojo she’d finally gotten back to disappear again.

She froze at the bottom of the stairs, one foot in midair, as a new thought occurred to her. Was Iain her lucky charm? She winced internally even as she thought it. He was Irish; he probably wouldn’t appreciate the phrasing. She shook her head. It was impossible, anyway. That sort of thing wasn’t real. Art came from inside the artist, taking inspiration from the world around them. It didn’t come from sex. If it did, she’d have produced a lot more sculptures by now. She grinned as she bounced down the last step.

“So what’s next?” Iain met her in the kitchen.

“Breakfast?” Naomi was starving. “I didn’t have anything but coffee before I went up.” Breakfast with somebody she’d slept with! She was trying all kinds of new things today. Maybe she was finally growing as a person like her family wanted her to.

“I meant with your sculpture,” he said, waving his arm vaguely towards the ceiling. “But I could eat.” His grin made laugh lines appear in his cheeks around his beard. She liked it.

“Oh!” She laughed. “The clay has to dry for a day or so. Then I’ll carve it.”

“And you don’t know what you’ll be carving it into?”

She shrugged. “I’ve got a vague idea. But the details are inside the clay.” She moved to the pantry. “I’ve got, um, granola. And some of those breakfast cracker things.”

“Not a bacon and eggs type of girl?” He tilted his head towards her fridge.

She reached back to pull it open to show him its contents. “More like orange juice and an occasional yogurt. Sorry.” If she wasn’t working in the studio in the mornings, she was usually practicing yoga. And nobody liked doing yoga on a full stomach.

“I’ll trouble you for a bowl of granola,” he said. “And then I’m afraid I’ve got to be on my way.”

She let out a long, slow breath. There it was. She wasn’t sure whether to be glad or annoyed that he was as ready to scamper out of her house as she was to toss him. Breakfast with a guy was broadening her horizons enough. She was already starting to get anxious about when he would start demanding more of her time. She had art to create. Hopefully, he had plenty of his own work to do.

“Got a lot on your plate today?” She handed him the box of granola.

“A conference call with my father and the CEO—also known as my brother.” He winced. “I was going to tell them I’d found a designer to work with, but ....” He poured himself a bowl, then peered up at her with wide puppy-dog eyes. “Don’t suppose you’d—”

She held up a hand. “You picked, my friend.”

He snorted. “I’ll wear you down.”

She smiled at him sweetly. “I’ll give you some names.” She didn’t need the money enough to break her rules. She’d made them for good reasons. And she wasn’t about to tempt herself by letting him hang around. “Eat your granola.”

“Mmm. Crunchy.”

She let out a huff of laughter and dug into her own cereal.

After Iain left, with a couple of kisses and a few more hints about hiring her, she settled down at her computer, an old workhorse of a Mac that was taking longer and longer to fire up the layout and design software she used. She sighed. Maybe she should do Iain’s labels. She really did need a new computer.

She shook her head. There were other ways to make money. There was a request in her inbox now, actually, from a local beauty blogger who wanted a new logo designed. And of course there was Max’s new menus. Which she should really focus on, instead of thinking about last night and the way Iain had moved with her, under her, over her, and inside her. She shivered. Best to get it out of your system, girl.

She’d had two nights with him. That would be enough. Wouldn’t it?

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