Page 12 of The Distiller's Darling

“Yeah?” He was waiting to eat until her food arrived, she realized as he pulled the folder across the table. How polite.

“Organized by format,” she said, trying to put her business face back on. “There’s digital assets, print ones, and a couple of full branding packages that included everything from logo design to web graphics plus business cards, flyers, and product packaging.”

He flipped through the pages, nodding. “This is all really nice.” He looked up at her. “I really liked the label Noah showed me. The wine?”

“Yeah, that’s actually in here.” She reached across the table and flipped a few pages forward, then tapped the sheet. “See, there’s actually a progression. I’ve been designing his labels for several years now, so you can see how the brand has grown and shifted a bit while still retaining its core identity.”

“How long did you say you’ve known him?”

“Since I was seven. Our parents are good friends.”

If this was a business meeting, she probably shouldn’t get too personal. And if this was going to be a repeat of the night of the gala, she definitely didn’t want to mention that she and Noah had been sleeping together for years—at least until he’d met Angelica.

Naomi had liked the former actress from the moment she first met her, and she’d done her best to push Noah into realizing that his feelings were real. The little friends-with-benefits thing they’d had going hadn’t been worth giving up on finding what he was really looking for. She was just glad he’d realized it in time.

And she was even more glad that Angelica had turned out to be the sort of woman who didn’t particularly care about Noah’s past sex life. They’d spent many an evening cheerfully roasting him over a few glasses of his own wine, as he’d rolled his eyes and pretended to be offended.

Realizing where her thoughts were going, Naomi tried to refocus. Iain was here on business, and she never slept with a one-night-stand twice. It only led to people thinking she was interested in commitment. She’d learned that lesson early on. She didn’t know which was worse—men thinking they were entitled to her time, or her mother thinking she should give it to them. Either way, her policy had stood her in good stead for years now, and she wasn’t throwing it all away for Iain … no matter how gloriously big his hands were. Or other things.

“What are you looking for?” She leveled her gaze at Iain and hoped it was steady. It was hard to conduct a business meeting with somebody you’d enthusiastically fucked without making everything seem like an invitation. She’d never actually been in this situation before.

His lips tilted in a tiny smile. “I’m not entirely sure.”

Well, that wasn’t helpful. She was saved from further trips down Double Entendre Lane by Max’s reappearance. “Here.” He plunked her plate down in front of her. “I hope you know you’re ruining the flavor profile.”

“Roasted peppers don’t have a flavor profile. They’re just slimy.”

“Ugh. Naomi, for somebody who grew up extremely fancy, you’re very boring.”

“Shows how much you know.” She stuck her tongue out at Max. “I’m very exciting. Do you know what’s not exciting? Roasted peppers.”

He threw his hands up in the air and stalked away, muttering something about missing components and mouthfeel.

She grinned at Iain. “He hates it when people make substitutions.”

“I’ve got a mate back home who feels the same way,” he said with a laugh. “Something about how everything on the plate is supposed to work in harmony when you put it all on a fork together.”

“I could probably just pick the peppers out, but it’s much more fun to annoy him.”

“Who could blame you?” Iain grinned at her and picked up a taco, taking a healthy bite.

She dug into her own salad. “I’m so glad we agree.” Now if only she could get her body to agree with her mind that leaping across the table and ripping his clothes off probably wasn’t a good idea, she’d be set.

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