Page 19 of The Distiller's Darling

9

“Heads up!”

Naomi looked up just in time to get hit in the face by a crinkled piece of parchment paper bearing The Breadery’s logo. “If that had been my fritter, you would have been a dead man, Sean Amory,” she called to the smirking blond man behind the counter.

“Worth it,” he said. “Come and get it. Nice and toasty.”

She levered herself off of the bench and got halfway to the counter before she realized who was standing just inside the door, smoldering at her. “Oh! Hi, Iain.” She smiled at him, then crossed the rest of the distance to the counter to accept the wrapped package Sean was holding. She squinted up at the tall baker, lips tightening. His eyes were bleary, and the lines deepening across his jaw spoke of another long night down at the local dive bar. “Sean—”

He held up a hand. “Save it.”

She scowled at him. “How long are you going to—”

“Oh, look, a customer,” he said pointedly. “However can I help you, fine sir?”

Iain came up next to Naomi and perused the glass case. “What did you get?” he asked her.

She held up her treat. “Apple fritter. They only make them on Tuesdays.” Because The Hut closed early on Monday nights, so Sean was sober enough to get up early to chop the apples. But that was neither here nor there. Iain didn’t need to know about Noah’s friend’s sordid history or how he was coping with it any more than he needed to know about the little gathering Noah and Max were planning to figure out what to do about it. He wasn’t a permanent fixture of their group, and he wasn’t staying in River Hill.

“Sounds good to me.” Iain turned back to Sean. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

“How very When Harry Met Sally,” Sean observed. Naomi shot him a warning glance, but he just laughed as he pulled another fritter out of the case and turned to put it into the heating oven on the back counter.

Iain shifted closer to Naomi, and she felt the warmth from his body seeping into her own. “How’re you?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“Sculpture coming along?”

She nodded. “The clay’s finally dry enough to carve. It took a little longer than I expected, so I did some design work.”

He winced. “Speaking of design work—”

She shook her head. “Iain ...”

“Naomi, I’m dying over here. I even talked to a couple of the people you recommended, and they’re all giving me the same crap. Here, wait.” He tugged his phone out of his pocket.

“Did you clearly and concisely explain what you needed?”

“Yes, I’m not an idiot. I’ve been in marketing for more than ten years.” He tapped his phone’s screen and then held it out to her. “This is all I can get out of anybody.”

Naomi peered at the tiny image and wrinkled her nose. “Watercolor? Really?”

“It’s on trend.” He elongated the words, making them sound as pretentious as possible, and she laughed.

“I mean, it is, but it’s the wrong approach for what you’re doing, isn’t it?”

He sighed. “Yes. And I can’t get approval for the new label from my father anyway, so it probably doesn’t matter.”

Sean reappeared behind the counter and handed Iain his pastry. “Tough break, dude. Family businesses can be rough.”

“You’re familiar?”

Sean laughed, but to Naomi’s ear, he didn’t really sound all that amused “Oh, yes. The Breadery’s been the Amory family business for generations. My mom owns it. I just work here.”

Iain shook his head. “Got some new ideas you want to try out, do you?”

Sean’s jaw tightened visibly. “Something like that. It’s hard to argue with your family when they just want what’s best for you, man.”

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