Page 37 of The Distiller's Darling

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Brrrrt. Brrrrt. Naomi opened one eye and peered at her phone, vibrating anxiously on the nightstand.

“Are you going to get that?” Iain mumbled from her other side.

“No. It’s just my mother. Probably wants to give me the schedule of events I’m supposed to attend for the next two weeks.” She rolled over and threw her arm over Iain’s chest, snuggling in to him. “Not urgent in the least.”

“Mmm. I can think of something urgent.”

She let her arm drift downward. “Oh, my, this is an emergency.”

He pinned her hand against him, and then used it to stroke himself. “You know it.”

She giggled and tugged her fingers free of his hold, then pulled him toward her, using the momentum of his roll to bring him on top of her. “Let’s see what we can do about that.” Her last word came out on a gasp of pleasure as he tested her readiness with one of his long fingers, and then entered her in a slow thrust.

After that, they didn’t talk about anything for a long while.

* * *

Over the next few days, they fell into an easy routine. Sex (so much sex), working, and the occasional outing in River Hill, to dinner at Frankie’s or coffee at the Hollow Bean. On the days when Iain was on the road, driving up and down the coast securing contracts for Whitman’s, Naomi worked furiously on the sculpture in her studio, carving the tiniest details into the growing form on her bench. It was nearly done.

So was their time together—something she was trying not to think about. It felt too good having him here, and spending time together in all her usual haunts. She couldn’t let the swiftly approaching deadline of his departure make her sad; if she did that, she’d have to acknowledge how happy she was to be with him. And they’d agreed that this wasn’t a relationship. If they weren’t dating, she couldn’t be heartbroken when he left. Simple.

On the days when Iain didn’t need to meet in person with restaurant and bar owners, he set up shop in her home office. She cleared off one side of the long desk for him without being asked, shrugging when he raised an eyebrow in silent question.

“It’s mostly old design projects. I’ve been meaning to file them anyway.” She pointed to the nearly-empty bookshelf on the opposite wall. “They’re supposed to be in binders over there, not spread out everywhere.”

“You’ve made a lot of progress on that,” he teased. There was exactly one binder on the shelf.

“For that, you can help me sort.” She handed him a stack of glossy prints, and they settled down together on the floor to sort the papers by project.

“Thanks for doing this,” he said. “Max’s garage apartment is awesome, and the price is right, but it doesn’t really have a lot of space for doing business.”

She laughed. “I’ve been there once or twice. You could balance a fax machine on top of the bike trainer, maybe.”

He chuckled. “He was gracious enough to let me move the exercise equipment, but I’m sure he’s looking forward to having it back soon.”

They both sobered at the reminder of their limited time, and Naomi gathered up the remaining papers awkwardly. “Well. Thanks. I needed to get this done.”

He passed her his sorted stacks wordlessly, and she piled them onto the bookshelf to wait for their binders before fleeing back upstairs to the studio.

* * *

Two days later, he came bursting in the front door as she sat frowning at her computer, putting the final touches on Max’s menu design.

“I did it!” He tossed his briefcase onto the table in the hall and loped into the office, spinning her around in her desk chair to soundly kiss her.

Her arms twined around his neck and she lost herself in his lips for a few minutes before she remembered what he’d said. “Did what?” she asked, rolling away.

“Met my sales goal,” he said. “Come back. Don’t stop.” He tugged her back towards him, but she resisted.

“Iain! That’s incredible!” She beamed at him. “I knew you would.”

He blew out a breath that sounded like half of a laugh. “I’m glad one of us did. I was getting worried. There’s not much time left on my father’s deadline.”

“Tell me everything,” she ordered as she stood up. “Are you hungry?”

“Mm. I can’t decide what I want first. Tacos, or you.” His eyes roamed over her, and she felt her body warm quickly under his gaze.

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