Page 46 of The Distiller's Darling

And then he’d wait.

* * *

Stay away. Iain stared at his phone. Naomi’s directive had been clear, but that had been over seventy-two hours ago. Why the radio silence? Surely, her mom was gone by now.

Iain tried not to overreact, but truth be told, he was worried.

Iain: Everything good over there?

He waited for Naomi’s reply to come, but when two more hours passed, he developed a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He and Naomi certainly didn’t exist in each other’s pockets, but they’d never gone this long without even a text exchanged between them, either.

His knee bounced up and down as he weighed his options. Sit here all night concocting scenarios in his head, or head on over to her place and risk interrupting something he shouldn’t. Or worse.

What could be worse than not knowing? He cared about Naomi, and if he was sticking around River Hill—which it very much looked like he was now that he and Maeve had put in an offer in to buy the distillery—he needed to know where he stood with her.

Throwing his leather jacket on, Iain grabbed his keys and bounded down the steps to his car. Ten minutes later, he was parked at the curb in front of Naomi’s house, leaning to the side to inspect his surroundings through the passenger-side window. Her car was in the driveway, as were two others. None were marked “coroner,” so he supposed that was a good sign.

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. He really didn’t know what to do here. Naomi wasn’t his girlfriend. Hell, she’d explicitly told him to stay away. But something about the situation didn’t seem right, and if something was actually wrong, he’d feel terrible for having waited this long to check in on her. You didn’t leave people you cared about to fend for themselves when they were in a bind.

Decision made, he made his way up her lavender-lined walk. When he was about ten feet from her front door, he heard voices. Loud voices. Iain paused, and then winced, when he heard Naomi yelling something about Noah and “his goddamned mommy issues.”

He didn’t know what that was about, but he did know Naomi’s parents had always assumed she and the grumpy winemaker would end up together. He snorted. Clearly, they didn’t know their daughter—or Noah, for that matter—if they thought those two were anything other than a terrible idea. Naomi and Noah were more like a bickering brother and sister than a couple, and sometimes he wondered how they’d ever managed to get naked together. It made zero sense to him, but who was he to judge? Lord knew Iain had his own fair share of cringe-worthy partners in his past.

Stepping onto the first of three stairs that led up to her front door, Iain heard a male voice telling Naomi not to be so dramatic. That is not going to go over well, he thought with a smirk. In response, he heard Naomi telling the person to fuck off.

He paused, wondering if he should go any further. Clearly, she wasn’t dead or in any sort of dire straits. At least physically. But if that was her family on the other side of her heavy wooden door, he knew she’d be livid. That was something they had in common. Three days spent with family who wanted you to be something you weren’t was enough to drive anyone crazy. Now that he knew Naomi was still alive, he pulled out his phone to let her know she could escape to his place if she needed.

Iain: Hey, I’m outside. When I didn’t hear from you, I got worried. Now that I can hear you’re okay, I’ll head out. Call me if you need to escape. I want to talk to you about something.

The something being his plans for sticking around River Hill. He’d planned to tell her about Maeve’s visit and his idea, but then everything had gone sideways. As far as Naomi knew, he was only here for another week.

And she hasn’t tried to contact you, a snarky voice inside his head chimed in. Not that he hadn’t noticed. Her continued silence in spite of his looming departure date was probably the thing that bothered him most about all of this. Iain had thought that despite their promises not to get attached, they’d had something special building. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder if it had all been one-sided. Regardless, he was sticking around, and she needed to know either way.

Iain turned to go when he heard the front door open behind him.

“Don’t you dare leave me here to fend for myself,” Naomi hissed as she galloped down the stairs to grab hold of his arm and spin him around. She planted a quick kiss on his lips, and then tugged him back up the stairs and through her front door to come face to face with the family he remembered meeting briefly nearly six months prior at the Founders’ Ball.

“You all remember Iain?” she asked, shoving him forward and closing the door behind them.

Her mother tilted her head to the side to study him. “I don’t believe so, no. How did you say you two know each other?”

“I didn’t,” Naomi said, crossing her arms over her chest and squaring off with her mom.

Iain hadn’t remembered the two looking so much alike, but with twin expressions of annoyance on their faces, the resemblance was uncanny. Suddenly, he knew what Naomi would look like in thirty years—provided, of course, she visited the same plastic surgeon. Not that her mother’s work was bad or anything, but no woman in her sixties looked like that naturally. At least not in his experience. His own mom looked fifteen years older than Naomi’s.

“Wait, I remember you.” Jacob Klein stepped forward. “You’re the whiskey guy from the Founders’ Ball.”

“Iain Brennan. Guilty as charged.” He grasped Naomi’s brother’s outstretched hand and shook it.

Stepping back, Jacob glanced back and forth between his sister and Iain, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“We didn’t; not at the time,” Iain answered, unaware he’d said something he shouldn’t have until Naomi elbowed him in the side and cursed his big mouth under her breath.

“Noah gave him my name when he needed someone to design a logo for his sister’s whiskey,” she rushed to add. No mention of the fact that they’d been seeing one another, or whatever it was they were doing, ever since.

Iain didn’t know why, but that hurt. He was good enough to drag inside to interrupt what had clearly been a fraught family meeting, but he wasn’t good enough to introduce as her friend. To acknowledge that he might even be something more? Her silence these past three days began to make more sense.

“Is that the one we tasted at the ball?” A man Iain recognized as Naomi’s father stepped forward.

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