Page 6 of The Distiller's Darling

He looked her up and down, towel and all. “What kind of meeting?”

“What, you don’t conduct business in the nude?”

“Depends on the business.” He pinched her bottom as she turned to leave the bathroom. “Want to buy some whiskey?”

“Not today.” Her dress muffled her voice as she tugged it over her head. “I think I’ve had plenty of Irish in me for the day.”

“You can never have enough Irish in you.” He followed her out of the bathroom and gave a tug to the hem of her dress. “There you go. That’s straight.”

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure. You need anything?”

“My wrap?”

“On the chair.” His voice was muffled now as he shrugged into a t-shirt he’d pulled from the carry-on suitcase lying open on the luggage stand. She hadn’t noticed it last night, since her eyes had been focused on the man who owned it.

“Not staying long?” She didn’t see any other bags.

“Flying out this afternoon, actually. Got meetings up in Seattle.”

She didn’t press. His business, whatever it was, wasn’t hers, and she didn’t know anybody in Washington other than a few artists who lived in a commune outside Walla-Walla. She didn’t think they wanted any whiskey, though. They had a well-known preference for mushrooms as their artistic muse.

“Have a good trip,” she said.

“Have a good meeting,” he answered.

“I intend to.”

She didn’t offer him her number, or her card, and he didn’t seem inclined to give her his, either. What luck! A one-night stand who was literally only in town for one night? She definitely wouldn’t be running into him again. And while she might have enjoyed a repeat of last night— who was she kidding, she would love a repeat of last night—she was far more interested in avoiding awkward prolonged goodbyes, painful hints about what she was doing next weekend, or a never-ending series of text messages.

Naomi beamed at Iain. He was the perfect man. Sexy, great with his hands, and gone the next day. She gathered her things while he finished dressing, and then gave him a quick kiss. “Thanks for a great night, Iain.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate the introduction to San Francisco.”

She laughed. “Nobody better to make you feel at home than a native.”

“I’ll return the favor next time you’re in Ireland.”

“You’ve got it.” She chuckled, knowing neither of them meant it.

“Shall I see you out?”

She shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ve got it.” She pulled out her phone and checked the time. “Gotta get moving, though.” By some miracle her mother had only texted her once overnight. She ignored it, like she usually did. Communication with her mother required coffee. “Safe travels.”

“You too,” he said, opening the door for her. As she passed him, she felt his hand close around the left side of her butt and squeeze firmly. “Just a little reminder.”

She laughed and extracted herself from his grip. “I’ll remember.”

“Oh, that was for me.”

The last thing she saw before he closed the door were the crinkles around his eyes and mouth as he grinned at her.

* * *

Eight o’clock in the morning in the Westin lobby was a far different place to be wearing her tiny, sexy gala dress than last night had been. Naomi hated the phrase ‘walk of shame,’ since she tried never to do anything she was ashamed of. But stalking through the ornate marble lobby in her sky-high heels without the benefit of caffeine was really asking too much. She found the complimentary coffee bar outside the breakfast area and poured herself a cup while she tapped out her Uber request for a ride to her hotel. She made a face after the first sip. Hopefully it would be the only bad part of her day.

“That’s no way to look at a perfectly innocent cup of coffee.” The voice was familiar, and unfortunate. The coffee wasn’t nearly good enough to be worth tolerating her brother this early in the day.

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