Page 59 of The Distiller's Darling

His father’s eyes flashed with fury. “If it were up to you, you’d kill off everything that makes Brennan’s Brennan’s. You have no sense of duty or honor!”

Iain’s belly clenched with hurt. Nothing his father said was true, but he knew there was nothing he could ever do to make the old man see the situation any differently. All Iain had ever tried to do was keep Brennan’s at the forefront of Irish whiskey. He’d given everything to the company that bore his family name … right up until the moment it became apparent their loyalty didn’t extend back to him. Or his sister. “Then I guess the only thing that’s left to say is I’m sorry you feel that way.” He turned to his mom. “Thank you, Mom. I appreciate what you’re doing.”

Iain pushed off the sofa and set his hand on Maeve’s shoulder. She looked up at him with eyes that glittered with unshed tears. She might be willing to rebel with him, but she hated true conflict. It couldn’t be helped, though. He gave her hair a soft tug. “I can’t be here anymore. Bring me up to speed later?”

She nodded as Iain stepped around her … and straight out the door.

* * *

Iain lost track of how long he’d been sitting in the gazebo in the middle of the town square, but his untouched coffee had long since turned cold, and the sun had set some time ago. He flipped his phone over and over in his hands, debating whether or not he should call Naomi. That had been his first inclination, but with the way things were between them, he didn’t know if that was the best course of action. When he’d left her place earlier that afternoon, they’d said they would talk. But about what? He’d been paralyzed by wondering about the answer to that question for what felt like hours.

The decision was taken out of his hands when a lone figure strolled across the grass, up the steps of the gazebo, and stopped in front of him. He leaned back and looked up at the only woman who’d ever had the ability to tie him up in knots. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” She nodded to the space next to him. “Mind if I sit down?”

“Sure.” He scooted over to make room on the bench for the both of them.

When she sat, he turned to face her and took a deep breath before speaking. He had so many conflicting emotions running through him, and there were so many things he knew they needed to discuss. “Naomi, I—”

“Iain, I—” She smiled, her lips forming a thin line on her beautiful face and gestured for him to go first.

“How’d you find me?”

“Technically, I didn’t. Your sister called Max wondering if he knew where you might be. He called Noah, who called me. I was on my way out of town but had stopped for coffee.” She held up her to-go cup with The Hollow Bean’s black and white logo front and center. “I was walking back to my car when I had this strange urge to cut across the square. I looked up, and there you were. Like serendipity.” She bumped her shoulder against his, and it brought a smile to his face. Maybe the first real one he’d felt all day.

Iain knew he should explain to Naomi why Maeve was looking for him, or why he hadn’t answered Max’s phone call or Noah’s text message, but he could only focus on one thing. “You said something about heading out of town?” She was leaving?

Naomi took a long sip of her coffee, her eyes finding his over the rim of the cup. Iain couldn’t say why, but he got the sense that she was stalling. Eventually, she swallowed and nodded. “Yes. I need to get down to the gallery and get all my work set up for the show next week.”

Iain felt a quick stabbing pain in his chest … exactly like the one he’d felt when they’d been driving home from Gavin’s show all those weeks ago. At the time, he’d thought it was indigestion. But now he knew better. It was love. And heartbreak. And it fucking sucked.

He was happy for Naomi’s success—honestly—but he was a bit sad, too. Everything between them had fallen apart so quickly. Iain realized he’d taken it for granted that he’d get to see the final pieces she’d chosen for her exhibition because he’d be at her house helping her pack them up. Instead, he had no clue how her headline piece had turned out. Or what it even was. It seemed as though he didn’t have a clue about a lot of things where she was concerned.

Attempting to mask the riot of emotions running through him, he pulled his eyes from hers and looked out over the square. “You finished the sculpture, then?”

“I did. It’s ...” Naomi trailed off and let out a long sigh. “It’s more than I ever thought it could be. It’s also not exactly what I thought it was going to be, either.”

He turned back toward Naomi and studied her face. She didn’t look unhappy, but he knew her, and while she might not have said the words, her voice had revealed some sort of inner struggle with the finished piece. Almost as if she knew it was good, but she wasn’t sure she actually liked it.

“I’m sure it’s beautiful,” he told her. Because everything she touched was beautiful. Even if it wasn’t lasting.

Her eyes turned hazy for a brief second—as if she was suddenly lost in thought—and then she blinked, and the look was gone. “Enough about me, though. Noah wanted me to make sure that I let you know that your dad had left.”

“Left?”

She nodded. “Yeah, apparently he’s on his way to the airport now.”

Iain blew out a breath. “Wow. That’s …” He didn’t know what it was. At any rate, he didn’t think it was a good thing. Not much shot at closure on the family feud, anyway.

Naomi laid a hand on his knee. “I’m sorry things didn’t go the way you wanted with your family.”

Iain’s gaze dropped to her hand and then back up. Misinterpreting his look, she pulled it away, and he felt the loss of contact deep in his bones. “Thanks. I can’t say that I’m surprised, but I really hoped we could work something out.”

Just then his phone buzzed in his hand. He flipped it over to see it was Maeve.

Naomi stood. “I should really get going. And you should go talk with your sister.” She nodded toward his phone, Maeve’s name glowing in large print over the green ’answer’ button.

Iain nodded and stood, shoving the device into his pocket. Maeve could wait a few minutes more. As if compelled by some invisible force, he took a step forward. And then another. Naomi was his sun, and he was helpless to fight her gravitational pull. Wherever she was, he wanted to be too. “Yeah, and you should get on the road.” Without conscious thought, he raised his hand and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, dragging the tip of his finger down her neck until he felt her skin pebble beneath his touch. “Drive safe.”

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